When I discover my boyfriend is cheating on me, I move out right away taking what I love most – my dog. As I fly out the door, I make sure to swipe the thing my ex loves best–the VIP tickets he won to a hockey game, complete with the chance to spend an evening with the city’s two biggest NHL stars. I can’t wait to snap selfies with my ex’s idols and rub it in his face.

I have a type. I love the good guy. Responsible and stable. Safe. So when a beer-drinking, quick-witted, tattooed hockey player asks me to tutor him, I'm suddenly thrust into the world of bad boys and bad decisions. Jordan is a renowned player on campus. He doesn’t take anything seriously, except hockey and partying. But he gives me butterflies. I’m a wallflower tutoring Valley University’s hottest player.

I always imagined that being the smart girl in college would be totally different then being the smart girl in high school. Oh, how wrong I was. Popular girls and cliques still exist in college — and they’re in the dorm next door. But I should’ve known better. I made the mistake of going to MSU, a football school that worships their athletes almost as much as they do Monday Night Football. And the jocks of this school are essentially kings. Kings, who are only good for one thing: dirty daydreams. Not that I have time for that.

Brody McKinnon is Whitmore University's star defenseman destined for NHL greatness. He made a name for himself playing juniors before gracing us with his esteemed presence. As much as it pains me to admit it, he’s exploded at the college level. While other girls fall all over themselves trying to gain his attention, I do my best to steer clear. For reasons I can't fathom, Brody takes great pleasure in messing with me. And I, in return, enjoy slicing him to ribbons with my razor-sharp tongue. You'd think after three years, he'd learn to keep his distance. No such luck.

Everyone says opposites attract. And they must be right, because there’s no logical reason why I’m so drawn to Colin Fitzgerald. I don’t usually go for tattoo-covered, video-gaming, hockey-playing nerd-jocks who think I’m flighty and superficial. His narrow view of me is the first strike against him. It doesn’t help that he’s buddy-buddy with my brother. And that his best friend has a crush on me. And that I just moved in with them. Oh, did I not mention we’re roommates?

What happens is that you get “make out with strangers and pee in a parking lot” drunk. Tie the knot with a guy you just met. Then *allegedly* participate in depraved group activities with him and his friends in the honeymoon suite of a five-star hotel. But that’s not even the worst part.

Lila James is my best friend’s little sister, and I’ve always looked out for her. She's five years younger than me, and when she left for college, she was just a kid. But now she’s home for the summer—and she’s definitely not a kid anymore.

Carter Beckett is the NHL’s resident bad boy, top player both on the ice and in the bedroom, and quite possibly the sexiest man to ever grace my field of vision. But worst of all? He knows it. He’s arrogant, self-centered, and the man doesn’t seem to know what a filter is, let alone how to use one. He’s had everything served to him on a silver platter, including endless strings of women, and apparently, I’m up next. I have the solution to all my sexual frustrations in a drawer at home, and it’s far less complicated than Carter Beckett.

I’m all set for my first semester at college: dream field of study, five-year plan, brand new notebooks. But one thing can’t come to campus—my V-card. Being a virgin isn’t the biggest part of my problem. What I need to prepare for the full college experience is someone to teach me what to do in bed. Though I hate to admit defeat, this is one accolade I can’t earn on my own. I have the perfect tutor in mind: my brother’s best friend. Cooper Vale: hometown heartthrob, sultry bad boy, and my neighbor since we were kids.

“Give me a second chance, babe . . . and I’ll blow your mind.” Monroe doesn’t know why she answers the text that’s obviously meant for someone else. Or why she keeps answering. Maybe it’s because she’s all alone in a big city and in desperate need of a lifeline. Or maybe it’s because each exchange leaves her intrigued and more than a little turned on. Still, Monroe never would’ve snarked back if she’d known she was talking to the “Golden Boy” of the Dallas Knights.

They say you never forget your first. Jagger Cruz, the popular, gorgeous, athletic heartbreaker, was my introduction to college flings. Over the years, I’ve tried to pay no attention to every wicked rumor I heard about him, even though deep down I knew they weren’t just rumors. Unable to face the consequences of what we’d done, if we were ever in close quarters, I ran in the other direction. If we were coincidentally put in the same class, I dropped it. Avoidance was the name of the game and so far I was winning. That is, until we’re assigned the same apartment.

Roan King. The uncrowned king of Barnett University. He's like a freaking celebrity around here. It's totally ridiculous. People, by which I mean grown women, actually stalk him on the internet. And around campus. Apparently, he's God's gift to both football and the ladies (I'm using that term loosely). All he has to do is smile, and girls fall right onto their backs before spreading their legs wide. I've heard that he's already plowed his way through half the female population at Barnett.

Once I saw Marnie Long, a sassy, sultry, charismatic older woman in a bar, I couldn’t peel my eyes off her. I wanted her. At least, for one night. I’m way too busy with my career these days for anything more. As it turned out, after recently getting burned, Marnie was on the same page as me—all she wanted was one night of fun. I was happy to be of service. What I didn’t expect during our night together, however, was how deeply we connected. Also, how much I was dying to see her again the next morning.

I can’t borrow him. He’s not a sweater or a skirt. He’s not even her favorite dress - the lucky one she wears on first dates. The one she probably wore on her first date with him. In my defense, I didn’t know who he was. To me, he was a cool, calm, confident stranger. He was perfection for the entire hour-and-a-half train ride, while the concrete jungle turned into a rolling green landscape.

After failing my last semester of grad school, I decided to come back to my hometown and wallow in my boyfriend’s sympathetic arms. Instead, he proceeded to dump me...for being boring! Now, I'm not typically a spiteful person, but there's only so much I can take. Hence why I’m holding the box of his most cherished possessions...stolen possessions no less!