Lennox Kennedy is beautiful, loud, and the love of my life. She's also my ex-girlfriend. The first time I saw her after ten years apart, I slammed into the plexiglass minutes before our game was set to begin. The second time I threw up. The third time's a charm apparently because as my fiancée and I walked into an appointment to meet the woman hired to plan our nuptials—there she was again. Obviously, I did what any smart man would do—I called off the wedding. I don't have a plan per se, other than winning back the only girl I've ever loved.

Let me tell the story of how I fell in love with a woman who had no idea that we were even dating. The ridiculousness started when she stole my beer, and trust me, my grumpy self doesn’t normally share. But somehow, Avery Wilson is the exception to every one of my many rules. Unfortunately, I’m not hers. Not only is she the daughter of the Rev’s coach who hates me, she’s also sworn off dating for the year.

I made a deal with my brother a long time ago to never date his teammates. Technically, Rowan Landry, the hot as hell center for the Chicago Falcons, is no longer my brother’s teammate. Or his best friend. Their college days are long behind them, and they barely talk now. Also, I’m not dating him—we’re just sleeping together. There’s a difference.

It was supposed to be a simple weekend away to forget the heartache caused by my cheating husband. But the man sitting next to me in 1B has different plans. Cash’s whiskey-colored eyes and easy smile beg me to dance beneath the stars, kiss in the moonlight, and walk hand in hand down the streets of Boston. Unfortunately, life has other plans because I’m still married, and Cash James is the billionaire playboy standing between me and my dream promotion.

With green eyes and an easy smile, Frank McCabe stole me away from the nightmares that awaited me at home. But the son of the Irish Mob would never be mine. I belonged to the Italians. And the moment my mother sold me to the head of the Italian Mafia, I became the one the people of Boston were warned about. The only person more feared than me in our city is the Irish Ghost. When I finally flee my marital prison with my sons and my sister in tow, I unwittingly run straight into the ghost of the Irishman who died in a fiery explosion years ago.

A forbidden romance with my brother’s hockey teammate wasn’t on my to-do list when I moved across the country… Neither was getting locked out of a friend’s place wearing next to nothing. Or spending the night with the sexy stranger who rescues me. But I’m trying to get out of my comfort zone so getting out of the rest of my clothes with him seems like a good way to start. In the morning, I learn the filthy-mouthed man with the talented hands is not only the hotshot new hockey player on my brother’s team: he’s also–wait for it–my brand new roommate.

Knox Holland is in a jam. After an incredible first year on the pro motocross circuit, he should be on top of the world. Instead, his bad reputation has landed him without a team. He's untouchable and desperate to turn it around. Which is how he ends up at my gym asking me to train him. As a college gymnast with two Olympic medals to my name, I know a thing or two about the pressure to succeed. Last season I choked and then injured myself before I could show the world that I'm not a twenty-year-old has-been.

I’m a curvy sports geek. Liam’s a hockey god. He’s way out of my league… My brother’s best friend is acting really weird. Flowers keep showing up. He sends me Cameos and concert tickets. Then, there’s the job offer… Well, first, there was the fact that he tracked me down to NYC. It’s really complicated, okay? But so are my feelings for him. I’ve been ignoring them for so long that they became a wall I’m comfortable hiding behind.

Scottie Price just started a new job and it's a real sausage fest. She's the only woman on a team filled with Brads and Chads. Expecting a bachelor pad atmosphere, she is quickly corrected when she finds out everyone is happily married. In an effort to impress her boss, Scottie mentions her nonexistent husband in a company meeting. But eagle-eyed Chad points out her lack of wedding ring.

He’s a criminal—an abomination. We’re wrong in every way. If only I could’ve convinced my heart. His lips whispered promises of all the stars in the sky. I dreamt of a love that would last forever. We were gorgeously young and desperate for one another. But we're star-crossed. Fate had decided our course. Leaving us to cling to each other as we crumbled to ash. His need became possession. My innocence turned jaded. Our families declared war. All that remained was hate. But Calder was raised by wolves. The rules didn’t apply. I was his until he said otherwise—for better or for worse.

Being hired as the PR representative for the hockey team I’ve always been a fan of, should be a dream come true, especially because my old crush plays for them. My suggestion to save Briggs's career is solid… have him fake date someone wholesome who can change his image. That’s when my big mouth gets in the way and I admit to being the-girl-next-door. Now… my boss is offering me the promotion of a lifetime, but it comes with strings… Fake date Briggs Conley!

Miles Cavanaugh is moving into “The Den”—a notorious four-flat apartment complex in Chicago with two of his new teammates from the Chicago Grizzlies. The Den is known for the number of women who come and go, but as the three bachelors start their new season, they get their first inkling that things are starting to change.

If I had known how irrevocably my life was about to change, I would have walked the other way after talking to my coach. I should have taken any other route out of the Toronto Terror head office. But I didn’t and now–everything is different. At first I didn’t recognize the woman doing a victory dance down the hall when she thought no one was watching. Until she turned around. And that beautiful smile was aimed at me.

Zanders: Chicago hockey isn't complete without me—everyone's favorite player to hate. I know my role, and I play it well. In fact, I thoroughly enjoy spending the majority of my game time in the penalty box before leaving the arena with a new girl on my arm each night. What I don't like is the new flight attendant on our team's private plane. She works for me, not the other way around. But I'll be sure to remind her of that, and I can guarantee, by the end of the season, she'll be begging to quit her job.

My whole life, I've come out on top. One of the finest players ever to grace the NHL? Check. Most prolific playboy with an enviable reputation between the sheets? Check. Award for the cockiest athlete in America? Also, check, and well deserved I'd say. So why does my life feel anything but the perfect image I project? And why won't the one woman who came crashing into my life and knocked me on my six-foot-four ass take me seriously?