I should have known I was in trouble when I backed my old, beat-up truck into the shiny Range Rover. The driver looked like a gorgeous fallen angel–one who’d been booted right out of paradise for being a giant prick. Good thing I’ll never have to see him again.

When my father passed away, I assumed my grieving would be as simple as closing a book and starting another. Only he had other plans. Leaving me his beloved tattoo shop, I’m stuck to figure out what exactly to do with it, all while being constantly reminded of him.

I don't know when it happened. I didn't think it'd ever happen. I can't lose her. I can't even imagine losing her. Rule number six: This is supposed to be fun. Understand? He's my bad boy and I'm his good girl. And, yes, he's my stepbrother and I'm his stepsister.

I was never supposed to fall in love with my stepbrother. I never intended to. It just sort of happened. Rule number four - You can change your mind, too, Ethan. We can't. We're done. This girl lives in the same house as me. Her bedroom is just down the hall. It barely takes 20 seconds to go from her room to mine, and yet it's an impossible distance now. She might as well be on the sun.

I thought I was a good girl, but then why do I love hearing all of the naughty things he says he wants to do to me? Rule number three: You can change your mind, Ashley. Not just now. Whenever. I could tell Ethan that the only thing I'll regret about this is that we only have a week together. Except I can never tell him that. I need to stop. I need to understand that this is a temporary situation, and that I'll never have it ever again, because no matter what, it won't work out, whether I want it to or not.

Rule number one - It's only supposed to last for a week.... Ethan is a cocky, arrogant jerk. He's always been that way. I'll never understand why girls trip over themselves just to be with him. Don't they realize he's going to ditch them in a week?

This is bad. Very bad. He's rubbing off on me. Resident bad boy Ethan Colton is turning me into an irresponsible bad girl. Rule number two: When I tell you to come here, you come here. It's still an order, still practically growling at me, commanding me to obey him, but it's more, too. It's fun and flirty, a little playful. I can see why girls fall for him, can see why his devious smirk melts their resistance, because it's doing the same to me.

I've been faithful long enough. I never claimed to be a good man, but I've always done what was expected of me. Find a nice girl. Get married. Have children. That was my duty as a good Christian man. And everything was going as planned when I met Briar. Beautiful. Charismatic. Sexy. But marriage is hard, and after seven years, I feel like I'm failing. Then, a figure from my past enters the picture.

Layla Robinson is not crazy. She is suffering from unrequited love. But it's time to move on. No more stalking, no more obsessive calling. What she needs is a distraction. The blue-eyed guy she keeps seeing around campus could be a great one - only he is the new poetry professor - the married poetry professor.

I wasn’t supposed to be on that roof on Valentine’s Day. Neither was Kellan Marchetti, the school’s designated freak. We met on the verge of ending our lives. Somehow, the tattered strings of our tragedies tangled and tightened into an unlikely bond. We decided not to take the plunge and agreed to check on each other every Valentine’s Day until school ended. Same time. One roof. Two restless souls. We kept our promise for three years.

I’d never forgotten him - a man I’d yet to meet. Griffin Quinn was my childhood pen pal, the British boy who couldn’t have been more different from me. Over the years, through hundreds of letters, we became best friends, sharing our deepest, darkest secrets and forming a connection I never thought could break. Until one day, it did. Then, out of the blue, a new letter arrived. A scathing one - one with eight years of pent-up anger. I had no choice but to finally come clean as to why I stopped writing. Griffin forgave me, and we were able to rekindle our childhood connection.

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The scowl should’ve been my first clue to stay far away from Anson Hunt. The sexy smirk and the fact that he’s my brother’s best friend? Reasons two and three. Not to mention, he’s the new contractor working on my house. He’s everything I’m not: grumpy, rude, and more than a little attached to his solitude. It doesn’t matter how many times I try to kill him with kindness; the man simply won’t crack. Until he sees me shatter. Because when my world comes crashing down around me, Anson is the one catching me as I fall.

One night. No names. No commitment. That was our agreement. But Spencer Lancaster was addictive. And I was high. High off his taste, starved for his kiss, and desperate for his touch. So when he asked me to stay, to enjoy his company for more nights than I knew I should, I wasn't in the right mind to say no. Everything was perfect. A dream come true. But half a world away, there were secrets. Lies. Insecurities. All of the truths that could tear us apart.

It was supposed to be a harmless kiss at a lavish debutante ball. A clandestine moment with a handsome stranger. But unlike his namesake, my Romeo isn’t driven by love. He’s fueled by revenge. To him, I’m a chess piece. Leverage. His rival’s betrothed. To me, he is a man deserving of poison. A dark prince I refuse to marry. He thinks I’ll accept my fate. Well, I plan to rewrite it. And in my story, Juliet doesn’t die. But Romeo? He perishes.