I've been humiliated, shut out, and gossiped about all through high school. His pranks and rumors got worse as time wore on. I even went to Europe for a year, just to avoid him. But I'm done hiding from him now, and there's no way I'll allow him to ruin another year. He might not have changed, but I have. It's time to fight back.

In fifth grade my teacher set us up with pen pals from a different school. Thinking I was a girl, with a name like Misha, the other teacher paired me up with her student Ryen. My teacher, believing Ryen was a boy like me, agreed. It didn't take long for us to figure out the mistake. And in no time at all, we were arguing about everything. The best take-out pizza. Android vs. iPhone. Whether or not Eminem is the greatest rapper ever. For the next seven years, it was us. She's the only one who keeps me on track, talks me down, and accepts everything I am.

I cross the tracks every day for one reason - to graduate from this school and get into the Ivy League. I'm not ashamed of where I come from, my family, or how everyone at Marymount thinks my skirts are too short and my lipstick is too red. Clay Collins and her friends have always turned up their noses at me. The witch with her beautiful skin, clean shoes, and rich parents who torments me daily and thinks I won't fight back. At least not until I get her alone and find out she's hiding so much more than just what's underneath those pretty clothes.

Hawken Trent. So polite. So sweet. Such an upstanding young man. A virgin, too, I hear. He never gets naughty with a girl. Probably because Jesus told him not to. And now here he is, trying to be the hero by protecting another girl from me. He calls me a bully. Irrational. Unreasonable. A criminal. He can call me anything he wants, I’ve heard worse. And he can try to stand between me and my money, but he’s never had to fight for food. That rich, clean, school boy doesn’t have what it takes

Macon is the oldest. Thirty-one. Ex-Marine. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him smile. Army is twenty-eight. A single dad with the most beautiful green eyes. He has no idea who he is, if not a Jaeger brother. Iron will be in prison soon. You’d never think it to meet him. He’s a nice guy, actually. But he can’t stop reacting to everything. Dallas is the one I hate. Twenty-one, cruel, and selfish. He takes and then throws away whatever’s left. And Trace is mine. Or he was for about two seconds. No one can tame him for long. Not that I ever wanted to.

I’d been prom queen and cheer captain—high school’s most savage Queen Bee. I could have everything I wanted. Except them. The freaks, the weirdos, the school’s ultimate losers: Manson, Jason, Lucas, and Vincent. Our hatred for each other couldn’t keep us apart, not even when my own mistake got Manson expelled and made me the ultimate villain to the rest of them.

I have a simple plan. Finish Royal Elite School and get into my dream university. One glance from the school’s king blows my plan up in smoke. One glance and he suffocates my air. One glance and he issues his death sentence. His first words spiral my life into irreparable chaos. “I will destroy you.” Everything about Aiden King is black. Black mind. Black heart. Black soul. I should’ve remained quiet and endured the time I have left. I didn’t. I made the irrevocable mistake of provoking the king on his throne.

With a famous NHL player for a stepbrother, Violet Hall is well acquainted with the playboy reputation of many a hockey star. So of course she isn't interested in legendary team captain Alex Waters or his pretty, beat-up face and rock-hard six-pack abs. But when Alex inadvertently obliterates Violet's misapprehension regarding the inferior intellect of hockey players, he becomes much more than just a hot body with the face to match.

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.

My name is Rachel Price, and two months ago, I walked away from the perfect man. Sweet and funny, and so hot it should be illegal—we shared one magical night. No names. No strings. I never thought I'd see him again. I was wrong. It turns out Mr. Perfect is the playboy grinder for the Jacksonville Rays, the NHL's hottest new hockey team . . . and I'm his new physical therapist. Oh, and the jerk doesn't even recognize me!