We met in the least likely of places. It started out innocently enough. I was “ScreenGod”, and she was “Montana”, but of course those weren’t our actual names, just the virtual cloaks we hid behind. Logging in at night and talking to her was my escape - my sanctuary. Her real name was Eden, I’d soon come to find out. From the first time we connected online, I found myself transfixed. She was an addiction. At first, we knew nothing about each other’s real identities...and she was adamant that we keep things that way.

It was the summer of my life. I’d met the guy of my dreams. Unfortunately, he was the son of my uppity employer - and very much off-limits. But Gavin was a rebel. He knew his mother would disown him if she found out about us; in his eyes, we just had to be careful. He never treated me as his mother did - like hired help. Instead, Gavin put me on a pedestal and loved me harder than I’d ever been loved in my life.

It’s natural to want the one you can’t have. And for as long as I could remember, I’d secretly wanted my brother’s best friend, Jace. He was six years older and always treated me like the sister he never had. Fast forward a decade. We were all in our 20s now. Jace had moved in with my brother, Nathan, and me to help us make ends meet after our parents died. It was just the three of us - an odd family dynamic. Living under our roof, Jace was as bossy and protective as ever. But he certainly didn’t look at me like a sister anymore. That was what made things so complicated.

I'm writing this letter because it's highly doubtful I'll ever garner the courage to say this to your face. So, here goes. We're totally wrong for each other. You're the proper single mum with a good head on your shoulders. I'm just the carefree British doctor passing through town and temporarily living in your converted garage until I head back to England. But here's the thing... for some bloody reason, I can't stop thinking about you in very inappropriate ways.

Growing up, the three of us were friends. He was the nerd. I was the playboy. She was the beauty. Deep down, I only ever wanted her. I kept it inside because Rory and I made a pact that our friend, Amber, was off-limits. He lied. I went off to college, and he got the girl. Amber never knew how I felt. They were together for years - before he broke her heart. Through it all and across the miles, she and I casually stayed in touch. When my job sent me to Boston for a three-month contract position, Amber let me stay in her spare room.

Finding a good roommate through a classified ad isn’t as easy as it sounds. I was starting to lose hope. Until a knock at my door came, and God answered my prayers. Except...uh...wrong prayer, God. I’d definitely requested the big guy find me a drop-dead gorgeous man on more than one occasion...just not as my roommate. Declan Tate talked me into interviewing him anyway. While he was amusing and charismatic, I wouldn’t have been comfortable living with a man, so I regretfully declined. Then, cupcakes showed up at my door.

When I first encountered Ford Donovan, I had no idea who he was...well, other than the obvious. Young, gorgeous, successful, smart. Did I mention young? If I did, it bears repeating. Ford Donovan was too young for me. Let’s back up to how it all started. My best friend decided I needed to start dating again. So, without my knowledge, she set up a profile for me on a popular dating site - one that invited men ages 21 to 27 to apply for a date.

They called him Mack Daddy. No, seriously, his name was Mack. Short for Mackenzie. Thus, the nickname. Perfect, right? So was he: perfect. The perfect physical male specimen. At the private school where I taught, Mack Morrison was the only man around in a sea of women.

It was just a typical Monday. Until the big boss asked me to make the pitch for a prospective new client. After two years on shaky ground at work because of my screw up, an opportunity to impress the senior partners was just what I needed. Or so I thought, until I walked into the conference room and collided with the man I was supposed to pitch to. My coffee spilled, my files tumbled to the ground, and I almost lost my balance. And that was the good part of my day. Because the gorgeous man who crouched down and looked at me like he wanted to eat me alive was none other than my ex.

The day I showed up to Dax Moody’s sprawling home, I had no idea what was coming. As a traveling massage therapist, I was used to entering the houses of strangers. But this assignment was different from any before it. From the outside, I’d correctly assumed the owner was rich. What I didn’t realize was that he would be younger than I’d imagined, single, stunningly gorgeous, and mysterious.

The first time I met Caine West was in a bar. He noticed me looking his way and mistakenly read my scowling as checking him out. When he attempted to talk to me, I set him straight -- telling him what I thought of his lying, cheating, egomaniacal ass. You see, the gorgeous jerk had wined and dined my best friend-smooth talking her into his bed, all along failing to mention that he was married. He deserved every bit of my tongue-lashing and more for what he'd done.

Reasons why I should not be drawn to Troy Serrano. Number one: He’s obnoxious. Number two: We were enemies more than a decade ago. Number three: He’s my friend’s ex-boyfriend. I could go on and on, really. When my boss gives me an unwanted assignment, and tells me it involves spending time with the grandson of one of our residents, the grandson turns out to be Troy. Lucky me. Four hours a week of having to deal with his insufferable personality and unsolicited advice - the only consolation is getting to stare at his annoyingly gorgeous face, in between our many arguments.

The beginning of my sophomore year in college was off to a rough start. On the first day of orientation, I had an altercation with an infuriating British dude in a campus bathroom. (The ladies’ room was out of order. So, I used the men’s room. Don’t judge.) I got home later that night and realized that the foreign student we were expecting to rent a room in my parents’ house was allergic to our cat. So, the spare room went to someone else: Caleb - the British guy from the men’s room. And so it began...my love-hate story with Caleb Yates. Or was it hate-love in that order?

The one that got away. Every girl has one, right? Mine was a charming, British aristocrat who turned my world upside down one summer. From the moment I first spotted Leo in the distance through my binoculars, I’d been captivated. I certainly never expected to find a man showering outside of the property across the bay in his birthday suit.

Bennett Fox walked into my life on one hell of a crappy Monday morning. I was late for the first day at my new job - a job I’d now have to compete for, even though I’d already worked eight years to earn it, because of an unexpected merger. While I lugged my belongings up to my new office, a meter maid wrote me a parking summons. She’d ticketed a long line of cars - except for the Audi parked in front of me, which happened to be the same make and model as mine. Annoyed, I decided to regift my ticket to the car that had evaded a fine.