Bro Code - La série

Mission: Survive my best friend's wedding, where I must play nice with my ex and his perfect new girlfriend. Strategy: Bring the hottest fake boyfriend on the planet. Target: Grady Rock. Master Baker. Dimples. Muscles. The unicorn of fake boyfriends. Complication: Wyatt Morgan. My brother's best friend. My sworn enemy. Military man. Sexy as hell single dad. The man I let into my panties for one night of hot hate sex after my ex dumped me. And the man who just scared off that perfect fake boyfriend. By pretending to be my real boyfriend. I can roll with this though. What’s the harm in Flirting with the Frenemy if it helps me get the job done? Complete my mission and move on. Or so I thought. Until Wyatt kisses me again and I start feeling things I shouldn't. The thing about weddings...nothing ever goes as planned.

Remember that time you accidentally sexted your in-laws? Yeah. I just did that. Except worse. Now my million social media followers are reading and sharing the rude, smartass message I meant to send privately to my little sister...and I’m officially public enemy number one. I’m Beck Ryder. Former boy bander. Underwear model. Fashion mogul. And I just buried my entire leg in my mouth—not just my foot—modern internet style, and publicly insulted my sister’s neighbor. Sarah Dempsey. Also known as the woman of my dreams, who loves geeky TV shows, baseball, and giraffes, who’s just as turned on by food as I am, and who has a huge secret that I didn’t see coming. Now it's time to grovel and apologize publicly on social media and hope that those same followers who helped start the raging shitstorm will help calm the waters. Because Sarah doesn’t want the spotlight. For very good reasons that I can’t tell you right now and trying to convince her to be my fake girlfriend to fix this mess and make me look like less of a jackass is worse than taking a kick to the nuts by Jackie Chan. And I thought modeling underwear made me feel naked. Trying to start a relationship in the era of the twitterazzi isn’t all that it’s cracked up to be.

The lies will come back to bite you every time... Never borrow pants from your brother. Especially if he’s a size smaller than you are, because all that pressure in the junk will short-circuit your brain. And you’ll lie to a woman in a club about your real name. Leave her unsatisfied after making out in a bathroom. Then find out that she’s the one thing standing in the way of your dreams. And she very much doesn’t like being lied to. Now I have to convince Lila Valentine—the woman I can’t stop thinking about, my biggest regret, and my new boss—that I’m what’s best for the baseball team she’s inherited. If we can’t work together to save the Fireballs, the commissioner’s forcing a sale and moving them across the country. I’ll do anything to save my home team. But the one thing I can’t do? Keep my hands to myself. Which would be fine, if she hadn’t been telling me lies this whole time too.

A rock star / single mom / fairy tale romcom You don’t know me, but you do know me. I’m your neighborhood hot mess single mom, doing my best to keep my head above water while running my little slice of heaven and keeping my youngest from shoving marbles up his nose, which is exactly what he’s doing the first time Levi Wilson, pop star god, world’s sexiest man, and my all-time number one celebrity obsession, walks into my bookstore. Related: I’m writing this from beyond the grave, because I’ve died of mortification and am now residing in an alternate universe. I have to be. Because Levi Wilson came back. And we had a moment. Like, a moment moment. The kind that makes me remember that adult pleasure isn’t all about hoping the lock holds in the bathroom so your kids don’t interrupt on the rare occasion you feel like taking an extra-long mommy-time shower. So when he proposes a no-strings fling? Count. Me. In. Thrill of a lifetime, right? Surely, nothing will go wrong…