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Along comes trouble ... and he's perfect. I hate him. From his stupid truck, to his thick, dark-chocolate hair. From the baseball cap pulled low over his eyes, to the Henley stretched across his broad shoulders. I don't care how good he looks when he smiles, Colton Carmichael is insufferable. And obviously, the feeling is mutual. I've spent my entire life focused on the future, busting my butt through college while everyone else was hooking up and partying. I'm on track to meet my goals and I'm not about to let some muscle-clad jerk traipse into my world and mess everything up. Every time we run into each other, there's a spark big enough to start a wildfire. I don't care if he does set off butterflies in my stomach. I know what's good for me, and it isn't Colton Carmichael.



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