Who forgets marrying a football player? Me, apparently. Turns out countless shots and a bad breakup lead to questionable decision making. But waking up in Vegas with a ring on my finger beside a hot, naked man is hard to ignore. I married Parker Wilder. Thanks to our quickie nuptials, I’ll get my inheritance, and he’ll get his family and their well-intentioned meddling off his back.

Forgetting the wedding was the easy part. Being married to him is a whole different story. Parker is too … everything. Chiseled by the gods good-looking. A heartbreaking kind of broody. The kind of man you know will wreck you for all others. Good thing this is all pretend. And oh, how we pretend. We pretend ourselves right into me ripping the clothes off his body.

It’s all fun and fake marriage until the day he gets a knock on the door with the surprise of a lifetime. Until the bomb goes off and we’re left to pick up the pieces. Until the pretending stops and we’re left with only one question: was any of it real?