There’s always that one girl who has all these dreams, yet she can’t reach them because she’s constantly tripping over her own two feet. That’s me. I’m that girl. The unorganized, chaotic, hot mess. I’m the struggling artist who refuses to give up my love for pizza just because society constantly shoves thin, perfectly toned bodies in my face saying that’s what women are supposed to look like. Oh, and I’m filthy rich. On paper anyway. I can’t touch my trust fund just yet, so to get those nasty debt-collectors off my back I rent out the snazzy mansion my parents left me. Of course it has to be Tate Montgomery who moves in—the super sexy celebrity with three million, five hundred and twenty-six followers on Instagram. And of course I have to be the paint-covered walking disaster who falls for said famous tenant. The problem? Tate and I, we’re not compatible…at all. He’s arrogant. I’m stubborn. It’s a train wreck waiting to happen. Yet, I end up kissing him anyway. Told you I was a mess.