I guess I just forgot. To ask him what he did for a living, I mean. By the time I did, I was in—deep. He was the perfect boyfriend. Attentive, gorgeous, guessing my every wish and fulfilling them. The sex was earth-shattering. He even dealt with my crazy mom the way no one else could. He popped the question, God, such a perfect guy. There was just one issue: He slept with other girls on camera for a living. How the heck do you deal with that?

It wasn't a problem to be the only girl in a house full of guys. Until my fiancé died and his identical twin took over the roost. Sweet, easygoing Julian passed, while loathsome, bossy Luka, who pays his way through med school by getting his dick wet on film, is still alive. What kind of twisted reality is this? Now, Luka’s on a mission to fix both of our grief. Like I’d ever accept anything from him. He doesn’t understand that gorgeous and sexy mean nothing if you’re a promiscuous jerk. If only the nights didn’t destroy me. They’re painful and long and empty, until, on a Monday night, my insomnia attracts Diego. That Tuesday, it attracts Lenny. Next, it’s Marlon, James, Nathaniel, and on Saturday, it’s Connor. By Sunday night, I get the picture. This is Luka doing what Luka does: solve problems with sex. His remote-controlled comfort leaves me in our roommates’ arms six of seven nights. On Sunday, there’s only one man left in the house. There’s no way in hell I’m opening my door—or my heart—to a porn star.