Me and love go together like oil & water. Hence why I’ve never been with a man. What’s the big deal anyway? The kind of men I like never like me, and the men who do like me? Oh right, there aren’t any. The last one ended up falling in love with my best friend. I have bigger things to worry about anyway. Like saving my library from demolition. Until he shows up. A tattooed bad boy with a body that belongs on a romance book and eyes that undress me with every glance. Gulp. He’s trouble. Ex-con kind of trouble. Hooking up in the car kind of trouble. I’m not that girl—at least I didn’t used to be. He’s the definition of what I shouldn’t want. So it begs the question. Why him?