Rule #1 of one-night stands: Don't fall in love. (Duh.)

Rule #2: Don't let them find you. (It's a one-night stand, after all.)

Rule #3: DEFINITELY don't end up as their roommate. (See rules 1 and 2.)

The rules are obvious. And yet I broke all three.

When Beck sat next to me at that concert in LA, I thought it was just going to be one perfect night. The kind you remember forever but never repeat. Then he disappeared without a trace, and I told myself it was for the best.

But the universe had other plans.

Now he's my teammate on the Wildwood Wolverines hockey team AND my roommate for the entire freshman year.

Every morning, I wake up to his stupid gorgeous face.

Every practice, I watch him on the ice.

Every night, I lie awake wondering if he remembers how perfectly we fit together.

We're supposed to hate each other. So why does it feel like we're one heated argument away from picking up exactly where we left off?

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