500-mile road trip! Mission? Get over the guy you kinda-sorta hooked up with. Problem? He's your new road-trip companion. To Play... So, yeah. Here's me heading out on this stupid soul-searching road trip to get over The Turd, and here he is leaning against my car, all easy charm, batting his ridiculously long eyelashes, and asking for a ride. Explaining why he can't come along would be admitting my struggle to purge him from my thoughts. The universe is laughing at me. I can't fall for a short-term playboy. But tell that to my body, which up and goes hey there as soon as his pheromones get within sniffing distance. Or Not to Play... My reputation as a player isn't just smoke and mirrors. I play the field. Constantly. No strings sex? Perfect. But ever since a certain shy book nerd slipped under my skin, I haven't wanted anyone but her. The kicker? She blew me off the next morning. Now that I'm stranded and she's my only ride, maybe I can find out why our awesome night together turned into her ghosting me.