They say the line that separates love from hate is thin. So thin in fact that the two almost coexist. Almost. It’s also been said that when a dude is a jerk to a girl, it’s because, deep down, he wants her. I’m calling bullshit on all of it. Tate Tracy is about to find out that I’m not the nice boy anymore. Nor am I a forgiving person. She might have been my best friend for eighteen years, but now, she’s no one. And if I have to remind her of that, I will. Even if we’re going to be stuck living in an apartment … together. The trouble is, I’ve only ever had one weakness in life. And it’s Tate Tracy.