Lucky Beneventi might be the villain in my fairytale, but given the choice, I'm not sure I'd have it any other way. My brother's best friend and Philly's favorite football player is the same cocky bad boy every girl wants and the dangerous temptation I was never supposed to touch. Until I did . . . And now, I can't stop. I'm selfish enough to crave him-his kiss, his body, his heart-even when I know I'll leave it shattered in the end. But this can't happen. We can't happen. I won't let us. Even if he makes me feel alive in a way my broken body knows won't last forever . . . Because the truth is when the story ends, Lucky isn't the villain. I am.