Cleo White

I am a walking, talking disaster. Sometimes it feels like every step I take leads to a mistake that is painful or embarrassing, or painful and embarrassing, and it's pretty remarkable that natural selection hasn't taken me out yet. The point is, I have a lot of experience in cleaning up my own...

While I'm not clear on where one gets an official copy of the girl code, it seems like "thou shalt not covet thy bestie's hot dad" would be pretty high on that list.

Not every "once upon a time" ends in a happily ever after. My fairytale, for instance, didn't come with a handsome Prince Charming, a night at the ball, or a magical pumpkin carriage.

I dedicated my entire life to ballet, and what did it get me? A limp, an intact v-card, and zero job prospects. Squatting in my sister's apartment, watching game shows, and feeling sorry for myself seems like an ideal way to pass the time until I figure out what to do next.

I know a bad idea when I see one, and the unfairly handsome stranger I meet on the airport shuttle is a really bad idea. Especially when the silver fox turns out not to be a stranger at all, and steering clear isn't an option.

In retrospect, it might not have been the wisest idea to hand in my V-card to a hot librarian I picked up at my mother's cocktail party. In my defense, the man has a French accent, gray hair, and knows a lot about books. The cards were really stacked against me making good choices, folks.

So, before you judge me too harshly for what I'm about to tell you, I think it's important to lead with the disclaimer that this is not like me. At all.

BROOKS I've made a name for myself as one of the best sports medicine doctors in the country. I have a thriving practice and a handful of awards that say I'm an excellent surgeon without getting attached to my patients. That all changed when a seventeen-year-old Olympic snowboarder walked into...