Hating Justin Jennings should be a lot easier than this. He nearly ruined my life, and I swore when I left town that I’d become the opposite of him in every possible way. I’ve kept that promise, traveling the world to save the people who cannot save themselves. The lost, the trafficked, the stolen. This work is my life’s mission, and now my father has given me the land to expand my operations.

I just told off my billionaire CEO in front of the entire company, and it was totally worth it. Do I care that a viral video of our exchange sent his stocks into freefall? Nope. Am I going to help Rand Wolfe rehab his company’s reputation? Not a chance in hell. There’s just one problem: I’m the bastard son of a mafia don, a fact Wolfe finds out the hard way when he tracks me down at the docks. Saving his life puts a mafia-style extradition order on my head, and the only place to hide is his high-rise penthouse.

My loser high school friend never deserved him anyway. If I’d had the chance, I would have locked Remy down years ago. Only, when the party leads to a drunken kiss, going on their honeymoon, and sharing their marital bed, I have to say, I’m not entirely sad that their wedding went up in flames.

At 12, he was my best friend. At 16, he became my crush. And now, at 34, he’s the man I’m still pining after. Falling in love with Easton was never part of the plan. But now that I’ve done it, I can’t seem to stop. It doesn’t help that we’re living under the same roof. Or that Easton is so dang sweet I want to lick him from head to toe.

Everett: There are a ton of reasons why falling for my tiny, adorkable best friend is a terrible idea - starting with the body in my trunk. I have other reasons - he still mourns his late husband. I’m way older, he’s a foot shorter, my tattoo shop is a front, he’s an assistant professor at UT. Still, I can’t help but think we’d be perfect for each other if I didn’t kill people (very, very bad people) for a living.

The job at Sunday Orchard was supposed to be temporary. A chance to gain some work experience, to have some fun. I had not expected to be welcomed into a family of gorgeous and weirdly efficient lumberjack-types, or to find purpose in the tiny Vermont town whose claim to fame seemed to be apple-based products and copious amounts of charm. And I most definitely hadn’t expected to fall for Knox Sunday, my grumpy, burly, fifteen-years-older, reluctant roommate, with his infuriating lectures, his hot-as-fire body, his superior attitude - I’ve never been one to put down roots.

As a founding member of The Vers, a queer podcast I host with my three best friends, I’m "The Loner"—quieter than the others, and except for them, I don’t let myself get too close to people. Most of them just let you down anyway, or maybe it’s just that something about me chases people away.

My name is Hudson Newgate, but my teammates call me "New Guy". That was my nickname in Chicago, too. And Vancouver. That’s what happens when you keep getting traded. Brooklyn is my last chance, especially after my poor performance last season.

Conor: It starts with a drunken text pic. The kind I would normally never send. Only, instead of it going to the flirty hotel bartender, it goes to some random stranger who actually responds. Wells: The first thing I notice about Conor Newell when he sits down in my high-rise conference room is how delightfully nervous he is. Then I see his tie. The same geeky tie that’s held hostage on my phone. The one that belongs to my anonymous late-night texter. And it changes everything.

As a divorced man in my thirties with a throwaway job and very few friends, I admit that I've made a lot of bad decisions over the years. Rounding out the top of that epic list was allowing my son's best friend, Quinn, to talk me into taking him on a two-week summer road trip... alone. What was supposed to be quality father-son bonding time before Joshua went off to college has somehow transpired into a battle of wills between me and his nineteen-year-old best friend. Quinn may be young, but he genuinely seems to enjoy spending time with me, something I've never experienced before.

When it comes to hockey, I'm all about the game. I've worked for years to be one of the best in the league, and l've done it without splashing my orientation all over the tabloids. My hockey image is one I've carefully cultivated, and after one night with Ezra Palaszczuk, I risk it all. He's cocky, obnoxious, and has an ego bigger than Massachusetts. And okay, maybe he's the sexiest man I've ever known. We'll never get along. Not when we sleep together. Not even when my possessive streak awakens. That doesn't stop us from falling into bed together over and over again.

I hired Ben under false pretenses. He may think I don’t know who he truly is, but I do. Even so, I'm tempted to trust him. His family may be full of con artists, but Ben is too innocent for his own good. Trustworthy or not, I'm going to keep him in my sights.

Danny Kingman is used to fending for himself. Working nonstop as an ER nurse to pay for his mother’s care, he’s been putting his own life on hold for as long as he can remember. But when an unbelievably hot, strangely intense man saves him from a mugging, Danny has a feeling everything is about to change. Especially when that man suddenly pops out a pair of fangs.

I'm a list person. Lists make sense, they give a chaotic, unpredictable world order. Realizing I was gay at 30 definitely wasn't on my list. I guess I need a new list….

Being invited to my cousin’s wedding really shouldn’t be a big deal except, oh yeah, I haven't seen my family for a decade. My parents turned their backs on me, and I’ve done everything since to become successful and show them what they've lost. Only it’s kinda hard to be a success when you’re a walking trainwreck.

Hating Justin Jennings should be a lot easier than this. He nearly ruined my life, and I swore when I left town that I’d become the opposite of him in every possible way. I’ve kept that promise, traveling the world to save the people who cannot save themselves. The lost, the trafficked, the stolen. This work is my life’s mission, and now my father has given me the land to expand my operations.

Everett: There are a ton of reasons why falling for my tiny, adorkable best friend is a terrible idea - starting with the body in my trunk. I have other reasons - he still mourns his late husband. I’m way older, he’s a foot shorter, my tattoo shop is a front, he’s an assistant professor at UT. Still, I can’t help but think we’d be perfect for each other if I didn’t kill people (very, very bad people) for a living.

What's the first rule of running a gym by and for combat vets? Enjoy the scorching hot scenery, but get your kicks somewhere else. Never mind that my cousin-slash-business partner ignores that rule every chance he gets. I don't ignore it. Ever. And frankly, between Grindr, and living in one of the gayest cities in America, it's not exactly a hardship. That is, until a pair of blue eyes, swimming with vulnerability, shows up at my door, looking for a job. He's too skinny, too mouthy, and way too young for the likes of me, but he pings that protector instinct in me - hard.

I'm a gay preacher with more tattoos than sense and more notches on my bedpost than years in the ministry. You've heard of those romances where the priest is seduced by the worldly outsider? Yeah, this isn't that. I'm also not totally settled on the existence of God. Call me a skeptic, but when you work with abandoned and abused teenagers, you tend to have a few questions for anyone calling themselves divine.

Being invited to my cousin’s wedding really shouldn’t be a big deal except, oh yeah, I haven't seen my family for a decade. My parents turned their backs on me, and I’ve done everything since to become successful and show them what they've lost. Only it’s kinda hard to be a success when you’re a walking trainwreck.

I was intrigued by Crow at first glance. Who wouldn't be? He's a mountain of a man, who was raised in a cult, and now lives secluded in the wilderness. But the draw I feel to him goes beyond mild interest. When his intense gaze falls my way it feels like he can see into my soul, to my deepest yearnings and desires. I took a bold chance venturing to his mountain uninvited. But I can't help myself. Despite Crow’s dangerous facade, I feel at home when I’m near him. I've never felt wanted or needed… until the mountain man took me in his arms.

New York Admirals captain Scott Hunter takes his pregame rituals very seriously. In this case, it's not just a lucky smoothie he's craving - it's the man who made it. Pro hockey star Scott Hunter knows a good thing when he sees it. So, when a smoothie made by juice bar barista Kip Grady precedes Scott breaking his on-ice slump, he's desperate to recreate the magic...and to get to know the sexy, funny guy behind the counter.

What’s a straight guy to do when he accidentally goes on a date with his brand new gym-bro? Offer to be the best wingman ever, of course! It’s foolproof. Joey needs a man? I’ll find him one. He wants someone who looks, well, kind of like me? No problem! Not into watersports? I’ve got him covered. The issue is, going on all these dates with Joey makes me realize I want more of his time to be spent with me. I like the guy. And his smile. And the way he makes me feel like anything is possible.

Don’t play dirty. That’s the code I live by on and off the field. The other?Don’t get distracted. Not by the media, not by hookups, and definitely not by our rival team’s ridiculously charming star player, who loves to whisper dirty nothings to me every time we play ball. And sure, his offers are tempting, but he’s the love ‘em and leave ‘em type, and I want the real thing.

At 12, he was my best friend. At 16, he became my crush. And now, at 34, he’s the man I’m still pining after. Falling in love with Easton was never part of the plan. But now that I’ve done it, I can’t seem to stop. It doesn’t help that we’re living under the same roof. Or that Easton is so dang sweet I want to lick him from head to toe.

Victor Lang had everything—looks, money, fame. A chance to become the greatest swimmer in history. Until a failed dope test brought him crashing down. According to the rumors, he turned into a recluse, a drug addict, a whore. Broken beyond repair. Incapable of love.

Julian was the boy next door. My brother's best friend, he fit with my family in ways I never could. While he and Rhett went on to play house, I left the only life I knew, desperate for a fresh start. Until everything changed. Heartache came along, and the aftermath of my brother's death was here to stay. I was now face to face with Julian more than I ever wanted to be. Being around him brought up all my insecurities, forced me to deal with hard truths, and conjured up feelings I had no business entertaining. He wasn't the man I thought I knew.

When Felix lands a job taking care of a man recovering from severe injuries, he thinks his life may have just turned around. Anything has to be better than the place he's leaving. There's something about Lane that draws Felix to him and makes him question if this place could finally become a home for him. But when someone begins stalking Felix, he is left to question who Lane is and what actually happened to him. Together, Felix and Lane will be forced to see just how far they will go to protect each other.

You think you know me. That's the way I want it. Making you feel like we know each other - like we could go grab a beer sometime - is part of my job. Maybe the most vital part. It doesn't hurt that I'm easy on the eyes, single at 35, and born richer than sin. My aesthetic matters much more than it should, but all the better for my worthy cause. And it's a worthy cause. I've made an art out of making you feel good, and my influence makes you want to be good. Good like me. You think you know me, but you don't. Everyone has secrets. Mine could cost me everything.

When it comes to hockey, I'm all about the game. I've worked for years to be one of the best in the league, and l've done it without splashing my orientation all over the tabloids. My hockey image is one I've carefully cultivated, and after one night with Ezra Palaszczuk, I risk it all. He's cocky, obnoxious, and has an ego bigger than Massachusetts. And okay, maybe he's the sexiest man I've ever known. We'll never get along. Not when we sleep together. Not even when my possessive streak awakens. That doesn't stop us from falling into bed together over and over again.