Will: Turning up on the first day of a job you desperately need to discover you’ve already slept with your billionaire boss? Yeah, that’s a bit of a conundrum. Learning he’s a closeted bisexual currently embroiled in a - by all accounts bogus - sexual harassment scandal? That’s more of a fiasco. But having to sit outside the office of one of the sexiest men alive, day in, day out, knowing there’s no chance of a repeat? That’s what I’d call a disaster.

Twelve years ago, I thought I had everything figured out: I’d go off to college, get my marketing degree, come back to my charming little hometown, help my high school sweetheart build his carpentry business, and live happily ever after. Instead, on the eve of my college departure, Slater Goode (henceforth known as The Devil) ripped my heart out of my chest and stomped all over it. But I don’t care about that anymore. At. All. Then I get some news: The Devil’s grandfather, whom I love as if he were my own, has passed away, and missing his funeral is not an option.

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.

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.

Payne. In search of: Room to rent. Must ignore the patheticness of a 40-year-old roommate. Preferably dirt cheap as funds are tight (nonexistent). There’s nothing sadder than moving back to my hometown newly divorced, homeless, and lost for what my next move is. When my little brother’s best friend offers me a place to stay in exchange for menial duties, I swallow my pride and jump at the offer. I need this. I also need Beau to wear a shirt. And ditch the gray sweatpants. And not leave his door ajar when he’s in compromising positions...

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.

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.

The Dean of Admissions at the girls’ dream school says only families with two parents need apply, and in desperation, Grant makes me a different offer: to be his on-paper husband. With things heating up between us and my heart hanging in the balance, how can I convince Grant to make me the proposal I really want: to turn this marriage of convenience into a real-life happily-ever-after?

Charles Preston Carmichael is the most infuriating man I've ever met. I want to sock the golden boy of college hockey right in the mouth. He enjoys telling me everything I'm messing up—publicly. And since he's my roommate for the next year, I can't avoid him. Yet there's something about him that makes me watch him. Something dark. A secret I want to uncover. When he returns from a weekend away, broken and haunted, I can't keep my distance anymore. He needs someone, and I'll be damned if it's not me.

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.

Being an identical twin doesn't come without issues. No one can tell us apart, not even our parents sometimes. We don't usually use that to our advantage, but it comes in handy when my brother needs help breaking up with his boyfriends - which happens more than I'd care to admit. I know it's enabling him, but I can't say no to Anders. I will do anything for my twin. The breakups always go the same; they're swift and simple. Until Reed. When I give in to temptation, it's not because he's a guy. It's because he thinks I'm my brother, and I can't bring myself to tell him the truth.

"Look out for Zach, and don't hit on him." My brother's request sounds easy enough. Keep an eye out for his best friend on campus and keep my hands to myself. Easy. Even if Zach is a quintessential nerd, who I've always thought was cute, I don't have the time to think with my...stick. There's only one stick I should be focused on this year, and that's my hockey stick. My goal once I graduate is to get an NHL contract. The last thing I need is a distraction. On or off the ice. Only, keeping to the rules is harder than I thought it would be.

Gigi Graham has exactly three goals: qualify for the women's national hockey team, win Olympic gold, and step out of her famous father's shadow. So far, so good, except for two little things. Fine—a little thing and a big, grumpy thing. She needs to improve her game behind the net, and she needs help from Luke Ryder. Ryder is six-foot five, built, opinionated, rude . . . and sexy as hell. But he's still the enemy.

Help! I've inherited my aunt's historic house in small-town Oregon, and I need to fix it up and sell it fast before I move on to my big-city dreams. I'm one of the navy's best investigators, but twenty years of living in base housing means DIY isn't part of my extensive skill set.

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.

Twelve years ago, I thought I had everything figured out: I’d go off to college, get my marketing degree, come back to my charming little hometown, help my high school sweetheart build his carpentry business, and live happily ever after. Instead, on the eve of my college departure, Slater Goode (henceforth known as The Devil) ripped my heart out of my chest and stomped all over it. But I don’t care about that anymore. At. All. Then I get some news: The Devil’s grandfather, whom I love as if he were my own, has passed away, and missing his funeral is not an option.

Lorenzo Moretti and Damon Blackwell have never met, but they're tied together by the same tragedy. They were both there that night. They each lost someone they loved... Enzo and Damon might not know much else, but...they know they're in love...But love alone can't get them through. Damon and Enzo must decide if they really have what it takes to work through their trauma and fight for the happily ever after that's waiting just on the horizon.

Will: Turning up on the first day of a job you desperately need to discover you’ve already slept with your billionaire boss? Yeah, that’s a bit of a conundrum. Learning he’s a closeted bisexual currently embroiled in a - by all accounts bogus - sexual harassment scandal? That’s more of a fiasco. But having to sit outside the office of one of the sexiest men alive, day in, day out, knowing there’s no chance of a repeat? That’s what I’d call a disaster.

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.

It starts as a simple favor. Now that he’s home from college, my best friend’s brother Tucker needs a place to stay, and I happen to have a spare room. Then it becomes a confession. Tucker tells me he’s a virgin. And he’s on a mission to swipe that V card once and for all. While Tucker searches for the perfect guy to pop his cherry, I find myself growing more agitated with the situation. He’s my best friend’s brother, a kid I’ve watched grow up; it’s normal for me to want to protect him. It has nothing to do with the way my stomach flips at the sight of his smile.