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.

I can’t walk away from Kit and Prescott. Kit is the stern nurturer I need. He’s the caretaker, the solid presence. Prescott enables my wild ways. He’s someone I can have fun with. They couldn’t be more perfect for me.

Harley: What happens when the most successful boy band on the planet breaks up? How about 20,000 fans screaming my name. But the price of fame comes with an increased risk to my safety. I've been avoiding the dreaded B word for as long as I can, but after a close call with a rambunctious fan, I can't do it anymore. It's time to give in. I need to hire a full-time bodyguard. And when he shows up, he not only screams badass, he's another B word I try to stay away from: boyfriend material.

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.

"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.

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.

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.

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...

Ever since we met two years ago, Eden Burkehammer has made everything better. The big defenseman sets me at ease. He’s a beast on the ice—brutal and physical—but when it’s the two of us, he turns to me with these unexpectedly soft brown eyes. This gravelly laugh that makes my whole body smile. And yeah, I might have thrown a glance his way a time or two in the steamed-up locker room showers—you know, just curious. But he’s my best friend. My teammate. Roommate. I don’t want to mess with that. Just the thought of losing him sends a cold zap the full length of my spine.

Hockey is in my blood. I learned to skate before I learned how to ride a bike. I’ve been on a wild ride, playing at the highest level for some of the biggest and best teams in the league. But now it’s over, and I’m not sure what to do with myself. So I'm going home to Elmwood. But I’ll tell you what I’m not gonna do—I’m not going to coach my buddy’s junior hockey league. No chance. I don’t know how to deal with kids, and besides, the other coach—who happens to be my best friend’s brother—hates me. With reason.

My name is Rachel Price, and two months ago, I walked away from the perfect man. Sweet and funny, and so hot it should be illegal—we shared one magical night. No names. No strings. I never thought I'd see him again. I was wrong. It turns out Mr. Perfect is the playboy grinder for the Jacksonville Rays, the NHL's hottest new hockey team . . . and I'm his new physical therapist. Oh, and the jerk doesn't even recognize me!

I’ve had a crush on my brother’s best friend since the moment I laid eyes on him four years ago. Warner Ramsey is 225 pounds of pure hotness, a media darling, and one of the best NFL quarterbacks in the league. Hell, he’s the reason I figured out I’m solidly bi. It was easy to keep my crush under control when I was in college. Now, we play for the same team, and every time he talks smack, I want to shut him up. With my mouth.

I can’t walk away from Kit and Prescott. Kit is the stern nurturer I need. He’s the caretaker, the solid presence. Prescott enables my wild ways. He’s someone I can have fun with. They couldn’t be more perfect for me.

Harley: What happens when the most successful boy band on the planet breaks up? How about 20,000 fans screaming my name. But the price of fame comes with an increased risk to my safety. I've been avoiding the dreaded B word for as long as I can, but after a close call with a rambunctious fan, I can't do it anymore. It's time to give in. I need to hire a full-time bodyguard. And when he shows up, he not only screams badass, he's another B word I try to stay away from: boyfriend material.

When I quit the biggest boy band on the planet, I was supposed to get my life back. It's not that I wanted to leave the spotlight. I felt like I had to for my daughter. Her picture shouldn't be splashed all over the tabloids. I thought I could do this parenting thing on my own, but it's obvious I need help. I just didn't expect to find it in the form of a gorgeous guy I meet by chance. I can put my attraction aside for my daughter's sake. I've put my whole life on hold for her. If only he wasn't so tempting.

He's a bad man, and I don't mean trash like your ex. I mean seriously bad. I mean dangerous. You can tell just by looking at him: black eyes, a menacing scowl, and a nose that's been badly broken in the past. He is my arch-nemesis. My mortal enemy. My singular obsession. I was afraid of him when we met. He kidnapped and chained me to a bed. Me—Damon Alexander Beckett of BeckIT fame and fortune. Well, the joke's on him because I'm going to make it my life's mission to destroy him. But first, I have to survive being his captive.

"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.

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 have one rule to live by: Don't Date a DILF. I've seen the consequences of blurring the boundaries between teaching life and dating life, and I'm not about to take that kind of risk.

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.

Failing to make it in pro ball left me absolutely devastated. Baseball has been my life, my dream, but it’s time to move on. Becoming a sports agent was always my back-up plan, and now that I’m interning at the biggest queer-focused firm in the country, I’m doing my best not to let my bitterness toward baseball affect my future. That’s really difficult when I’m assigned to babysit Kelley Afton, hotshot rookie pitcher for Philly. He has everything I ever wanted, and he doesn’t even appreciate it. I didn’t become an agent so I could soothe the ego of diva athletes.

Moms are good at one thing: the guilt trip. It’s the only reason I’m at the funeral of a man I’ve never had anything to do with. I’ll show up, make her happy, and get out. At least that’s what I think until I learn daddy dearest has left me a crap load of money and the obligation to learn about the family business. All from his eldest son who looks nothing like the rest of us.

Being a lifelong Chicago Thunder fan, I know that Blaine Olsen is trouble. Because all hockey players are. He's a notorious playboy, and I refuse to be another notch on his bedpost. But when he shows me the part of himself he keeps hidden, it gets harder to resist him.

Luca D'Amato is a ruthless killer, feared and respected by all who know him. But when he discovers that his next target is the man who once saved his life, he can't bring himself to go through with the hit. Instead, Luca pleads with his boss to spare Finch's life—to take him as a hostage instead.

George Hunt can think of nothing he’d like more than to skip the high-society fundraiser where he has to guard a precocious seventeen-year-old girl and her judgmental therapist, but there’s no way out of it. If anything bad were to happen and he wasn’t there to stop it, he’d never forgive himself. So even though she’s grilling him about his dating life and the good doctor is psychoanalyzing him, he’s going to soldier on, because protecting his charges is what a knight does.

After trading the barracks for a fixer-upper rental, navy SEAL Zack Nelson wants peace, not a roommate—especially not Pike, who sees things about Zack he most wants to hide. Pike's flirting puts virgin Zack on edge. And the questions Pike's arrival would spark from Zack's teammates about his own sexuality? Nope. Not going there. But Zack can't refuse. Pike Reynolds knows there won't be a warm welcome in his new home. What can he say? He's an acquired taste. But he needs this chance to get his life together. Also, teasing the uptight SEAL will be hella fun.

All people see when they look at me is a beautiful man, a supermodel, half of the world’s most famous twins. No one sees the man underneath. When I return to Forestville, the small town I grew up in, for my high school reunion, I impulsively decide to stay.