The last thing I want is another relationship or another broken heart. All I need are my bees and the occasional hookup to scratch the itch. Okay, maybe meeting up with my hot contractor weekly is a little more than occasional. And maybe the way I’m starting to feel about the guy I’ve been anonymously chatting with online should concern me. But CaulkyAF doesn’t want to meet, and Cole doesn’t want anything serious, so what’s the worst that could happen?

Between running a garage full of beefed-up gear-head mechanics and bailing my idiot brother out of trouble every other week, the last thing I have time for is a relationship. I’ve tried it too many times, and the ridiculous reasons I always find to end it have become a running joke around the garage. But I’ve learned my lesson. No. More. Boyfriends. I don’t care how many times Porter falls asleep drunk in my bed or how cute he looks covered in oil smears while I teach him how to fix up the vintage car he has rusting away in his garage; I’m not going to fall for him.

I never thought a night out could change everything. All I wanted was to dance, drink, maybe take a cute guy home for a night of fun. I met the guy, but the night ended as a nightmare. Screams and blood and tragedy haunt my dreams. I'm alive and I owe it all to the gorgeous marine who refused to leave me for dead. But how can I start a new relationship when I'm not even sure who I am anymore?

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….

We haven't spoken in 15 years, and Marlon is the last person I expected to run into in a bar on Bourbon Street. He's not my gangly internet pen pal anymore; he's all muscles, body hair, and temptation. Our friendship feels like it never faded, but the heat between us is brand-new. We're both in different cities every few weeks, hustling to build our careers and soaking up all the perks of being young, hot, and untethered. But our paths seem to be crossing more and more often.

All my life, I’ve dreamed of one thing: the perfect movie moment. I want a man and his boombox outside my window; I want kissing in the rain; I want a romantic hero who will take my breath away. Switching mail with my cute neighbor didn’t work. Swapping coffee with a hottie at the coffee shop just got the poor barista yelled at. And bus guy? Total bust. I’m starting to wonder if Hollywood got the whole meet-cute thing wrong. Sacrilege, I know. Is it possible the perfect leading man has been living in the apartment above me the entire time, playing the role of my best friend?

I’ve been living under storm clouds since my honorable discharge, but Julian’s the sun. I’ve tried everything to deal with my PTSD, but nothing seemed to help. So when my brother suggests a service dog, I figure I don’t have anything to lose. The last thing I expect is for the dog to come with a cheerful, quirky trainer I can’t get out of my head. I’m too screwed up for love, but a chance to explore a side of myself I didn’t realize existed until recently is too good to pass up.

I’m everyone’s friend, but no one’s everything...I love working for Ballsy Boys, but when you make the kind of videos I do, relationships are pretty damn impossible. Guys find me sexy and want to either be with me or be me, but no one has ever cared enough to see the real me. Until I meet Troy...who shows up in a banana suit at my door. Long story.

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.

Saying I've had a crush on my best friend's older brother, Pax, most of my life is like saying the big bang was just an explosion. It's true, but I'm not sure that quite captures the essence of its true enormity. I don't think my advanced physics knowledge is going to help me figure this one out. But I think for once I'm okay with not knowing, as long as Pax and I don't know together.

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.

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...

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.

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.

The last thing I want is another relationship or another broken heart. All I need are my bees and the occasional hookup to scratch the itch. Okay, maybe meeting up with my hot contractor weekly is a little more than occasional. And maybe the way I’m starting to feel about the guy I’ve been anonymously chatting with online should concern me. But CaulkyAF doesn’t want to meet, and Cole doesn’t want anything serious, so what’s the worst that could happen?

Between running a garage full of beefed-up gear-head mechanics and bailing my idiot brother out of trouble every other week, the last thing I have time for is a relationship. I’ve tried it too many times, and the ridiculous reasons I always find to end it have become a running joke around the garage. But I’ve learned my lesson. No. More. Boyfriends. I don’t care how many times Porter falls asleep drunk in my bed or how cute he looks covered in oil smears while I teach him how to fix up the vintage car he has rusting away in his garage; I’m not going to fall for him.

I left my family and tiny Texas hometown 15 years ago to escape small-town gossips and to give my mom and sister the chance at a better life. But when a phone call from an attorney back home informs me that my sister passed away, leaving me custody of her newborn baby, I'm shocked out of the steady life I've built for myself running a tattoo shop in San Francisco. The thing is: I don't do babies. And I don't do small towns. Or commitment. And I especially don't do family.

When half your face is covered in a big, blotchy birthmark, you get used to the staring and the whispers. You get used to feeling unwanted. Until he walks into my bar.... Tall, gorgeous, and all kinds of out of place. And the way he looks at me ain’t like no way I've ever seen before.

Caelan James should've known better than to let a dating app set him up on a blind date. Nothing in life was guaranteed-perfect, especially not guys, and most definitely not guys in the immediate vicinity of tiny O'Leary, New York. But then, sexy Navy SEAL Ash Martin walked into Cal's bakery, and made him wonder if fate might have cooked up something sweet for him after all.

Weirdly, people don’t react overly well when you’re caught standing over the dead body of a murderer who’d walked free. It’s not that I thought my fellow homicide detective would rejoice when he saw what I’d done, but is a pat on the back too much to ask for? Maybe a gold star at the very least? The problem is that the person who caught me is Gabriel, the only person I care for and adore… and he’s prepared to look the other way if I leave homicide and promise to never kill again.

I never thought a night out could change everything. All I wanted was to dance, drink, maybe take a cute guy home for a night of fun. I met the guy, but the night ended as a nightmare. Screams and blood and tragedy haunt my dreams. I'm alive and I owe it all to the gorgeous marine who refused to leave me for dead. But how can I start a new relationship when I'm not even sure who I am anymore?

Five years ago, I walked away from Sunbury, Oregon, and left my best friend behind. The move was supposed to get my life on track. I even had a list: Life changing epilepsy surgery. Check. See the world. Check. Get over my straight best friend... Not exactly. No matter where I go or who I meet, I can't let Tanner go. I'm back to tell him how I feel. To get the closure I need once and for all. Only now I'm here and falling for him all over again, it's getting harder to say the words. Because once I have my closure, I'll be gone. And this time it will be for good.

Tyson Langley thinks the king in Franklin University Kings is in reference to him. Star lacrosse player and God’s gift to the female and male population, there’s nothing the spoiled jock can’t have. It’s impossible for us to be in the same room without talking crap to each other. But I also have a secret…as much as I despise Ty, I want him too. I revel in our banter and in never knowing what he’ll say next. I’ve spent too much time on the wrong side of the law for someone like Ty, though, and if I want to escape my past, he’s a distraction I don’t need.

Military life is all I’ve known since I was born. But when a top-secret mission fails, I find myself suddenly discharged with nowhere to go. Mike Bravo saved my life, and they want me to join them, but there’s one small problem. Isaac “Iris” Griffin. He’s as irresistibly snarky as he always was, only there’s a big difference this time. I’m no longer closeted or scared to live my truth. And the truth is, I’ve always wanted him. It’s against Mike Bravo’s rules to fraternize with other team members. But something tells me Iris might be worth the insubordination.

Sam reminds me of the horses we rescue. Scarred, skittish, and…strong. Beautiful. He’s a bit of a hat-stealer, and, truth be told, I’m a little leery of his chosen profession. The things he does in front of a camera...well, it makes me blush just thinkin' about it. But if that scar on his face is any indication, he could use somebody at his back. I aim to be that person. And yeah, some of my parts get confused by the fact that he’s all delicate and sparkly, but that’s not important. Even if the good hand lotion has somehow made it into the tack room.

At 34, veteran catcher Jake just wants to finish out his contract and retire. His team doesn't have a prayer of making the playoffs, but who needs the stress anyway? Jake lost his passion for the game - and life - after driving away the man he loved. He swore he'll never risk his heart again. Then he's traded to a team that wants a vet behind the plate to tame their new star pitcher. Jake is shocked to find the gangly kid he once knew has grown into a gorgeous young man.

Harper Reid has no money and nowhere to go, but he can't spend one more day under the same roof as his abusive boyfriend. Desperate to start fresh, he takes on a special case through the caregiver agency that contracts him. The client has fired everyone else, but this job includes lodging, so Harper will find a way to make it work until he's back on his feet.

Grief. I’ve never battled with the raw, debilitating pain that comes with it. Then a twist of fate hits me out of nowhere, and I can barely keep from drowning. It’s like weights tied to my ankles in the middle of a raging ocean. I’m helpless, with no way to swim back to the surface. But fate is crueler still, bringing my stepbrother back for the first time in years.

Milo. Unusual. Quirky. Different. I’ve heard it all. I’ve accepted I’m not for everyone. When I find out I inherited a bookstore and apartment on a small East Coast island, I jump at the chance for a new life. Turns out I’ve also inherited a sexy, tattooed guy who not only rents the space next to my store but my apartment too. Gideon. I wasn’t looking for a roommate, but it’s not like I can stay at Milo’s place while he’s banished to a hotel. According to Milo, we’re bestie goals. And if he doesn’t wear pants at home, who am I to complain?