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.

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.

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.

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?

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.

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?

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.

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.

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.

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.

After spending his formative years in an abusive home, NICHOLAS WEBSTER has made a pretty good life for himself. He has friends, a lucrative job with Elite Protection Services, and a side gig that lets him help out those escaping the same abusive home situation he left behind. But no matter how many people he helps, he can’t escape the guilt over the one person he didn’t—his step-brother, Cyrus.

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.

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’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.

After spending the last 200 years locked up in the family castle with his three younger brothers, Erwan is climbing the walls. Literally. He’s a dragon who isn’t allowed to fly, forbidden to use his magic, all to stay hidden from the rest of the world. How will he ever find his mate like this? But when he finds an injured omega in the woods around the castle and brings him home, the spell that kept them hidden is broken. Erwan’s father is furious—not that that’s anything new. The man has basically been angry all Erwan’s life, though why, he doesn’t know.

College professor Hagen St. Croix is done with his life as a Dom since his two previous boys left him. When his former club organizes an event, he wants to go...but not alone. He finds a date-for-hire through the Valentine's Inc., app, but he's shocked when his date turns out to be his sexy student Baxter Lafelle, and even more shocked by the feelings Baxter evokes in him.

Cornell is broken after losing his best friend Jonas and getting hurt himself. He’s too old, too imperfect to ever attract a Dom again. Until Rhys. When Rhys gives him commands, Cornell yearns to obey. When Rhys takes care of him, Cornell wants to kneel for him. When Rhys is everything he’s dreamed of, Cornell aches to call him Sir. And when Rhys makes him fly, Cornell soars higher than ever before. But there’s one problem. Rhys is 20 years old and is a junior...and he’s Jonas’s son. How can you want to call your best friend’s son "Sir"...or "Daddy"?

I should never have approached Remington's car. I knew he was dangerous, but he needed help, and I was sure he could pay well for it. When he offers me an astronomical sum to stay with him for two weeks, I can't say no. Even then, I know when our time is up, I'll wish we had forever. Remington cares for me like no man ever has, and I can’t help falling for him. But how could a crime boss be my Prince Charming or give me the fairytale happily-ever-after I’ve always dreamed of?

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.

I thought I had one chance to kiss him, and I blew it. We were 16, and I was an idiot. But now, here he is, standing right in front of me, looking at me with that same expression of awe and adoration that I never lost my addiction to.

Accepting my career in the Army is over after losing my leg is hard. But the obnoxious, good looking, glass-half-full surfer in my physical therapy sessions is worse. And god help him if he doesn’t stop trying to give me advice. Living in a home with three of my closest veteran buddies is a challenge as we all have our crosses to bear and wounds to heal from, but mine only seem to be getting deeper with every step forward I take. I already have to adjust to a new life as a civilian. I don’t need a sexuality crisis to go with it.

I’m in control of my life. That has become Burke’s mantra. He lost control somewhere along the way, descending into a downward spiral until he hit rock bottom. Now he’s back, sober, and determined to never be in that position again. Ever. That’s why he loves being a dominant. He’s in charge. He can plan everything into detail. He’s in control. Until he runs into Wander, a private security guy who volunteers to become Burke’s mentor in the club.

Years of pining. Years of keeping his distance. Years of lusting after Jaren, the one man Reid couldn’t have. Because Jaren is straight. Worse, he’s engaged to Reid’s sister. In other words: He’s off limits. Impossible. But a day before the wedding, she calls it off, leaving Jaren with nowhere to go. So what’s a man to do? Well, offer Jaren a place to stay, of course. A shoulder to cry on. A bed to sleep in. And maybe someone to share that bed with?

Five years ago, Levar survived a terrorist attack. The bombing left its scars, but he’s picked up his life. He loves working for the vice president - who is openly bisexual - as his press secretary. Levar can’t afford a pesky attraction that proves to be frustratingly stubborn. Worse, those highly combustible sparks are with the very last person he should be falling for: Henley Platt, a well-known reporter covering the White House.

I thought there was only one thing I needed to make me happy. I was so sure becoming a rock star would heal the dark corners inside me. But every time I walk onto the stage, with a roaring crowd screaming my name, all I can think about is the boy I left behind. All I want to do is rewind and make a different choice.

I’m such a cliché. Rich, successful… and bored out of my mind. A classic case of a midlife crisis probably, but instead of buying an expensive sports car, I go on a long business trip to Australia. Alone. I haven’t trusted myself to be with anyone since my best friend betrayed me, leaving me bleeding and heartbroken. Until a gorgeous surfer dude named Ocean falls into my lap. Literally. He’s unlike anyone I’ve ever met. Bossy, carefree, and somehow, he reads me like an open book. I agree to him staying with me in Melbourne so we can have a fling. With me in charge, obviously.

What happens when drunken idiots, aka your friends, use a silly drinking game to sideswipe you and your BFF with the truth bomb that you're actually in love with each other? Truman: You impulsively kiss the best friend you've been in love with for ages . . . then wake up with a hangover—and regrets. Lyle: You freak out because you're not gay or bi, before realizing the kiss wasn't *actually* bad. Then you begin to wonder . . . should we do it again?

I’m done hiding who I am. Pretending to be straight, to be the loving, devoted husband and successful ER doctor everyone wanted me to be, has been exhausting. I numbed the pain any way I could, and in the end, it cost me everything. My job, my marriage, the relationship with my grown kids. But now I’m in recovery, and for the first time, I’m living my true life as an out gay man.