The dreamiest player on the Moo U hockey team hangs a flyer on the bulletin board, and I am spellbound: Rent a boyfriend for the holiday. For $25, I will be your Thanksgiving date. I will talk hockey with your dad. I will bring your mother flowers. I will be polite, and wear a nicely ironed shirt.... Now everyone knows it’s a bad idea to introduce your long-time crush to your messed-up family. But I really do need a date for Thanksgiving, even if I’m not willing to say why. 

I met my dream girl. That’s right. She’s stunning and the worst bartender I’ve ever seen. I should have gone home and gone to sleep—dream girl or not. I had an early morning and the season was starting soon. But when she threatened me with boy band karaoke, I couldn't help myself. I went. The stars aligned. I have never felt more alive or wanted anyone more than I want her.

Tristan Stiles is the bane of my existence. He never wears a shirt. We can’t seem to stop fighting. He’s an arrogant playboy with a filthy reputation. Sure, I had a crush on him when I was fourteen but that was a long time ago. I know better than to trust him. I just need to survive long enough to find a new job and get a new place. And not accidentally let Tristan show me exactly how well-deserved his reputation is.

Hosting her brother's wedding for an MVP guest list is the challenge of Jess Canning's life. Already the family screw-up, she can't afford to fail. And nobody (nobody!) can learn of the colossal mistake she made with the best man during a weak moment last spring. It was wrong, and there will not be a repeat. Absolutely not. Even if he is the sexiest thing on two legs.

Knox Holland is in a jam. After an incredible first year on the pro motocross circuit, he should be on top of the world. Instead, his bad reputation has landed him without a team. He's untouchable and desperate to turn it around. Which is how he ends up at my gym asking me to train him. As a college gymnast with two Olympic medals to my name, I know a thing or two about the pressure to succeed. Last season I choked and then injured myself before I could show the world that I'm not a twenty-year-old has-been.

How to behave when the guy who broke your heart 2,000 miles away turns up in your office: One: Don’t drop your lucky coffee cup in shock, even though it’s been 10 years. Two: Don’t get defensive when he asks how you ended up working his family’s ski mountain…and why you kept it a secret. Three: Give him the worst room in the resort. He deserves it for suddenly waltzing back in like he owns the place. (Which he kind of does.)

The furniture district is my personal hell. I don’t know my ass from an ottoman. But when a hot designer comes to my rescue, I realize my problems are bigger than the house I’m trying to furnish.

What I meant to do: quietly divorce my lout of a husband and then have a child all on my own. What happens instead: my crush comes back to town when I’m at my most vulnerable. After too many cocktails, I ask him to be my baby’s father. In my defense, it’s been a rough couple of months. Seeing Matteo Rossi again after 14 years has done a number on my emotions. And my libido. In the morning, I’m hoping he’s forgotten the whole thing. But no such luck. In fact, Matteo has a few clarifying questions. And a few naughty ideas, too....

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.

There are a million reasons why I shouldn’t date Fletcher Huxley. He’s a growly-faced, stubborn-streaked, international rugby legend trying to revive his flailing career in the US after being canned by his team overseas. While he might have the good kind of thunder thighs, intriguing tattoos, and a booty of steel, he also holds the top position on my very short nemesis list thanks to what happened the first time we met.

After my ex crushed my dreams in the music industry, I’m done with getting my heart broken. Working as an assistant for an NHL player was supposed to be a breeze, but nothing about Jamie Streicher is easy. He’s an intimidatingly hot, grouchy jerk who can't stand me. The guy has a massive ego. Keeping things professional will be no problem, even when he demands I move in with him.

From a young age, the only thing in life I've ever taken seriously is hockey. I'm not the guy anyone—besides family and teammates—can count on. This is all true. At least, until a certain curly-haired, blue-eyed goddess comes to me looking for an easy hookup. And hook her up I do. But what's supposed to be a one-night stand doesn't stop at one night. What's meant to be easy sure as hell gets complicated fast. It becomes clear that Addison LaConte is just as much my savior as she is my demise.

The last person Griffin Shipley expects to find stuck in a ditch on his Vermont country road is his ex-hookup. Five years ago, they’d shared a couple of steamy nights together. But that was a lifetime ago. At 27, Griff is now the accidental patriarch of his family farm. Even his enormous shoulders feel the strain of supporting his mother, three siblings, and a dotty grandfather. He doesn’t have time for the sorority girl who’s shown up expecting to buy his harvest at half price.

Secretly hooking up with the team captain's sister was a bad idea. In my defense, the first time I saw her I didn't know who she was. Kind, gorgeous, a little naïve. Ginny brightened my world from day one. I knew I was no good for her. She was just out of a relationship, and I had a reputation for having a new girl in my bed every weekend. I tried to do the right thing. Honest. I'm the one who insisted we should be just friends. That lasted about as long as you'd expect. But Ginny? She's the best - best friend, best everything.

In my defense, I was left alone with a bottle of single-malt and a lifelong penchant for protecting my baby sister. Still, that's no excuse to send 10 drunk-texts on why her hasty marriage would be a mistake. If only I had just texted my sister. But nope. I accidentally sent the message to her, her groom, and his super hot wingman. I also used the phrase “super hot wingman”, so I’d like to die now.