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.

I'm the rebel, the bad one. I follow no rules on the track or anywhere else. I'm the obnoxious bad boy the fans secretly root for. I don't mind playing my role. I'm good at it, and it pays to be the dark to his light. Until the good boy starts to get to me. I'm confused and unsure of what I want, when it was all so clear before. They say good always wins, but is that truly the case? In the race between the far-too-pretty good boy and the angry bad boy, who will actually win?

There wasn’t a time when I didn't know Flynn “Firecracker” Honeycutt. He’s been my childhood friend. My high school rival. The guy I couldn’t stop dreaming about, long after I thought I’d left him and Honeybridge in my rear-view mirror.

I was intrigued by Crow at first glance. Who wouldn't be? He's a mountain of a man, who was raised in a cult, and now lives secluded in the wilderness. But the draw I feel to him goes beyond mild interest. When his intense gaze falls my way it feels like he can see into my soul, to my deepest yearnings and desires. I took a bold chance venturing to his mountain uninvited. But I can't help myself. Despite Crow’s dangerous facade, I feel at home when I’m near him. I've never felt wanted or needed… until the mountain man took me in his arms.

Sometimes I want to punch that smirk off Atlas McCallister's pretty face. He's cocky. A troublemaker. A pain. And, unfortunately, my stepbrother. We've been fire and kerosene since our parents got together, and to keep from exploding into fistfights, we've used challenges, dares, and bets to battle out our differences. Our past bets have been a little inappropriate—scandalous, even—but Atlas's latest bet has gone too far. Do I really believe if he loses, my straight stepbrother is gonna mess around with a guy? And not just any guy: me, his rival and nemesis?

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...

Max has been in love with his childhood best friend, Ash, for years. The reason he has kept it a secret is because Ash also happens to be Max's brother's ex-boyfriend. Complicated doesn't begin to explain their relationship.

I like to party; to have a good time. Life’s too short not to. I learned that when I lost my grandpa. He told me to have fun while I can, and I intend to. Though sometimes when you’re having a good time, you forget others may see you as irresponsible. And sometimes you screw up. I’ve definitely screwed up a time or two, but I’m still determined to have fun. I’m hoping I’ll convince my best friend, Camden, to do the same along the way. He’s too serious. Too focused. Too busy taking care of everyone to just relax. And that’s where I come in.

Of all the people who could have seen me when I was at my most vulnerable, it had to be him. Caleb. My stepbrother and the golden child of our messed up blended family. We barely know each other, but for some reason, he takes care of me when an incident at the club leaves me helpless and alone. He hates me as much as I hate him, but something about his bossy attitude and unflappable calm soothes me. I don't want to want him, but no one has ever made me feel the way he does.

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.

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 caught the attention of a monster. I didn’t ask for it. Didn’t even see it coming. But the moment I do, it’s too late. Killian Carson is a predator wrapped in sophisticated charm. He’s cold-blooded, manipulative, and savage. The worst part is that no one sees his devil side. I do. And that will cost me everything. I run, but the thing about monsters? They always chase.

I’ve never been great at letting people in. Life is easier if I bury my feelings. People tend to let you down, which is only proven when my best friend, Rex, accidentally kills a man and lets me take the fall. When I get out of prison, the last thing I want is to go back to Clayton, Oregon, but it’s where my grandma lives, the only person who’s always had my back. My plan is to stay out of trouble, steer clear of my old crew, save up, and the second we can, leave town for good.

My path to success never included an enemy as a teammate, especially one as infuriating as Quinton de Haas. Clawing under my skin is his favorite pastime, only feeding the animosity between us as the years pass. We’re as completely opposite as two people can be; the golden boy and the black sheep. Constantly at odds or at each other’s throats. The only thing we can agree on is hockey is our true love, and we’ll do whatever it takes to come out on top. I never imagined that drive would lead me to do the unthinkable: falling into bed with my not-so-straight rival.

I’m never one to turn down a bet. Especially not when it comes to retaliating against the dean for pulling a dick move before summer break. So when the dean’s golden child arrives at Astor for his freshman year, my fellow troublemakers throw down a wager I can’t resist. The target: the dean’s son, John Thomas Hawthorne, or “JT”. The bet: corruption in any way I choose. It should’ve been easy. With his mess of brown curls, pouty lips, and good-boy reputation, JT is the perfect revenge. And even better? He’s straight.