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.

I have to stop replaying the one night I spent with my rival. Trouble is, that white-hot encounter with the other quarterback answered a lot of questions I’ve had about myself, but it also led me into this mess where he hates me. I never showed up for our second date. Since, well, life happened, and the worst part is he’ll never know how much that night meant to me.

Nothing in my life is really mine. I take care of my mama, work three jobs, I’m there when anyone needs me. Something about the beautiful, lonely man on my mail route interests me. He’s different in my world, where everything’s the same. I think he hates me, but that doesn’t stop me from hand-delivering every package and trying to find ways to make him smile. Then Emerson makes me an offer: He’ll pay me to spend the weekends with him, losing ourselves in each other’s bodies, no feelings or pasts involved.

When I left home, I swore I'd never hide anything about myself again. From college, to law school, to the United States Senate representing California, I've done it all as an out gay man. So, when I'm in DC and see a beautiful guy at the hotel bar, I don't hesitate to proposition him...right before he runs out on me, leaving his sunglasses behind like my very own Cinderfella. 

Buying a house was supposed to be a good investment. Too bad I bit off more than I can chew. Between my job at the bank and my utter lack of home improvement skills, I’m in way over my head. Then a friend suggests I hire a handyman. Enter Tyler. Tyler is down on his luck after a recent divorce, and we strike a deal that he fixes my house while I give him room and board as part of his pay. He’s the perfect roommate, amazing at his job, and he quickly becomes one of my closest friends. But there’s something there, something I’ve never felt for another man before.

Kyran Harbor is everything I'm not. Rich. Popular. A superstar football player who's awfully broody for someone who has it all. Basically, he's a preppy jock who hates me. Oh, and he's also my stepbrother. That's right. We're stuck together, sharing a school, a house, a bathroom. Honestly I wouldn't care if he wasn't such an uptight control freak who messes with me just because we're different. I had every intention of avoiding him when we got to college. Until abrupt misfortune forces us both into a compromising position.

Everett: There are a ton of reasons why falling for my tiny, adorkable best friend is a terrible idea - starting with the body in my trunk. I have other reasons - he still mourns his late husband. I’m way older, he’s a foot shorter, my tattoo shop is a front, he’s an assistant professor at UT. Still, I can’t help but think we’d be perfect for each other if I didn’t kill people (very, very bad people) for a living.

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.

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.

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...

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?

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.

At 12, he was my best friend. At 16, he became my crush. And now, at 34, he’s the man I’m still pining after. Falling in love with Easton was never part of the plan. But now that I’ve done it, I can’t seem to stop. It doesn’t help that we’re living under the same roof. Or that Easton is so dang sweet I want to lick him from head to toe.

Hating Justin Jennings should be a lot easier than this. He nearly ruined my life, and I swore when I left town that I’d become the opposite of him in every possible way. I’ve kept that promise, traveling the world to save the people who cannot save themselves. The lost, the trafficked, the stolen. This work is my life’s mission, and now my father has given me the land to expand my operations.

Look, when I met the sexy, witty Brit on the streets of London last night, I had no idea who he was. He was just that hot guy I wanted to have a drink with, so I asked him out for my first evening in town. One thing almost led to another. After a midnight kiss, we made plans for a whole lot more the next day. But when I unlock the door to my rental in the morning, the English hottie is lounging on the couch like he lives here too. Great. For the next year, I’ll be sharing a tiny flat with the sexiest guy I’ve ever known.