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’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.

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.

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. 

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?

The memory of Josiah DeMille has haunted me for close to a decade. The way he looked. The way he smelled. The way his lips felt pressed against mine, even when they shouldn't have been. The one person I've never been able to get over. The one singular part of my past I've never been able to move on from. In every lyric sung into the microphone, in every chord strummed on the guitar, in the bottom of every single whiskey bottle, he's there. His memory has me in a chokehold. His absence a gaping hole in my chest. I gave up years ago, wondering if I'd ever stop thinking about him.

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.

Harley: What happens when the most successful boy band on the planet breaks up? How about 20,000 fans screaming my name. But the price of fame comes with an increased risk to my safety. I've been avoiding the dreaded B word for as long as I can, but after a close call with a rambunctious fan, I can't do it anymore. It's time to give in. I need to hire a full-time bodyguard. And when he shows up, he not only screams badass, he's another B word I try to stay away from: boyfriend material.

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.

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.

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.

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….

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.

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.

I hate Valentine Tye. I’ve hated him since we were ten years old. I hate everything he is, everything he stands for. Even the mention of his name gets my back up. And when I see him? My blood boils. My jaw clenches and my hands curl into fists. That’s how much I hate him. I want to cause him pain. I want to hold him down and actually hurt him. And if that’s not bad enough, that’s exactly what he wants me to do to him.