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.

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.

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.

Military life is all I’ve known since I was born. But when a top-secret mission fails, I find myself suddenly discharged with nowhere to go. Mike Bravo saved my life, and they want me to join them, but there’s one small problem. Isaac “Iris” Griffin. He’s as irresistibly snarky as he always was, only there’s a big difference this time. I’m no longer closeted or scared to live my truth. And the truth is, I’ve always wanted him. It’s against Mike Bravo’s rules to fraternize with other team members. But something tells me Iris might be worth the insubordination.

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?

I’m a rookie, in every sense of the word. But even though I have a wicked crush on the sexy shortstop on my baseball team, I won’t give in to my fantasies about him. I’m here in the majors for the first time to play ball. Not to experience my first time with a man. Trouble is, Declan Steele is sexy, flirty, and now he’s my new workout partner. We’re spending mornings together in the gym, getting to know each other. Our connection is powerful—maybe because we each have our fair share of secrets and scars. Ones we'll both fight to protect.

Ever hear the story about the bodyguard who falls for the rock star? Yeah, it never ends well. Each day I remind myself that it's my job to protect Stone. And nowhere in the job description does it say I should lust after the charismatic, charming man. Especially since we're opposites. But every night I spend with him the dangerous, off-limits attraction grows more intense. Until one night in a limo when we combust.

Every bartender should follow one simple rule—don't go home with the customers. That’s been easy for me to stick to, until the night a cocky, confident, and sinfully charming hockey star walks into my bar. This sexy athlete is too hard to resist, especially when he makes it clear how much he wants the “sarcastic, witty, hot AF” guy behind the bar—also known as me.

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.

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.

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.

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.

If I've said it once, I've said it a thousand times. Friends don't bang friends. I want my friends to stay in my life, especially that flirty, clever, outgoing best friend of mine. It's a darn good thing Owen and I made a pact in college to never ever sleep together, or else I'd be tempted. Trouble is, eight years later, I've been wondering what his kisses taste like. And I've been curious if our chemistry would extend into the bedroom. If he might feel the same risky pull. But I don't want to lose Owen.

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.

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.