Straight guys don’t have crushes on other dudes, right? Except my roommate, Whit, is intriguing, and I find myself watching him constantly. He’s a mystery I can’t figure out and these feelings I’m having about him are confusing. Then, one night, I find myself wrapped around him, and after that, I can't get enough. But Whit has secrets. He doesn’t let people in, and the more I fall for him, the less I know. I can't let him go, though. Until I realize I’m going to be the one broken at the end of our story.

After years of drowning myself in parties, hookups, and pain, all it takes is one viral sex tape to be given a choice: Hide out on an island or lose my trust fund. Having to share a room with the one man I let hurt me is my worst nightmare. I’m the broken shell of the boy he walked away from on the worst day of my life. I hate him almost as much as I hate myself.

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.

Charles Preston Carmichael is the most infuriating man I've ever met. I want to sock the golden boy of college hockey right in the mouth. He enjoys telling me everything I'm messing up—publicly. And since he's my roommate for the next year, I can't avoid him. Yet there's something about him that makes me watch him. Something dark. A secret I want to uncover. When he returns from a weekend away, broken and haunted, I can't keep my distance anymore. He needs someone, and I'll be damned if it's not me.

Reed Ellis is absolutely gorgeous but a total newbie to camming, a virtual nobody in my world. I should have just deleted his message request for a steamy on-camera collaboration. Not everyone is cut out to be a camboy. But there's just something about him I couldn't resist. He's timid and inexperienced, quiet and closed off, but his fumbling first times play out scorching hot for the cameras, and our videos together are an instant success. I know I should just ride this out, sit back and watch the money roll in, and then move on.