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.

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.

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.

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.

When I left Birchbark angry and heartbroken, I vowed never to return. Fate had other plans. The father I hate had a stroke, so now I'm back in the Upper Peninsula to take care of him. The locals treat Dad like royalty, while Dad vacillates between open anger and flat-out ignoring me. Throw in my messy relationship with my brothers, and being in Birchbark becomes unbearable.

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.

There's no one worse for me to want in my bed than Jake Tully. He's hot and grumpy and literally a terrible idea. Terrible. Worse, no one has ever made me feel the way he does—valued. But here I am, thinking about him again. Falling for my sponsor is not my worst idea yet, but it's damn close.

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.

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.

There’s a lot I’ve never told my best friend. The fact that I love him. That I miss him every day he’s gone. That, sometimes, I ache for him with a ferocity that leaves me breathless. Lucky Buchanan tore into my life as a boy, wild and daring, my opposite in every way. He drew me in, stole my heart without trying. He hears me, even though I rarely speak a word. But I always knew this place wouldn’t be enough for my free-spirited friend. I knew he wasn’t mine to keep.

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.

Adam Mulvaney lives a double life. By day, he’s the spoiled youngest son of an eccentric billionaire. By night, he’s an unrepentant killer, one of seven psychopaths raised to right the wrongs of a justice system that keeps failing. Noah Holt has spent years dreaming of vengeance for the death of his father, but when faced with his killer, he learns a daunting truth he can’t escape. His father was a monster.

As a divorced man in my thirties with a throwaway job and very few friends, I admit that I've made a lot of bad decisions over the years. Rounding out the top of that epic list was allowing my son's best friend, Quinn, to talk me into taking him on a two-week summer road trip... alone. What was supposed to be quality father-son bonding time before Joshua went off to college has somehow transpired into a battle of wills between me and his nineteen-year-old best friend. Quinn may be young, but he genuinely seems to enjoy spending time with me, something I've never experienced before.

Jamie Canning has never been able to figure out how he lost his closest friend. Four years ago, his tattooed, wisecracking, rule-breaking roommate cut him off without an explanation. So what if things got a little weird on the last night of hockey camp the summer they were 18? It was just a little drunken foolishness. Nobody died.

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.