Harrison Phillip Fletcher III isn't supposed to be here. Not in Burlington, Vermont, not running Vino & Veritas, a quaint inclusive bookstore and wine bar, and definitely not still alive, at 42. Also not supposed to be here? An unexpected delivery of chickens. Finn Barnes knows chickens. The burly organic farmer knows all about rare breed poultry, but dealing with a hot older bookseller is an entirely different matter. City-slicker types like Harrison never end up staying in Vermont for the long-term. They should steer clear of each other. But the flare of attraction is mutual.

Life doesn’t always pan out as you expect. When it explodes in my face, literally, an old friend offers me a place to heal and a job renovating the kitchen of Burlington’s coolest wine bar. V&V is a chill fest. Living above it should be a blast. But I’m not built to be a social butterfly. Not anymore. I’m a damaged man. And I’m not its target clientele. At least, I think I’m not until I come face-to-face with the most beautiful human I’ve ever seen.

I’ve had a crush on my brother’s best friend since the moment I laid eyes on him four years ago. Warner Ramsey is 225 pounds of pure hotness, a media darling, and one of the best NFL quarterbacks in the league. Hell, he’s the reason I figured out I’m solidly bi. It was easy to keep my crush under control when I was in college. Now, we play for the same team, and every time he talks smack, I want to shut him up. With my mouth.

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.

I’m a man with too many secrets, so the last thing I need is a new roommate with a sexy smile and blue eyes that see right through me. Eight years ago, Roderick left town after high school. We’re not friends. I owe him nothing. But back then, I let one of my secrets slip, and he’s the only one who noticed. Part of me knows I should run far, far away. But the other part wants him to come upstairs and spend the night. But if I let him in, I could lose everything.

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.

Egon Wolf is on a hockey scholarship but failing at everything else. Knowing he's going to lose his ride if he doesn't get his academic act together, he seeks out a tutor. Rakesh Aahnu is a dual major and dangerous when bored. What he enjoys more than anything is the challenge of making straight men fall for him before walking away. Just because he can. Both Egon and Rakesh are about to discover that life has a way of throwing you in the sin bin when you least expect it.

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.

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.