Duty, honor, and sacrifice. Dedicating my life to these elements, for family and country, leaves little for myself in return. It's why I indulge in a no-strings hookup with a handsome stranger mere days before heading half-a-world away. Except one night turns into a week-long fling, creating a connection at the most inopportune time. And neither of us want it to end. Staying in touch is easy at first, but dwindles to radio silence and distant memories as time passes.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

Conor: It starts with a drunken text pic. The kind I would normally never send. Only, instead of it going to the flirty hotel bartender, it goes to some random stranger who actually responds. Wells: The first thing I notice about Conor Newell when he sits down in my high-rise conference room is how delightfully nervous he is. Then I see his tie. The same geeky tie that’s held hostage on my phone. The one that belongs to my anonymous late-night texter. And it changes everything.

You think you know me. That's the way I want it. Making you feel like we know each other - like we could go grab a beer sometime - is part of my job. Maybe the most vital part. It doesn't hurt that I'm easy on the eyes, single at 35, and born richer than sin. My aesthetic matters much more than it should, but all the better for my worthy cause. And it's a worthy cause. I've made an art out of making you feel good, and my influence makes you want to be good. Good like me. You think you know me, but you don't. Everyone has secrets. Mine could cost me everything.

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.

He promised to never leave me. But when I needed him the most, that was exactly what he did. Wilderness guide Xander Reed has spent fifteen years trying to forget the night he turned to his best friend in his darkest hour, only to find the young man who'd sworn to always have his back was turning his on Xander instead. Two thousand miles and fifteen years of building a new life in the quiet backcountry of the Rocky Mountains should have been enough to put the memory of Bennett Crawford out of his mind.

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.

I left my family and tiny Texas hometown 15 years ago to escape small-town gossips and to give my mom and sister the chance at a better life. But when a phone call from an attorney back home informs me that my sister passed away, leaving me custody of her newborn baby, I'm shocked out of the steady life I've built for myself running a tattoo shop in San Francisco. The thing is: I don't do babies. And I don't do small towns. Or commitment. And I especially don't do family.

There wasn’t a time when I didn't know Flynn “Firecracker” Honeycutt. He’s been my childhood friend. My high school rival. The guy I couldn’t stop dreaming about, long after I thought I’d left him and Honeybridge in my rear-view mirror.