Nick Johnson, a top prospect for a pro hockey team, has a secret: He’s gay. Tired of living in the closet for the sport he loves, he sees no way out. Jacob Meyer’s string of bad boyfriends left him cynical about love. Instead, he focuses on his studies as a third-year law student. With a new job waiting for him, he’s eager to graduate and move on. On a school-sponsored trip, Nick and Jacob meet in a most unexpected way. When Nick tells Jacob his secret, they decide to hang out, just as friends. But their attraction is too strong to ignore, and they soon begin dating.

I’m done hiding who I am. Pretending to be straight, to be the loving, devoted husband and successful ER doctor everyone wanted me to be, has been exhausting. I numbed the pain any way I could, and in the end, it cost me everything. My job, my marriage, the relationship with my grown kids. But now I’m in recovery, and for the first time, I’m living my true life as an out gay man.

When the Rangers get the call about six bodies being pulled out of a mass grave in West Texas, the governor sends Dakota to run the investigation. Dakota heads back to his hometown and comes face-to-face with the last man he ever expected to see again, only now, he’s Deputy Shane Carson, Dakota's local partner assigned to the case. There's nothing Dakota wants more than a second chance with Shane, but so much is stacked against them: six corpses, a murderer on the loose, and history that refuses to stay buried.

Austin Romero: No one's fast enough to outrun grief. Trust me, I've tried. I ran away from the city and took a job as the lead detective back in my old home town of Blue Creek, New Hampshire. I expected to bump into past ghosts, but I never expected those ghosts to reopen old wounds. The biggest ghost of them all: Charlie Marsh. He was the man who had stolen my heart when we were teens, and who now couldn't even remember a single day we had spent together. Which makes it exceptionally awkward when he becomes my first client.

Payne. In search of: Room to rent. Must ignore the patheticness of a 40-year-old roommate. Preferably dirt cheap as funds are tight (nonexistent). There’s nothing sadder than moving back to my hometown newly divorced, homeless, and lost for what my next move is. When my little brother’s best friend offers me a place to stay in exchange for menial duties, I swallow my pride and jump at the offer. I need this. I also need Beau to wear a shirt. And ditch the gray sweatpants. And not leave his door ajar when he’s in compromising positions...