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.

After years of working my butt off, I'm finally living the life I always wanted. I have a job I love, friends who've become family, and I'm enjoying the freedom of being single. Then Sebastian, my childhood rival, moves back to town, and my perfect life is thrown into chaos. We've always hated each other, but now there's something else between us. Something wild and primal. Something that wants to make Sebastian submit as much as it wants to claim him.

Sometimes I want to punch that smirk off Atlas McCallister's pretty face. He's cocky. A troublemaker. A pain. And, unfortunately, my stepbrother. We've been fire and kerosene since our parents got together, and to keep from exploding into fistfights, we've used challenges, dares, and bets to battle out our differences. Our past bets have been a little inappropriate—scandalous, even—but Atlas's latest bet has gone too far. Do I really believe if he loses, my straight stepbrother is gonna mess around with a guy? And not just any guy: me, his rival and nemesis?

Being traded to the Seattle Vipers has left me with mixed feelings. On the one hand, they’re my team, the team I’ve loved and supported since I was a kid, but on the other hand, he’s here. Him. Ant Decker. Infamous NHL bad boy. Right wing to my left. A man who’s made it his sole purpose in life to be better than me.

Buying a house was supposed to be a good investment. Too bad I bit off more than I can chew. Between my job at the bank and my utter lack of home improvement skills, I’m in way over my head. Then a friend suggests I hire a handyman. Enter Tyler. Tyler is down on his luck after a recent divorce, and we strike a deal that he fixes my house while I give him room and board as part of his pay. He’s the perfect roommate, amazing at his job, and he quickly becomes one of my closest friends. But there’s something there, something I’ve never felt for another man before.

Who are we? Nobody really knows. We’re seven powerful heirs to empires, ruling Manhattan from our thrones on Park Avenue. By day, we’re the elite, untouchable, and more connected than you could ever imagine. By night, we revel in the darkness of our secrets, pulling strings that make the city bow to our whims.

The Firm has ruled St. Dismas for generations. To most, they’re just a myth. But in truth, they are the last resort of the desperate. I never understood why anyone would go to The Firm. There’s always a price to pay—a price you won’t discover until your request has been granted. It was a path I swore I’d never walk. Or so I thought. When my brother is gravely injured, everything changes. I have no choice but to go to The Firm. I don’t know what they’ll ask of me, but I’ll give anything to save Jackson. He has his whole life ahead of him, and I’ll make sure he gets to live it.

Being invited to my cousin’s wedding really shouldn’t be a big deal except, oh yeah, I haven't seen my family for a decade. My parents turned their backs on me, and I’ve done everything since to become successful and show them what they've lost. Only it’s kinda hard to be a success when you’re a walking trainwreck.

It's official: my step bro is the biggest himbo ever to himbo. He's a massive blond beefcake with a soft heart and an over-eager smile. The mere sight of him incites a shaking hot rage in me. He's everywhere. He's around me all the time. So sweet and gentle that it makes me feel wild. I see him and smell him everywhere. When I can't see him or smell him, I hear him. The wall between our bedrooms is paper thin. I can't help it—I hear what he does in his room when he thinks he's alone. I hear everything.

Being a lifelong Chicago Thunder fan, I know that Blaine Olsen is trouble. Because all hockey players are. He's a notorious playboy, and I refuse to be another notch on his bedpost. But when he shows me the part of himself he keeps hidden, it gets harder to resist him.

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...

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.

Proposing to my first boyfriend at a hockey game wasn’t my smartest move. Not only does said boyfriend walk out on me, but the whole stupid thing goes viral, and it turns out the man I was dating has too many boyfriends to count. Internet fame has crowned me a member of the Jilted Exes’ Club, a name I’d do anything to escape. One thing’s for sure: I’m not making the same mistake again. No more boyfriends, just easy hookups. And I’ll start with this gorgeous catch in Seattle. The only problem…he’s a god in bed, and I’m an inexperienced mess.

The thing about guys is that we communicate on a physical, primal level. A hearty slap on the backside just means “good game, bro”. Some good old fashioned roughhousing just means we’re comfortable with each other. Some late night stress relief? Just dudes being dudes… Right? We’re just friends. Just roommates. Just a couple of guys doing what guys do. So what if I can’t stop thinking about kissing him? Is there a way I can “no homo” my way out of this? If I'm really honest with myself, I don't think I even want to. So… maybe YES, homo?

My new teammate pisses me off. Everyone else is falling over themselves when Golden Boy flashes a fake smile. Me? I just want to wipe it off his face. Off the ice, there's no escaping Nick Sandoval's dimples and plastic grin—because he's my new roommate. And on the ice? We need to get our act together, or else our final year of college hockey's going to waste. I can't ignore him, and I won't put up with that bullshit front he puts up for everyone. Especially when I push his buttons just right and get a glimpse at something no one else has seen—the real Nick Sandoval.