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.

Best-selling authors Sarina Bowen & Elle Kennedy return with their first Male/Male romance in 3 years. LobsterShorts, 21. Jock. Secretly a science geek. Hot AF. SinnerThree, 21. Finance major. Secretly a male dancer. Hot AF. LobsterShorts: So. Here goes. For her birthday, my girlfriend wants…a threesome. SinnerThree: Then you’ve come to the right hookup app. LobsterShorts: Have you done this sort of thing before? With another guy? SinnerThree: All the time. I’m an equal opportunity player. You? LobsterShorts: [crickets!]

In my defense, I was left alone with a bottle of single-malt and a lifelong penchant for protecting my baby sister. Still, that's no excuse to send 10 drunk-texts on why her hasty marriage would be a mistake. If only I had just texted my sister. But nope. I accidentally sent the message to her, her groom, and his super hot wingman. I also used the phrase “super hot wingman”, so I’d like to die now.

I caught the attention of a savage beast. My fault–ish after I crashed into Crestwood hockey team's star defenseman on my way to class. In typical Eli Holmes fashion, instead of walking away after he threw my books across the hall, I stood up to Alexei Petrov. Even sat right next to him in class, letting him know exactly what I thought of his brutish behavior. Someone should’ve reminded me not to go around poking monsters. But I’m not one to cower. Until a heated encounter leads to a steamy kiss.

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.

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.

As a pro athlete, I have one unbreakable rule when it comes to men—Don't date another baseball player. Good thing I haven't been tempted once in four years in the majors. Until the day a rising star walks into my locker room. Outgoing and sexy-as-sin, Grant has confidence and talent for miles. But, I've got far too much trouble in my past to want to bring any into my present.

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.

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.

Ever hear the story about the bodyguard who falls for the rock star? Yeah, it never ends well. Each day I remind myself that it's my job to protect Stone. And nowhere in the job description does it say I should lust after the charismatic, charming man. Especially since we're opposites. But every night I spend with him the dangerous, off-limits attraction grows more intense. Until one night in a limo when we combust.

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.

Once upon a time, the sexy, witty Brit was just that hot guy I met my first day in London. Then, it turned out we were sharing a flat. But living that close to the most charming man I’d ever met was one step away from falling in love with him. Newsflash–I fell. Hard and fast into a swoony, epic romance that felt like something out of a movie...

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.

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.

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.