I had my person I was supposed to grow old with, but he double broke my heart when he forced me to choose between marrying him or hockey. I chose hockey and if I’m choosing hockey, I’m doing it all the way and leaving love out of the equation. Sounds like a great plan until I show up to hockey practice and realize the guy I fell into bed with is actually my new coach.

Oakley Farrow is your typical high school senior. He stays up late, cramming for finals. He has impossible deadlines to meet. He worries about his future as graduation lurks just around the corner. He has to defend himself from his abusive uncle. He has to keep his sister safe. He has to survive the constant torture from his bully, Asher Brooks—the seemingly arrogant and cruel star quarterback. Okay… so maybe not your typical high school senior.

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.

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.

He makes me lose all control. Ex-Special Forces and current CEO of Sinro Enterprises, I sacrifice my personal life and health to lead mercenary teams dedicated to wiping out high-profile criminals. My working hours are endless. My schedule is rigid. I leave no room for normal things like relationships. Until a pretty little thief breaks into my high-rise and shatters what I'd come to believe was peace. I find myself hesitating to pull the trigger for the first time.

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.

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.

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.

My loser high school friend never deserved him anyway. If I’d had the chance, I would have locked Remy down years ago. Only, when the party leads to a drunken kiss, going on their honeymoon, and sharing their marital bed, I have to say, I’m not entirely sad that their wedding went up in flames.

Caspien Deveraux was poison. It took me years to realise that he hadn't been born like that. He'd been cultivated and nurtured by a careful hand and a bitter heart. When I first met him, he was a bud. One primed to bloom beautifully and deadly. One I should have torn out at the root.

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 hit man has its perks, but I never thought getting an accidental mooning by an attractive PI while he’s caught on a fence would be one of them. While it’s not exactly love at first sight, he’s captured my interest and won’t let go. Suddenly, I find myself caught in a game of cat and mouse, determined to attract the attention of Jackson, the PI who should be my enemy. He pretends like he’s not flattered by my flowers and the mentions of my totally-not-fictitious blow-up doll, Randy (or was it Dandy?), but I know better.

I’m in love with my best friend. Lie. I’m in love with my enemy. Truth. But they’re the same. They. Are. The. Same. Lines in my world are blurry between fantasy and reality. Truth and lies. Love and hate. Copeland Justice is my enemy. My once best friend. The sadist in my heart plucking and pulling at every thread of who I am until I’m unraveled at his feet. His mouth says he hates me. His eyes burn with animosity for me. His heart beats for someone else. But Copeland Justice is the best liar of us all.

Charles Preston Carmichael is the most infuriating man I've ever met. I want to sock the golden boy of college hockey right in the mouth. He enjoys telling me everything I'm messing up—publicly. And since he's my roommate for the next year, I can't avoid him. Yet there's something about him that makes me watch him. Something dark. A secret I want to uncover. When he returns from a weekend away, broken and haunted, I can't keep my distance anymore. He needs someone, and I'll be damned if it's not me.

There's no one worse for me to want in my bed than Jake Tully. He's hot and grumpy and literally a terrible idea. Terrible. Worse, no one has ever made me feel the way he does—valued. But here I am, thinking about him again. Falling for my sponsor is not my worst idea yet, but it's damn close.