Kind, caring, and protective. Those are the three qualities I’m looking for when it comes to my dream man. In a city as big as Chicago, you wouldn’t think he would be that hard to find, right? Wrong. Sure, my boss found a super-sexy detective and my best friend fell madly in love with the most eligible bachelor around. But the only person I’ve met recently is a broody bad boy who saved me at a sketchy pub. He’s grumpy, rude, and honestly, not that likeable at all. Hardly my “dream” guy. So why can’t I stop thinking about him?

Look, when I met the sexy, witty Brit on the streets of London last night, I had no idea who he was. He was just that hot guy I wanted to have a drink with, so I asked him out for my first evening in town. One thing almost led to another. After a midnight kiss, we made plans for a whole lot more the next day. But when I unlock the door to my rental in the morning, the English hottie is lounging on the couch like he lives here too. Great. For the next year, I’ll be sharing a tiny flat with the sexiest guy I’ve ever known.

I’ve had a crush on my brother’s best friend since the moment I laid eyes on him four years ago. Warner Ramsey is 225 pounds of pure hotness, a media darling, and one of the best NFL quarterbacks in the league. Hell, he’s the reason I figured out I’m solidly bi. It was easy to keep my crush under control when I was in college. Now, we play for the same team, and every time he talks smack, I want to shut him up. With my mouth.

I have to stop replaying the one night I spent with my rival. Trouble is, that white-hot encounter with the other quarterback answered a lot of questions I’ve had about myself, but it also led me into this mess where he hates me. I never showed up for our second date. Since, well, life happened, and the worst part is he’ll never know how much that night meant to me.

When I showed up at my roommate's work party, the last thing I expected was to find a man straight out of my dreams. But when the crowd parted and the fates aligned, there he was, waiting for me. Marcus St. James, president of ENN WorldWide News. Sexy and powerful, with a stare that could freeze you in place, Marcus was the perfect reward for securing a job at Mitchell & Madison, the best law firm in Chicago. To play with the big fish, however, one must become a big fish, and that's where my little white lie began.

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.

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.

Milo. Unusual. Quirky. Different. I’ve heard it all. I’ve accepted I’m not for everyone. When I find out I inherited a bookstore and apartment on a small East Coast island, I jump at the chance for a new life. Turns out I’ve also inherited a sexy, tattooed guy who not only rents the space next to my store but my apartment too. Gideon. I wasn’t looking for a roommate, but it’s not like I can stay at Milo’s place while he’s banished to a hotel. According to Milo, we’re bestie goals. And if he doesn’t wear pants at home, who am I to complain?

Relationships are complex. Love is ever-changing. And when it comes to rules of the heart, they were made to be broken. That's what Robert Antonio Bianchi was telling himself, anyway. Otherwise, he really had no excuse for what - or who - he'd done. If there was a bad decision to be made, Robbie always had a knack for making it. And thus, begins the story of the priest, the princess, and the prick. 

Nothing in my life is really mine. I take care of my mama, work three jobs, I’m there when anyone needs me. Something about the beautiful, lonely man on my mail route interests me. He’s different in my world, where everything’s the same. I think he hates me, but that doesn’t stop me from hand-delivering every package and trying to find ways to make him smile. Then Emerson makes me an offer: He’ll pay me to spend the weekends with him, losing ourselves in each other’s bodies, no feelings or pasts involved.

Jackson Davenport, the charismatic, strait-laced heir to the Davenport fortune, has a secret. One he's been hiding since he graduated from South Haven all-boys academy - and that secret's name is Lucas. When a work trip takes Jackson back to his old stomping grounds, memories of the year he shared with Lucas come crashing to the surface. With growing pressure from his father to settle down and take over the family business, Jackson knows he's on borrowed time and sets out to find the free-spirited daredevil he once knew

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...

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.

Tyson Langley thinks the king in Franklin University Kings is in reference to him. Star lacrosse player and God’s gift to the female and male population, there’s nothing the spoiled jock can’t have. It’s impossible for us to be in the same room without talking crap to each other. But I also have a secret…as much as I despise Ty, I want him too. I revel in our banter and in never knowing what he’ll say next. I’ve spent too much time on the wrong side of the law for someone like Ty, though, and if I want to escape my past, he’s a distraction I don’t need.

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.