Two halves of a whole, Arlo Bishop and I were both unwanted kids brought together by the foster system. Dealing with the aftermath of neglect and abandonment, we grew up side-by-side and found solace in one another. But somewhere along the way, Arlo wanted and needed and loved drugs more. So I broke my own heart to save his. Now, four years later, I’m back in L.A. and face-to-face with my past. I didn’t plan on a second chance, fear of history repeating making it hard to forgive and even harder to forget. But with only one touch, one kiss, I was taken back to where it all started.

It started out as a little fun. When there was a man in my building on a hookup app, why not message him? Only we didn’t meet. We just texted - one night after the other, after the other. GoodWithHisHands was the perfect escape from my life, where pressure was always on my shoulders: my father’s expectations, the worry about my sister, Maddy, getting sick again, and her ex-husband, Ryder Lynwood, suddenly back and volunteering at the same hospital as me. I like talking to him, the same way I enjoy chatting with GoodWithHisHands. They weren’t supposed to be the same person. 

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...

I spent college worrying about responsibilities and earning my teaching degree, so before graduation and moving to Atlanta with my best friend, Ross, I figure I deserve a little fun. I’ve never been with an older man, but the guy at the bar grabs my attention and doesn’t let go…for multiple rounds, all night long. The next day, when Ross introduces me to his dad, the last thing I expect is for him to be my hookup from the night before, in town from Atlanta for his son’s graduation. The best thing would be to pretend it never happened, which is easier said than done.

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.

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 left my family and tiny Texas hometown 15 years ago to escape small-town gossips and to give my mom and sister the chance at a better life. But when a phone call from an attorney back home informs me that my sister passed away, leaving me custody of her newborn baby, I'm shocked out of the steady life I've built for myself running a tattoo shop in San Francisco. The thing is: I don't do babies. And I don't do small towns. Or commitment. And I especially don't do family.

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.

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.

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?

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.

Asher Henderson. Captain of the Highnam Academy football team, and the bane of my existence. As Alstone High’s team captain, I’ve been pitted against him from the beginning, but our conflict isn’t only reserved for the pitch. Everyone knows we’re enemies. From our first encounter, our rivalry has been escalating, spiraling out of control. Until one night when everything between us changed. He pushed me too far, and we crossed a line that should never have been crossed. Now, I can’t get him out of my head.

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.

If I had to describe Sean Bailey, it would be: A surly, temperamental pain in my ass. Never in that equation would I ever include the word boyfriend - and not just because he’s straight. The older brother of my life-long best friend, Sean is a detective for the Chicago PD, and is also known as Detective “Dick” for being...well, a surly, temperamental pain in everyone’s ass. He also happens to be the best they have, which is why I find myself on his doorstep the night my life is threatened by an anonymous stalker.

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.