Once, the only thing that mattered to me was football - training, playing, and earning my place on the best team at every level. I had it all, and I threw it away with a semester of drugs, alcohol....

The first book in the scorching new Hot Jocks series by New York Times best-selling author Kendall Ryan - available in audio first! I've never been so stupid in my entire life. Elise Parrish, my teammate's incredibly sweet and gorgeous younger sister, should have been off-limits, but my hockey stick didn't get the memo. After our team won the championship, our flirting turned physical, and I took her to bed. Then shame sent her running the next morning from our catastrophic mistake.

I was only trying to help a friend. I swear. I was legit asking for a friend who was finally ready to date again. So I did what any good friend would do. Posted it for her. It seemed like a good idea at the time - I’d weed through the candidates, and bring her my top picks. But then he responded. Is it wrong to date the guy I screened for my bestie? Not asking for a friend.

Sexy billionaire Liam Bennett is cocky, dangerously handsome, and more importantly, my new boss. If only my ovaries didn't flutter when he was near - yeah, that'd be super helpful. When our long hours lead to a dare - and an X-rated encounter - I never expected it to be the hottest sex of my life. It'd also be super helpful if Liam didn't know it and taunt me about it every chance he got. Unable to deny our attraction any longer, our work relationship brings a whole new meaning to the term inbox.

At 34, I'm reeling from a divorce. I don't want to party or try to move on. I just want to stay home and post a new recipe on my blog: Brynn's Dips and Balls. But my friends aren't having it. Get out there again, they say. It will be fun, they say. I'm still taking a hard pass. Free designer cocktails, they say. And that's a game-changer. Too bad my ex shows up with his new arm candy. That's when I lose my mind.

I’m the guy you call when you need to impress your overbearing family, your boss, or your ex. Yeah, I’m a male escort, but not just any escort, I’m the escort. The one with a mile-long waiting list and a pristine reputation that’s very well-deserved. I’m the guy who’ll make you feel beautiful, desired, and worshipped...all for a steep price. I’m hired to make you shine, and I always deliver. I’ll be whatever you want me to be for one night - except my true self. This is just a job, a role I play to earn a paycheck. But I’m not the guy who falls for a client.

My love wand is on a strike. As bad as that blows, pun unintended, it’s 10 times worse for me. I’m a male escort, but not just any escort, I’m the escort. The one with a mile-long waiting list and a pristine reputation that’s very well-deserved. Only now, I’m on hiatus. Because after years of pleasing women all over the city, my man missile decides to get finicky. And the only woman he wants? Someone I can never have - my best friend’s younger sister, the nerdy and awkwardly adorable Sienna.

That irresistible, tattooed hottie who’s been flirting hard with me since he rode into town? The one who kissed me senseless in the back of a waffle truck the other day? Yeah, turns out he’s my new housemate.... Things I don’t need while up for a promotion to police sergeant - a roomie who makes me think criminal thoughts. Can I arrest him for being too good-looking? But I soon learn Derek is strong, caring, generous, good with kids, and kind to puppies...and might be able to help me with my promotion, which gives me an idea....   

Let me make this clear right here, right now: I, Halley Dawson, do not care that Preston Wright is kissing other women. Not a lick. Not at all. Nuh-uh-freakin'-uh. I do care that he's doing it six feet away from me behind a gaudy velvet curtain - making him my competition in this year's kissing contest. Why do I care, you ask? Because I've had an unfortunate crush on the insufferable idiot since I was 16 years old, but I also know it's never going to happen. 

Picture this - I’m ready to win back the love of my life, and I’m going big this time. We’re talking boom box, sing her name in the rain, let the whole damn neighborhood know I'm good and ready this time around. After all, if you're going to grand gesture the ever-loving hell out of a second chance, you need to pull out all the stops. There’s only one little problem. My college girlfriend isn't the one who shows up when I play my "I'll do anything to win you back" tune. The woman who flings open the second-floor window tells me my ex doesn’t live here anymore.

It was the summer of my life. I’d met the guy of my dreams. Unfortunately, he was the son of my uppity employer - and very much off-limits. But Gavin was a rebel. He knew his mother would disown him if she found out about us; in his eyes, we just had to be careful. He never treated me as his mother did - like hired help. Instead, Gavin put me on a pedestal and loved me harder than I’d ever been loved in my life. 

Between her waitressing job, volunteer work, and college classes, there are never enough hours in Maggie Reilly’s day. Especially not for a relationship. Luckily, she’s got the perfect arrangement: a lover she meets three or four times a year. But when she shows up at the hotel expecting to hop into bed with one man, she accidentally ends up with another - Ben Barrett, Hollywood’s most notorious bad boy.

My best friend, Natalie, has been by my side through everything. Leaning on my shoulder, borrowing my sweatshirts…and making my pants too tight when she flashes me that sassy smile that drives me crazy. But she has no idea about that last part. She doesn't have a clue I've felt this way about her for years. Until one night after too many cocktails, we fall into bed together. I'm flirting with my forever…she just doesn't know it yet. 

I have no idea why I said yes. Maybe I'd had one too many wines. Maybe I'd done it accidentally. Maybe I'd been sleep-texting. One thing I know for sure is this: I absolutely do not want Ethan Hawkins in my apartment, up in my business, taking over my space. Yet he's here, moving his stuff into my spare bedroom, sending a wave of panty-melting, musky man-scent my way every time he walks past me. Here's the thing. We don't get along - at all. We never have, and I don't think we're going to start now that we're under one roof.  

Top tip: Don't put out an online ad offering your services as a fake date. Someone will take you up on it - and it won't just be for one night. And that, ladies and gentlemen, is how I ended up being Mason Jackson's fake girlfriend. He didn't even want me to be. No - his sister was solely responsible for me being his date for his 10-year high school reunion. And now, she's responsible for telling his parents our relationship is real. We have no choice. We have to act like this isn't all a mistake.