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At first, I thought it would be an easy payday. A few pew pews for bad people, a couple of suitcases of cash for me. People have done worse for an honest living. The problem is that after a couple of jobs, I’ve never actually managed to unalive someone, and not for lack of trying. Apparently, a basic requirement of a hitman is being a good shot. Despite my constant duck-ups, I’m given another name, and I very nearly follow through. Only after obliterating this guy’s ear and his fervent pleading to spare him, I’ve sent him into hiding and collected the cash anyway.

Give me the smallest reason to make a bad decision, and I’ll jump in with both feet. Case in point: thinking that drunkenly buying an abandoned town with my brothers is a good idea. As builders, we plan to renovate and flip the town, maybe turn it into something worth seeing, but the longer we’re here, the more things feel … off. It’s not until a bearded mountain man breaks into my room in the middle of the night and threatens for us to get out of his town that I realize Wilde’s End isn’t as abandoned as we were told.

My best friend is uptight, gorgeous, the greatest person I know … and I might be a smidge in love with him. Just a small amount. Barely worth the mention. Which is a stupid choice on my part when the guy is straight. Starting a landscaping company with him was the perfect mix of doing what I love and an excuse to spend time with him, only it hasn’t completely taken off yet and now he’s telling me he’s lonely.

I’ve always been the relationship guy. I love big, hard and fast … but unfortunately for me, that’s the quickest way to make a new romance crash and burn. Moving to Wilde’s End, our not-so-abandoned town, is exactly the fresh start I need. What’s better than a town in the middle of nowhere and long days of hard work to swear off relationships? At least that’s what I think, until I meet Ziggy.

When I show up to surprise my boyfriend in a barely-there festive outfit, I’m expecting him to be alone. Not hosting family. His fiancé’s family. Down one boyfriend and up a lot of embarrassment, I flee with my tail between my legs. The broken heart will fade. My humiliation, not so much, but my saving grace is the fact that I never have to see either of them ever, ever again. Until I walk into work and come face to face with my new boss.

There’s something seriously wrong with me. For once, I’m not talking about the health anxiety that randomly pops up and wreaks havoc on my life. I'm talking about, well, everything else. All my roommates have found someone to love them, and it hurts to see the guys who used to have me at the center of their worlds pair off and grow up, especially when it’s a reminder of how alone I've always been. I’ve always had an issue with relationships. With forming a connection with people outside of Seven, but this is more.

Royal Scoundrel is the prequel novella between Charles's dads. Even though it takes place twenty years before the Frat Wars books, it's best enjoyed last. DASH: Archibald Levine the third is a pain in my ass. Rich, cocky and the closest thing to a prince that our school has. I hate everything about his entitled attitude and the stupid Kappa crown he wears. I also hate the gigantic crush I have on the guy. One night, backed up by the courage of tequila, my mouth gets away from me and I offer him the one thing he can't stop thinking about. Me. On my knees.

My life’s goal? Make plants fun! I’m gonna be fighting for flora when I’m older and it all starts with auditing stats so I can level up for my masters, and lucky for me, the intriguing guy in my class is a math whizz. He’s standoffish at first, but after a class where I bet my sitcoms can make him laugh, one bet leads to another and we’re hanging out all the time. Even though I know he’s interested in me, we’re easy friends, until I start to think I might be a little interested in him, too.

In a list of what’s most important to me, three things are right up there at the top. My kids, my husband Mack, and my career I’ve spent my life building. Unfortunately that career has me away from home more than I'd like, and when I refuse to walk away from it, my husband walks away from me instead.

When it comes to regrets, I have none. My life is perfect. I own a bar, work hard, party harder, and smother my niblings in all the love they deserve. I don’t need to settle down, as much as my sister might want me to. But then, Joey Manning walks into my office and leaves me all but begging to give him a job, and wanting to give him so much more.

Being invited to my cousin’s wedding really shouldn’t be a big deal except, oh yeah, I haven't seen my family for a decade. My parents turned their backs on me, and I’ve done everything since to become successful and show them what they've lost. Only it’s kinda hard to be a success when you’re a walking trainwreck.

Walking away from my marriage was my idea of a fresh start. My kid is in college, my ex-wife and I are on good terms…but being single in my 40s is a world different to being single in my teens. I’m thankful for my best friend, Heath. He’s got my back like he always does and is ready to take me out and show me how the bachelor life is done. He was never supposed to show me literally. After we wake up in bed together, I can’t stop looking at him differently, and one thing becomes abundantly clear.

At Rho Kappa Tau, I’m a legacy. It’s a lot of pressure, but I’ve always been responsible, never had that rebellious need to rock the boat - and I like it that way. But after a party at Sigma - the jock frat - I meet Chad Doomsen, and for the first time in my life, I want to step outside my square. Our houses have always had a rivalry, but some of the guys seem to hate Chad specifically, and I don’t know why. He’s surprisingly sweet and kind. I need to stay away. A relationship with Chad would be betraying the very legacy that brought me here. But I can’t help myself.

Moving to Seattle is supposed to be all about getting a fresh start and leaving the bitter man I was becoming behind. I have new roommates–quirky, sometimes strange, roommates–a nosy next-door neighbor, and a grumpy kitty for company, but even surrounded by people, I still don’t feel like I belong. Plus, it turns out the men in Seattle are exactly the same as the ones I left behind, and my string of romantic disconnections continues.

Banging my son’s bestie was a total accident that will never, ever happen again. I’m sure of it. While he might be gorgeous and caught me in a weak moment, when it comes right down to it, my son has been my entire life for the last twenty-six years. I don’t know how to be anything other than his dad. But with Molly heading off to Seattle, he leaves me with a parting gift: Will. His best friend. And my new roommate.

I’ve never thought much about Orson Naples. He’s a cute guy who I’d seen around town a few times, but then one day he up and left and didn’t reappear until a few years later. No one knows where he went or what he was doing, all this gossipy town knows is that he’s a widower, owns the florist, and is friends with that divorced group that hang out at the Killer Brew all the time.

One date. That’s how long it takes for Marshall Harrows to end up on my bad side. Luckily, I have no plans to see the giant teddy bear again. Except when he shows up as my new roommate, I can’t escape him, and he’s just as irritating as I thought he’d be. He leaves cupboards ajar and puts empty milk cartons back in the fridge. His bedroom door is always open, I find his underwear on the laundry floor, and he has this whole bashful sweetheart thing going on that I just…can’t…stand.

As social chair of Sigma Beta Psi, I’m the life of the party. It’s what I’m known for, and if it’s not fun, I’m not interested, simple as that. I’m not someone who overthinks. So, when one of my brothers hooks up with a dude from another frat house, it catches me off guard when I can’t stop thinking about them…together. There’s only one way for me to get this obsession out of my head, and that’s by jumping in with both feet and putting it into practice.

Being president of a frat house means everything is on my shoulders. Idiot brothers, epic pranks, a list of organizational duties long enough to make my eyes bleed. None of it fazes me. But senior year is almost over, and I’m ready to take a step back.

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...