Résultats de "Eden Finley" dans Toutes les catégories

It doesn’t matter that I was the number one draft pick in the NHL or that I’m projected to be the next great generational player, because none of it is enough to impress my childhood crush back in my hometown. Sam used to mock me for being like a Disney Princess with my uncanny knack for finding animals in need. And being home in Colorado for the summer, I’m bound to run into him now that he runs the animal shelter where I used to volunteer. Where I used to try to get his attention every chance I had.

Ollie : Note à moi-même : ne jamais - jamais - faire son coming out à un parfait étranger dans des toilettes publiques. (Même si cet étranger est un adorable intello super mignon.) Ma famille est persuadée que je ne serai jamais heureux en restant dans le placard. Mon hargneux ex-petit ami ainsi que ma carrière en berne peuvent en témoigner. Alors un faux petit-ami me semblait être la solution parfaite pour que ma famille me fiche la paix. Et j'avais même trouvé le mec parfait. Peut-être que j'aurais dû commencer par lui demander son nom ?

L'un veut soigner sa réputation, l'autre cherche simplement à emmerder son père. Matt : Vous voulez connaître la manière la plus rapide de foutre en l'air une carrière de footballeur ? Se faire photographier dans une position compromettante dans un bar gay... Mon agent dit qu'il peut sauver mon image en faisant de moi l'ambassadeur LGBT du foot. Moi ? Je ferais tout pour retourner sur le terrain. Même prétendre avoir un petit ami sérieux...

Découvrez l'histoire de Jet et Soren dans ce dernier volume de "Faux petit-ami". Il n'est pas recommandé de le lire seul. Tous les personnages principaux de la série y figurent en bonne place.

MILLER : Lorsque Talon est parti jouer au football américain chez les pros, j'ai été surpris par le trou béant qu'il a laissé dans ma poitrine. Pour me remettre, je me suis focalisé sur mon rêve de me qualifier dans la NFL et, une fois recruté, j'ai refoulé ce manque créé par mon meilleur ami. Il veut désormais que tout redevienne comme à l'université, mais nous ne pouvons pas faire des plans à trois comme à l'époque et prendre des risques. Une tempête médiatique suffirait à briser nos carrières respectives. Ce n'est cependant pas ce qui me préoccupe le plus.

Maddox: La raison pour laquelle je rentre rarement chez moi se résume en quatre mots : je suis un menteur. Ai-je (faussement) avoué être gay et fui à New York comme si j'avais le feu aux fesses pour éviter d'épouser mon amour de jeunesse ? Oui. Cinq ans plus tard – après une rencontre arrosée - me voilà invité à son mariage ! Foutu karma... Et bien sûr, je suis censé venir avec mon petit ami. Petit ami qui n'existe pas, soit dit en passant. Parce que je suis hétéro (vous suivez ?). Mais ça... je n'en suis plus si sûr.

After my divorce, I’m ready to have fun, date around, and not get into anything serious. Then I meet Gabe Crosby, superhero firefighter and a disgrace to the Crosby name. He doesn’t even like hockey! Yet, there’s a draw to him I can’t deny—something I haven’t felt since my teens. But that’s the problem. I have no idea what dating is like, let alone how to do it with another man. He makes me flakey and nervous, and I’ve never been that guy.

"Look out for Zach, and don't hit on him." My brother's request sounds easy enough. Keep an eye out for his best friend on campus and keep my hands to myself. Easy. Even if Zach is a quintessential nerd, who I've always thought was cute, I don't have the time to think with my...stick. There's only one stick I should be focused on this year, and that's my hockey stick. My goal once I graduate is to get an NHL contract. The last thing I need is a distraction. On or off the ice. Only, keeping to the rules is harder than I thought it would be. 

The idea of moving away from Seattle was a joke at first. I have too many failed relationships here. Too much baggage. So when I find myself signing with Nashville and leaving everything behind, I’m hopeful a new start will cure me of my attachment problems. I fall fast and hard, and I’m quickly realizing it’s not so easy to escape my emotional damage. That follows no matter where I go.

The worst part of being in love with my straight best friend is the fact he’s too oblivious to see it. Years of pining have left me exhausted, and I need a break from Dex. I need space to get over my feelings. But when his relationship falls apart and he turns to me for comfort, I cave immediately. If there’s one thing I hate more than being hurt, it’s seeing Dex struggle. I can’t leave him in a time of need, even if my friends say it’s my biggest downfall. They say Dexter Mitchale is my weakness, but if that’s true, I don’t want to be strong.

When my sister moves from Chicago to Edmonton to get married, I take the opportunity to follow her. My life has become a lonely existence, only ever having time for work. The closest thing I have to a relationship is a one-sided affair with Gunner–the hottest cam boy on the app Money Shot. This move will be good. It will allow me to slow down and sort out my priorities. Maybe I’ll even have time for a real relationship with someone in person. The problem with that is, the only person to catch my eye in Canada is the commitment-phobe best man.

Straining my groin is bad enough. It puts my hockey career, my future, but even worse, my dignity on the line. Having to get massages in that area from Vance Landon, one of the team trainers, is mortifying. It’s impossible to hide my feelings toward him. If my constant blushing and bumbling doesn’t give it away, my body does. It’s getting to the point where I wonder if hockey is even worth the embarrassment. Trying to avoid him only makes him seek me out more. He’s determined to rehab my injury, but all I want is for him to leave me alone.

It turns out making out with my best friend in high school could be considered gay. Who knew? Apparently, everyone but me. Now that it's been pointed out, I can't help reliving it in my head. Repeatedly. Good-bye Denial Town, hello Confusionville. When my path leads me down the gay dating app route, I don't expect to meet anyone I like, but then I meet him. He can't be more opposite than me. He's smart, he hates hockey, and he identifies as demi - something I've never heard of. Yet I can't deny something's there.

Want to know the fastest way to get screwed out of a football career? Get photographed in a compromising position in a gay bar. Yep, welcome to my life. My agent says he can fix my image. He wants me to become the poster boy for gay football players. Me? I just want back on the field. I'll do anything to play for the NFL again, even pretend to have a steady boyfriend. If only my fake boyfriend wasn't Noah Huntington III - the most arrogant, entitled rich guy in the world. 

After a little mishap in an alleyway with CCTV, my public image needs fixing. Oops? It might have been a stunt to get the attention of Lane Pierce, San Jose’s new PR manager, but I didn’t realize what the consequences would be when I did it. I’ve got Lane’s sole focus now in all the wrong ways.

When Talon left to play pro ball six years ago, the hole in my chest confused me. I focused my heartache into making my own NFL dreams come true, and by the time I was drafted, the longing I had for my best friend was buried deep. Now, he wants everything to be like it was in college, but we can't have threesomes and be reckless like we once were. The media storm would be enough to break both our careers. That's not my biggest concern, though. The torch I had for him burns brighter after so long apart, and there's nothing I can do about it. Marcus Talon is straight.

You know what's not fun? Going on a Fiji vacation with four other couples. Especially when recently single. What's even worse is when a past hook-up arrives unannounced. Not only do we have a history, but he's 10 years younger and a famous rock star. Most importantly, he's my friend's little brother. Being trapped on an island with Jet Jackson is going to be sweet torture because all I want is another chance. I just don't think he's going to give it to me.

For the last three years, I've lived and breathed hockey with one goal: team captain. There's only one thing standing in my way. TJ Beckett. Beck is irresponsible and immature, and I've hated him since the moment we met freshman year. Yet the coaches see something in him I obviously can't, and they refuse to choose between us. The captain spot is going to a team vote. And the team thinks that what we need are a bunch of challenges to prove our worth. 

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.

The fall from NHL superstar to domestic disaster was swift and painful. When I became the legal guardian of my five younger siblings, I had no idea what I was doing. One year later, I'm still lost. Coaching CU's hockey team might be the only thing I'm excelling at. But when our star forward is failing math, I have to do what it takes to keep him on the team. Even if it's going head-to-head with Jasper Eckstein. One minute I'm confronting the notorious hockey-hating professor, and the next I'm agreeing to be his date to a twenty-year high school reunion. I don't know how that happened.