The prequel story to the Divorced Men’s Club: Leif and Barney. My best friend is the love of my life … he just doesn’t know it yet. Ever since Barney finalized his divorce, I’ve been his biggest support. He needs a shoulder to cry on? I’ve got him covered. He needs someone to answer his late phone calls? I’m here all night. He needs to be fucked to within an inch of his life? Climb on up, big guy. But when he mentions he’s finally ready to start dating again, watching him meet up with guy after guy is not on my checklist. It’s time for the best friend gloves to come off.

Payne: In search of: room to rent. Must ignore the patheticness of a forty-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 ... Beau: In search of: roommate. Must be non smoker and non douchebag. Room payment to be made in meal planning, repairs, and dumb jokes. Since my career took off, I barely have time to breathe, let alone keep my life in order. I’m naturally chaotic, make terrible decisions, and scare off potential dates with my “weirdness”. So when Payne gets back into town and needs somewhere to stay, I offer him my spare room with one condition: while he’s staying with me, I need him to help me become date-able. And while he does that, I can focus on my other plan: ignoring that Payne is the only man I’ve ever wanted to date.

Griff: 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 forties 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. I talk a big talk about wanting to be single, but my platonic rule book has gone out the window. Heath: When my best friend comes to me for help post-divorce, I’m only too happy to impart my wisdom to him. After all, Griffin isn’t my type, but even I can tell he’s a complete lumbersnack. Good with his hands, kind eyes, and a killer smile. All the guys and gals are gonna eat him alive. But the more time we spend together, the less “not my type” he becomes. I’m the one who can’t get enough of him. Neither of us is interested in a relationship, so what’s a little fun between friends? We both know the score.

Ford 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. But then one day I step into his flower shop and go from rarely thinking about him, to him constantly being on my mind. There’s a restlessness to him that I’m dying to unlock answers to. And his eyes linger on me a little too long for a straight man … Orson Ford Thomas is a pest. A delightful one. A tempting one. But I’m too old for games. The ones I’ve played in the past have always led me to trouble which is why I vowed to settle down and live a quiet life. So when Ford walks into my shop all uncontained energy and flirty quips in a pair of heavy work boots, I know I should show him the door. I don’t need fun. I don’t need experiences. Especially when those experiences have me questioning things I thought I knew about myself.

Art 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. The self-professed straight man is in my head and while I know that I need to move on from him, my body isn’t getting that message. It doesn’t help that Joey is a grade A flirt who can banter with the best of them. I’ve never had regrets. Not until Joey Manning. Joey The bills keep piling up and the pressure to get my sisters through college before we’re evicted is always on the back of my mind. Whoever said life was for living, clearly forgot that living’s expensive. My default mode is stressed AF and working myself to the bone, and there’s only one person who gives me a break from all that. Art de Almeida. My boss. The one man I shouldn’t flirt with, but I can’t seem to stop. I want to get under his skin. To leave him panting for me. Which wouldn’t be such a bad thing except that he thinks I’m straight, and I’ve never bothered to correct him. I need this job. But some days I worry that I need Art more.

Keller 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. Still, I’m determined to focus on my plan of finding someone to settle down with and to start living for me. Then Molly hits me with another gift: he’s asked Will to help find me the perfect partner. Will Molly running away across the country and leaving me made one thing very obvious. I crave stability. I crave a life where I get to control what happens to me, without the constant threat of having to move home to my homophobic family. All I need to focus on is work and making enough money for the downpayment on my own place. Except now I’m living in the spare bedroom of the man I’ve been in love with for years. The same bedroom where we had one very messy, very quick accidental frot sesh. Now I’m cooking for him every night, and we’re working out together every morning. It’s all feeling very domestic and my heart can’t separate reality from the fantasies in my head. I know I’m going to get hurt. It’s only a matter of time. But when it comes to Keller, it’s impossible for me to walk away.

Davey 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. Living together post\-divorce makes sense for us, but it blurs the lines between what we were and what we have. Now that I’ve scored a big promotion and negotiated twelve long weeks at home, memories of our life together haunt me. They make me long for what we had. And now that Mack is moving on with someone else, I’m being faced with the cold truth. I should never have let Mack go, and now it might be too late to get him back. Mack Twelve weeks. It’s the longest Davey has been home since we had the kids, and all it does is remind me of everything I wish I still had. So I decide this is it. I have twelve weeks to remind Davey of everything he lost and hope like hell when I give him the choice between work and me again, that this time he chooses me. None of my friends are on board with my plan, and the new guy in town is trying his hardest to win me over. But I can ignore cute notes slipped into my favorite books if it means getting back the man I’ll love forever. All I need to do is remind him our life together was perfect. Now if only our kids, our friends, and his work would get the memo …