Novels by Liora

Theodore~I should've fucking said no. That was the first thought that hit me when I saw the moving truck pull up but the second thought was far worse.Why is he actually here?I stood by the window of my dorm, arms crossed, watching like it was some kind of bad joke the universe was trying to sell me. Boxes. Bags. A hockey duffel that looked way too familiar and then him.Noah.Of course he wasn’t struggling. Of course he wasn’t confused and to make it worse, he looked like he belonged there.He was talking to one of the housing staff, nodding like this was all normal. Like we weren’t about to share a room. Like we didn’t—I stopped that thought immediately.No.We were not doing that.A knock hit my door but I already knew who it was before I opened it. Joe leaned in the doorway like he owned the place, hands in his hoodie pocket and his grin too wide for someone who just walked across campus.“You look like you’re about to commit a crime,” he said.“I’m thinking about it,” I repli

CHAPTER 4Theodore~“Mom, you can’t do that!”My voice cracked and pitched higher than I meant it to. I cleared my throat, forcing myself to breathe through my nose before I completely embarrassed myself. Jesus Christ. How could she possibly think this was okay? Sharing a dorm was one thing.Sharing a dorm with him?“Theodore,” my mom said patiently, like I was five instead of nineteen. “You guys are brothers.”“We can never be brothers, Mother.” The words slipped out harsher than intended. My jaw clenched as panic clawed its way up my spine. How do I suddenly become brothers with the guy who fucked me less than forty-eight hours ago?It hadn’t even been two days.She sighed, rubbing her temple. "Noah has nowhere else to go right now. The apartment he was subletting fell through, and with the semester already started, dorms are full. You’ve got that big single room all to yourself. It’s temporary. Just until housing sorts something out.”“My room is built for one person.” The lie slip

Theodore~“Do you know the new guy?”Joe’s voice was casual, but I could feel his eyes on me as we walked toward the lockers. I kept mine forward, jaw tight.“No. Why?”“You’re looking at him weirdly.”I let out a dry laugh. “Just because I’m gay doesn’t mean I want to fuck every guy, Joe,” I muttered under my breath, making sure no one else heard.Technically, I already have been fucked by that guy. Which is worse than wanting to.What’s worse than being a closeted captain of a hockey team?Being the closeted captain who got wrecked by his new winger twelve hours before practice.“You know that’s not what I mean,” Joe said, bumping his shoulder lightly into mine.I rolled my eyes and started stripping off my gear. “Drop it.”Joe studied me for another second but thankfully didn’t push.I had bigger problems.Like Noah’s smirk.Like the way his eyes dropped to my neck like he knew exactly what he’d left there. Like the fact that he was now permanently attached to my line.Fantastic.I

A deep groan clawed its way out of my chest as my phone kept vibrating against my nightstand like it had a personal vendetta against me.For a split second, I considered letting it die.It didn’t.I snatched it up without checking the caller ID. “What?!” I barked, voice thick with sleep and last night’s bad decisions.“Are you deadass?” Joe’s voice exploded through the speaker. No good morning. “Coach asked us to be present this morning. We have a new member. And you—as our captain—are still in bed?”My eyes flew open.Shit.I shot upright so fast the room tilted. Sunlight stabbed through the blinds like punishment. My head pounded in protest, my mouth dry as sandpaper. I glanced at the time.Ten minutes.Practice started in ten fucking minutes.“Oh fuck,” I muttered, dragging a hand down my face. Memories from last night came in flashes—neon lights, bass shaking the floor, a body pressed against mine in a dark hallway. Hands. A mouth. Teeth grazing my shoulder. The smell of cologne

Theodore POVYou probably think it can’t get any worse than hooking up with a random guy after a win and then seeing him the next morning as the newest member of your hockey team.Try going home that same day and finding out your mom got a ‘fiance’ over the weekend.Try watching that same guy—same messy dark hair, same crooked smirk, same tattoo you traced with your tongue a few hours ago—walk into your kitchen with a duffel bag slung over his shoulder while your mother beams and says, “Surprise! This is your new stepbrother.”Yeah.That’s my life right now.But let’s rewind to twelve hours earlier—before my world decided to implode.“We wonnn!” I shouted, the word ripping out of my throat as the buzzer echoed through the arena. The crowd erupted, the sound crashing over us like a tidal wave. Someone slammed into me from behind and I was yanked into a sweaty, suffocating hug.The scoreboard glowed above us.3–2.Jesus fucking Christ, we were seconds from losing that game.I stared at