Novels by Lindy Writes

Chapter SixThe press conference room felt like a battlefield.Bright lights glared down on the long table. Soren sat stiffly in his Grizzlies hoodie, his jaw locked so tight it ached. JR lounged beside him like he owned the damn room, his spread legs, one arm draped casually along the back of Soren’s chair, and his fingers occasionally brushing the nape of his neck.The cameras flashed nonstop.“Mr. Draven, Mr. Calder,” a reporter called out, “can you clarify the nature of your relationship? Are the rumors true that you’re involved romantically?”Soren’s stomach twisted. JR leaned forward toward the microphone, his posture was calm as ever.“We’re involved,” JR said smoothly, with a low and confident voice. “That’s all we’re saying right now. The details are private.”Soren felt the collective inhale of the room. Another reporter jumped in immediately.“Captain Calder, how do your teammates feel about you… consorting with the enemy after Game Seven?”Soren gripped the edge of the ta

Soren’s back hit the wall with a dull thud. JR’s body caged him in, that damn smirk hovering too close, too confident. The fluorescent lights of the practice facility hallway buzzed overhead like a warning.“How much of me are you allowed to keep?” Soren repeated, his voice low and furious. “You just told my GM and my coach that I’m yours like I’m some fucking traded player. You don’t get to renegotiate in front of them!”JR’s thumb continued its slow, maddening stroke across Soren’s bottom lip. “I just did.” His gray eyes were dark and intense. “And you didn’t stop me.”Soren’s chest heaved. He hated how right JR was. He could have shoved him away, could have denied everything in that office, instead, he’d stood there and let JR stake his claim like it was the most natural thing in the world.“This is spiraling,” Soren said. “The press conference tomorrow, my teammates are going to lose their minds. We have a game in two days against Calgary. I can’t be thinking about your dick whi

Soren’s stomach dropped like he’d taken another hit into the boards.He stared at JR, phone still warm in his hand. “What do you mean you want more than thirty days? We had a deal. One month. That’s it.”JR didn’t flinch. He sat up fully, the sheet pooling around his waist, exposing the hard lines of his tattooed chest. “Deals change, Captain. Especially when the loser ends up in my bed looking like that.” His eyes raked over Soren’s marked neck and bruised torso with clear satisfaction. “You think I’m letting you walk away after one night?”Soren swung his legs off the bed and stood, ignoring the ache in his ribs and the deeper soreness lower down. “This isn’t a negotiation, Draven. I have a career, a team and now apparently leaked photos of us leaving together. Fuck.” He dragged a hand through his hair. “I need to get ahead of this before it explodes.”JR rose too, towering and unashamedly naked. “Or…” He stepped closer, voice dropping. “We lean into it.”Soren laughed sharply. “Lea

Soren’s fingers curled into the black sheets, his body tense as he turned onto his stomach. The cool fabric did nothing to soothe the fire racing under his skin. Behind him, the bed dipped as JR moved closer. A large, warm hand settled on the back of his neck, holding him there; steady and possessive.“Breathe, Captain,” JR murmured. “You’re shaking.”“I’m not shaking,” Soren snapped, even though his arms trembled slightly. “Just get on with it.”JR chuckled darkly, the sound vibrating through Soren’s spine. “Still fighting, good!” He leaned down, pressing a surprisingly soft kiss between Soren’s shoulder blades, right over a fading bruise. “I meant what I said. Tell me to stop and I stop.”Soren turned his head to the side, glaring at the man hovering above him. “Stop talking and fuck me already, Draven. Or are you all talk?”JR’s grip tightened on his neck for a second before sliding down his back, mapping every line of muscle. “You really want to play it like that?” He reached for

Soren’s breath caught in his throat as he said ‘everything’The single word hung between them like a loaded gun. JR’s gray eyes bored into his, daring him to run, to fight, to finally break. The voices in the hallway grew louder: teammates, staff, people who could walk in at any second and see their captain cornered by the enemy.“Fine,” Soren hissed, the word tasting like defeat and something far more volatile. “One night. We start with one night and we’ll talk about the rest tomorrow.”JR’s smirk returned, slow and victorious. “Smart choice, Captain. But we both know it won’t stop at one night.” He stepped back just enough to give Soren breathing room, but his hand stayed on Soren’s hip and his fingers pressing into bare skin like a brand. “Get dressed, we’re leaving now!”Soren shoved past him,his jaw tight, and yanked on a hoodie and sweats. Every movement pulled at his bruised ribs, a sharp reminder of how they’d gotten here. JR watched him the entire time with crossed arms, l

The final seconds of Game Seven felt like war.Soren Calder flew down the ice, heart hammering, stick gripped like a weapon. Twenty thousand fans screamed for the Vancouver Grizzlies to close it out, captain’s duty, one goal, one fucking goal and they’d take the series.“Move it, Calder!” his right winger shouted.Soren didn’t need the reminder. He saw the opening until Jeremy Draven cut across like a goddamn missile.“Eat shit, Draven!” Soren snarled as they collided shoulder-to-shoulder near the boards. JR’s gray eyes flashed behind his visor, wild and vicious.“You first, Captain,” JR shot back, with his voice raw with adrenaline. He dug his skate in and stole the puck with a brutal poke check that sent Soren spinning.The crowd groaned.JR didn’t waste the chance. He deked left, then right, and fired a pass that led to a crushing one-timer. Tie game. The Storm bench erupted. Soren’s stomach twisted.Thirty seconds left.He won the next faceoff, muscles screaming as he barreled tow