Novels by J.O

MASONThe rink was cold. Perfect. The ice stretched out in front of me like a blank slate, waiting for me to carve it up with every stride, every turn, every shot.It was early, way too early, but I needed this. Needed the space, the silence. Needed the ice to clear my mind.I pushed the door open and let the chill hit me like a slap across the face. I was the first one here, which was just how I liked it. No distractions. No noise. Just me and the rink.Samantha’s face flashed in my mind before I could shut it down. Her eyes, her smile, the way she had looked at me the other night… God, I couldn’t get her out of my head.It wasn’t just the pull of her—there was something else. Something deeper. Something that made me want to run in the other direction and hold her close at the same time.I shook my head, skating to the center of the rink. I didn’t have time for this. Not now.The pressure was starting to get to me, the nationals coming up faster than I wanted to admit. I had to be sh

MASONAudrey snapped the second we pulled away from the house.“You bastard,” she spat, her voice shaking with fury. “You think I didn’t see what you were doing under that table?”I didn’t answer. I kept my eyes on the road, jaw locked tight, hands white around the steering wheel.“You touched her,” she hissed. “God, you actually touched her.”I felt her glare on the side of my face. The kind that could burn holes through skin.“That girl? Seriously? She’s a slut, Mason. A nobody. And you—” she laughed bitterly. “You’re trash.”I didn’t flinch. I deserved the words. Maybe worse. But I couldn’t make myself feel sorry.Because all I could think about was the way Samantha had shivered when I slid my fingers along her thigh. The way she didn’t push me away. Her breath catching, barely there, but I felt it. I felt all of it.It had been reckless. Stupid. A heat-of-the-moment thing.But once I touched her, I couldn’t stop.It was like my skin remembered hers—too soft, too warm. Too much.An

SAMANTHAI sat frozen at the table, my breath coming in shallow pulls. My legs wouldn’t stop trembling beneath my gown, and no matter how tightly I pressed my knees together, I couldn’t make them still.What the hell just happened?What in God’s name was that?My skin still burned from his touch, like an invisible flame had been lit under my dress.I could still feel him. The ghost of his fingers. The pressure. The slow tease. The way he owned me with nothing but a hand and silence.I couldn’t look at anyone. Not one soul.The room was still full of laughter and clinking glasses. And I sat there—shaken, silent, trying not to fall apart.Then I felt it. Audrey’s eyes.Her stare hit me like a cold slap, sharp and cutting. My breath caught in my throat. I looked up, almost afraid.And she looked away.Just like that—cool, collected, like she hadn’t been watching me crumble from her man’s touch. Like she hadn’t seen anything at all.But she had.God, she had.I reached for my wine glass,

MASONFuck.What the hell was she wearing?I swear my grip on Audrey’s waist tightened the second I stepped through the door and laid eyes on Samantha.That dress—that damn burgundy dress—fit her like a second skin. It teased just the right amount of cleavage and hugged every curve I knew too damn well. She knew what she was doing. She had to.I cleared my throat and let go of Audrey as I walked further into the room, trying to act normal, whatever that meant around Samantha.Mom hugged Audrey first—of course—and gave her a sweet smile. “Thank you for taking care of my son,” she said, like I was some delicate porcelain doll.Funny. I was the one taking care of this clingy-ass girl. If anyone needed saving, it was me.Dad’s handshake was firm, but the look he gave me was something else. A warning. He caught the way I looked at Samantha, and he didn’t like it. Not one bit.Macey gave me the biggest grin and a side hug. But she didn’t even glance at Audrey.Not surprising.She’s hated Au

SAMANTHAI walked through the mall, feeling the buzz of the crowd around me, but somehow, I was lost in my thoughts.The bright lights above lit up everything so clearly, and it made the air feel a little heavier.I felt light, almost weightless, in a way I hadn’t felt in a while. Spending time with Macey had done that for me. We laughed, talked, and for a few hours, I could forget about all the other mess in my life. I could just breathe.The mall was packed with people, some in a hurry, others just casually browsing, but I didn’t really pay attention to them.My mind was on tonight. Macey’s mom had invited me over for dinner, and I needed something special to wear. That woman always preached looking good and God forbid I become the center of her jokes tonight.I walked past a boutique, and something caught my eye. A burgundy dress hanging in the window, the light hitting it just right. The color was deep and rich but not over-the-top.I stepped into the store, my fingers brushing th

SAMANTHAI cursed under my breath, staring at the clock. I was late. We were so late.My stomach twisted into knots, and I felt the weight of the day press down on me. “Mace,” I called, shaking her shoulder harder than I probably should have.“Mace, get up! We’re going to be late for class.”She groaned, her face still buried in the blanket. “Five more minutes...” Her voice was thick with sleep, and I couldn’t help but feel irritated a little bit.I ran my fingers through my hair and cursed again, louder this time. “No, we don’t have five minutes, we’ve wasted twenty. Get up, now!”Macey barely stirred. I shook her again, feeling my patience slip away as she let out a small, annoyed sigh.“Okay, okay, I’m up,” she muttered, slowly sitting up. Her eyes were still heavy with sleep, and the frown on her face only made me more frustrated.I checked the time once more, my stomach tightening. We were cutting it too close. If we didn’t hurry, we’d be late, and I couldn’t afford that.I actua

Six months later...The wind in North Dakota had a bite to it, but the sky stretched wide and endless, like a soft blue promise.The air smelled fresh, a little wild—like new beginnings.I stood by the window of our small off-campus apartment, cradling a chipped mug of hot cocoa between my hands.The windows fogged slightly from the warmth, and outside, the trees shivered, shaking loose the last stubborn golden leaves.Behind me, I heard Noah moving around—the heavy thud of books hitting the floor, the low, sleepy curses as he dug through his bag.It made me smile.“Your Psych book’s on the table,” I called out without turning.There was a beat of silence. Then the familiar sound of his bare feet padding closer.The next thing I knew, his arms were sliding around my waist, pulling me back against him.“You’re magic, you know that?” he murmured into the curve of my neck, his voice low and rough from sleep.I laughed softly, leaning into him, feeling the solid weight of his chest agains

Cameron’s presence hit me like a slap.For one terrible second, I couldn’t breathe.The blood roared in my ears, drowning out everything else.Then I was on my feet before I even knew it, my chair screeching loudly across the marble floor.“What the hell, Mom?!” I shouted, my voice sharp and broken at the same time.The room went deathly still.Noah reached for me quickly, his hand brushing my wrist, his voice low and urgent.“Elena... don’t. Calm down.”But I couldn’t.I shook him off hard, blinking against the hot sting behind my eyes. My chest heaved as I looked at my mother.She just sat there, unbothered, like the commotion in front of her was nothing more than a breeze.I pointed a trembling finger at her, my anger spilling out faster than I could control.“You planned this,” I hissed, my voice breaking. “You had an agenda when you invited us. You set us up.”A sick, bitter laugh threatened to climb up my throat, but I swallowed it back.My mother didn’t flinch.Didn’t blink.Di

I paced the room while Noah tried on the last suit. My feet moved without meaning, a slow circle around the scattered ties and open boxes.He stood near the mirror, tugging gently at the dark jacket, adjusting the collar like it was choking him.He looked… perfect.Sharp suit. Fresh haircut. Clean lines. My heart ached just looking at him.But his eyes—those told a different story.Nervous. Stiff. Scared.“You okay?” I asked gently.He gave a short nod, jaw tight.I stepped closer, folding my arms. “It’s just dinner.”He looked at me in the mirror. “It’s dinner with your mother.”His voice was flat, but not cold. Just tired. Like he was already carrying too much and this was one more weight on his back.I didn’t blame him.“She’s not going to bite,” I offered, trying to lighten the mood.He raised an eyebrow. “You sure about that?”A laugh slipped from me before I could stop it. Then I moved behind him, wrapping my arms around his waist, resting my cheek against his back.“She doesn’t

Noah froze the moment the words left my mouth.“My mother wants to meet you.” I said again.His mouth dropped open, his eyes wide like I’d just told him I was pregnant with triplets or something. He didn’t speak. Didn’t move. Just stood there, blinking like someone had knocked the air out of him.I couldn’t help it—I nearly laughed. The look on his face was priceless.“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” I said, smiling gently.He blinked again, his brows pulling tight. “I just… why now?”His voice was quiet, like he wasn’t even talking to me, more like he was trying to solve a puzzle out loud.I could see it—the way his mind was spinning, trying to make sense of it. His fingers twitched at his sides like he wanted to run them through his hair. His lips moved like he was still calculating something he couldn’t quite figure out.I stepped closer, my bare feet soft against the floor, and cupped his face in my hands. His skin was warm. Familiar. Mine.“It’s just dinner,” I whispered.The

I woke up to the chill of an empty bed.Noah was gone.The pillow beside me was cold, like he’d been up for hours.My chest felt heavy. A slow ache started to bloom there, right behind my ribs. I stretched beneath the blanket, trying to shake it off. But it didn’t help. I knew exactly why I felt like this.I had to tell him.About my mother. About the invitation to dinner. The one that had been sitting in my phone like a bomb I was too afraid to open.But I didn’t know how to say it. It felt… wrong. Strange. Like pulling him into a world he’d finally escaped. And yet, it mattered. Maybe not to him, but to me. Because things were starting to feel real between us, and if we were going to survive this—us—then I had to be honest.I sighed and pushed the covers off me. The floor was cold beneath my feet, the silence in the room louder than it should’ve been.I pulled on one of Noah’s sweatshirts hanging on the chair. It still smelled like him—woodsy and clean, like pine after rain.I padde

I woke before the sun.The sky outside was still dark, painted in shades of grey and blue. The kind of quiet only early morning knew.Elena was curled up beside me, her hand resting lightly on my chest, her breath warm against my shoulder. Her face was soft in sleep. Peaceful. Safe.For a moment, I didn’t move. Just watched her. I let myself feel the weight of her trust—how far we’d come, how close I’d almost lost her.But something inside me twisted. A heavy knot I couldn’t shake.Like I’d left something undone. Something important.I needed to close that door before I could fully stand in the one she had opened for me.I moved slowly, careful not to wake her. I slid out from beneath the blanket, freshened up, and got ready to leave.On a piece of scrap paper, I scribbled:Be back soon. Needed to close a door.I folded it and left it by her phone.I stood there for a moment, staring down at her sleeping form. My heart tugged, wanting to stay. Wanting to forget the past and just live