LOGINI’m Connor Macleod—captain of the college hockey team, campus golden boy, the guy who never has to try too hard. After the whole scandal freshman year—when a drunken video outing me went viral and everyone suddenly knew the captain of the hockey team was gay—I expected to lose everything. But the opposite happened. My teammates had my back. The campus didn’t care. If anything, people accepted me more than I ever expected. So yeah, being openly gay was never the problem. Catching feelings? That’s the part I’ve always avoided. And Maxime Tremblay?He was supposed to be the same as every other guy. A one night stand Except one night turned into weeks. And somewhere between his sharp tongue, his stupidly cute beanies, and the way he looks at me like he actually sees me and I forgot the rules. He thought we were becoming something real. And I let him believe it… right up until the night I proved him wrong in the worst possible way. The problem is, for years I thought I wanted someone else. Tyson Bennett—the guy I chased, the one I was sure would finally make me feel something real. The guy who was supposed to end my endless string of hookups. But when I finally got him?It didn’t feel right. Now Maxime hates me. He won’t look at me. Won’t talk to me. Won’t give me the time of day. And for the first time in my life… I actually care. Because I don’t want Tyson anymore. I don’t want another meaningless night. I want the guy with the beanies, the sharp mouth, and the heart I shattered. And this time? I’m going to fight like hell to win him back.
View MorePOV: ConnorHangovers at Northpoint aren’t just a consequence—they’re biblical. It’s the kind of punishment that makes you want to call your mother and apologize for everything you’ve ever done, even the stuff you haven’t gotten caught for.My mouth tastes like stale beer and regret. My head feels like a hockey team used it as a shooting target. Light stabs me right in the eyes, a personal vendetta from the sun itself, and my phone is buzzing with more notifications than a Vegas slot machine on a hot streak.I’m not dead, but my dignity probably is.I groan, roll over, and swipe at my phone like it personally offended me. My lock screen is a graveyard of team group chat memes, DMs from people whose names I can’t remember, and one from my mother reminding me to hydrate.I briefly consider dying in bed just to avoid the pain of verticality, but the ache in my stomach and my bladder make that impossible.The night before comes back in flashes—bass vibrating up through the floor, beer slo
Maxime PovThe Northpoint house party is a beast all its own—a living, sweating, pulsing animal with bad intentions and zero chill. Every breath I take is thick with cheap beer, tequila fumes, and too many different brands of overpriced cologne.It’s sensory overload—the walls vibrate with bass so heavy it shakes my insides, lights flicker strobe patterns over faces I mostly recognize and wish I didn’t.Navigating this place is war; shoulders bump mine, someone spills a drink down my arm, and my boots stick to floors that haven’t seen a mop since move-in day.The whole place of alcohol.I spot Simone before she sees me—of course she's claimed the best seat in the house. She’s perched on a barstool in the kitchen, legs crossed with all the careless confidence of a girl who’s never had to beg for attention in her life.Her dark hair falls glossy over her face, and she's holding court with a pack of drooling sophomore boys who can’t tell if they want to worship her or get out of her way.
POV: Connor Macleod There are two kinds of mistakes you can make at a Northpoint party. The ones you regret the next morning… and the ones that ruin your life in the best possible way.“I should have stayed home that night. If I had, I wouldn’t have walked into that crowded Northpoint party. And I definitely wouldn’t have met the only person who made my blood boil .”The music is too loud. The air smells like sweat and cheap cologne. The floor is sticky from spilled beer, and the whole place feels like it’s shaking from the bass.Something always happens at these parties. I’ve been to too many of them over the past few years. At this point they all blend together—flashing lights, loud music, people dancing in dark corners, the smell of beer and vodka energy drinks.Random faces, loud laughter. Hookups I barely remember.Usually I just move through the night on autopilot, smiling at the right people and saying the right things.But not tonight.Tonight my attention is locked on one p
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