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CHAPTER 73 - STOP
publish date:
2026-03-31 02:36:44
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PUCKED BY MY STEPBROTHER: A FORBIDDEN HOCKEY ROMANCE CHAPTER 141 - STEPDAD'S SON
Same rink. Same stands. Same seat.I was in the third row from the glass, laptop open on a document I wasn’t going to work on because the two people on the ice below me were making it impossible to look at anything else. The rink was empty – Rhys had booked it through some favour Cole owed the facilities manager, an hour of private ice that was supposed to be for his recovery skating and was currently being used to teach a thirteen-year-old how to shoot the puck like a professional.Miles was in full gear. Borrowed from the equipment room – the same equipment room that contained lockers and codes and the physical evidence of a sabotage that felt, from this seat, like it had happened in a different lifetime. Miles didn’t know any of that. He just knew the gear fit and the ice was empty and Rhys Maddox was standing behind him adjusting his stick grip with the patience of a man who had somewhere important to be and had decided that this was it.“Weight on your back foot. Not your front –
PUCKED BY MY STEPBROTHER: A FORBIDDEN HOCKEY ROMANCE CHAPTER 140 - ORDINARY TUESDAYS
He put a watermelon in the cart.Not a small one. The kind that required both arms to lift, which he did – cast-free, finally – with the deliberate showmanship of a man proving to himself and the produce section that both hands worked.He set it in the cart next to the eggs and the milk and the blue-label penne and looked at me like he’d solved world hunger.“We don’t need a watermelon.”“Everybody needs a watermelon.”“It’s November.”“Watermelon doesn’t have a season, Naomi. It has a vibe.”I took it out. He put it back. I took it out. He put it back and then stood between me and the cart with his arms crossed and the grin – the real one, the one that cracked his face open and made him look nineteen – and I left the watermelon in the cart because the grin was worth eleven dollars and forty-nine cents of fruit we wouldn’t finish.He also put in three bags of a protein powder that smelled like chalk and optimism. A jar of pickles neither of us ate. A cheese I couldn’t pronounce. Two e
PUCKED BY MY STEPBROTHER: A FORBIDDEN HOCKEY ROMANCE CHAPTER 139 - REAL
NAOMI'S POVThe cast came off on a Wednesday and by Thursday night his hands were on my face.Both of them.I watched him flex the left one in the car outside the orthopaedic clinic – open, close, open, the tendons moving stiff under skin that was pale from weeks under plaster. The fingers slower than the right. Slightly swollen at the knuckles. Him rebuilding his grip strength one squeeze at a time.By the time we got to his apartment I could feel the wanting coming off him like a frequency. But this time it was different. He was patient and careful, like I was made of something that might shatter.We got through the door.His hands – both – on my face before the door clicked shut. The left one slightly stiff, the grip uneven, the fingers pressing harder than they needed to because they were relearning pressure after weeks of nothing. The right one steady, certain, the thumb sliding along my jaw the way it always had. Both hands framing my face the way I’d been dreaming about since a
PUCKED BY MY STEPBROTHER: A FORBIDDEN HOCKEY ROMANCE CHAPTER 138 - THE LOOK
RHYS’ POVThe cast itched. All the time. Deep underneath the plaster where my fingers couldn’t reach. I’d been shoving a pen cap under the edge for twenty minutes, trying to get at the spot near my wrist, and the TV was on and I couldn’t tell you what was playing if you paid me.She was on the other end of the couch. My hoodie. Laptop open on something she wasn’t typing. Every few minutes her eyes moved from the screen to me. To my hand working the pen cap. To my jaw. I could feel it tightening and she could see it tightening and neither of us was saying the thing the room was filling up with.I wanted to touch her. Hadn’t stopped wanting since the hospital bed when she climbed in beside me and my good arm went around her and every nerve ending in my skin remembered what it had been missing. But the cast turned everything into a negotiation I kept losing. I’d reach for her waist and the plaster would knock her hip. Try to pull her closer and the weight would drag my arm down. My left
PUCKED BY MY STEPBROTHER: A FORBIDDEN HOCKEY ROMANCE CHAPTER 137 - PERMISSION
Richard showed up at Rhys’s apartment with groceries.I heard the knock from the kitchen where I was reheating soup Sienna had dropped off. Two raps. Even spacing. I opened the door and Richard was standing there with two paper bags from the expensive market on Fifth. The one that charged eleven dollars for orange juice and had a cheese counter that required a number.He didn’t greet me. Walked past with the hospital nod – the new one – and went straight to the fridge. Started unpacking. Milk, full fat, replacing the expired carton I’d been meaning to toss. Eggs. Bread. Penne rigate with the blue label. My pasta. The brand I always used. The one I’d been making in this kitchen since the first night I cooked for Rhys and oversalted everything and he ate it anyway.Richard Maddox had noticed which pasta I bought and purchased it without saying a word. That was his version of an apology. Groceries instead of sentences. Provisions in place of the words his mouth couldn’t manage because hi
PUCKED BY MY STEPBROTHER: A FORBIDDEN HOCKEY ROMANCE CHAPTER 136 - THE LETTERS
Miles had the letter open on the kitchen table when I walked in.Not the first time he’d read it – I could tell from the creases. The paper had been folded and unfolded so many times the seams were soft, the ink slightly smudged where his thumb kept pressing against the same line. He was sitting in the chair he always sat in. The one closest to the fridge. His hot chocolate untouched. His face doing the thing thirteen-year-old faces did when the feelings were too big for the infrastructure – cycling through expressions too fast to land on any of them.I sat across from him. Didn’t ask. Waited. He slid it over.Caleb’s handwriting. Neat. Controlled. Even his penmanship performed.I’m sorry I used you. You deserved a real friend, not a chess piece. The skates, the practices, the texts – some of it was real. That’s the part I’m most ashamed of, because the real parts were what made the fake parts work. Don’t grow up to be me.I read it and something moved in my chest that I didn’t expect
PUCKED BY MY STEPBROTHER: A FORBIDDEN HOCKEY ROMANCE CHAPTER 42 - HALF THE STORY
I sat in the driveway for eleven minutes before I could make my hands stop shaking long enough to turn off the engine.My mom's voice was still in my ears – how COULD you and I'm finally happy and fix it – playing on a loop that got louder every time I tried to think past it. I'd driven here becaus
Last Updated : 2026-03-31PUCKED BY MY STEPBROTHER: A FORBIDDEN HOCKEY ROMANCE CHAPTER 52 - 2AM
I couldn't sleep.Twelve days on my childhood bed and I still couldn't sleep in it. The mattress remembered a version of me that didn't exist anymore – the fifteen-year-old version that was grieving and small enough to curl into the corner and disappear. The woman lying in it now was too big for th
Last Updated : 2026-04-05PUCKED BY MY STEPBROTHER: A FORBIDDEN HOCKEY ROMANCE CHAPTER 53 - MOM
She was sitting at the kitchen table when I came downstairs.Coffee in front of her. Both hands wrapped around the mug. Not drinking – holding. The way people hold things when they need an anchor and the nearest one is ceramic. She was wearing the flannel pajamas again. Second day in a row. Whateve
Last Updated : 2026-04-05PUCKED BY MY STEPBROTHER: A FORBIDDEN HOCKEY ROMANCE CHAPTER 50 - THE CALLS
My childhood bedroom was a museum of a girl who no longer existed.Participation trophies from softball lined the shelf above my desk – the sport I'd quit at fifteen when Dad died and everything that wasn't survival stopped mattering. A cork board above my bed still pinned with movie tickets and ph
Last Updated : 2026-04-04
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