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Chapter 14

Penulis: D.Twister
last update Tanggal publikasi: 2026-07-03 13:56:56

I sat at the kitchen island, staring at the harsh, glaring screen of my phone until my eyes actually burned.

The black coffee in my mug had gone cold hours ago, but I kept lifting it to my lips anyway, just to have something to do with my hands and keep them from shaking.

Outside the floor-to-ceiling windows, the morning sun was trying to break through the gray city clouds, but the only thing I could focus on was the absolute circus parked on the street below.

There were at least three local
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  • Pucking the Captain   Chapter 20

    I never thought I’d see the day where Jaxson Mercer looked this peaceful, but as the morning sun filtered through the heavy hotel curtains, he was completely dead to the world. I lay on my side, propped up on my good elbow, just watching the steady rise and fall of his broad chest, and I realized that even in his sleep, his heavy arm was still draped securely over my waist, keeping me anchored to his side like he was terrified I’d vanish if he let go. It was a small, quiet detail, but it made my heart swell with this massive, overwhelming wave of affection that I couldn’t quite contain. Carefully, so I wouldn’t wake him, I slipped out from under his arm and grabbed the first aid kit from the bathroom. I sat on the edge of the tub, gently taking his large, resting hand in mine, and started dabbing antiseptic onto his split, blistered knuckles. He didn’t even stir, just let out a low, gravelly hum and shifted closer, his forehead coming to rest against my shoulder. I cleaned the d

  • Pucking the Captain   Chapter 19

    The digital clock on the nightstand glowed a harsh, bloody red in the pitch-black room: 2:43 AM. I was sitting on the edge of the mattress, an ice pack strapped loosely to my bad wrist, just staring at the blank wall opposite me. The hotel room was suffocatingly quiet, save for the hum of the mini-fridge and the ragged, uneven sound of my own breathing. I was exhausted, my muscles aching from the brutal game against Cornell, but my brain was completely hijacked by the ghost of three little words. *I love you.* He had said them in the dark, his voice so soft and automatic it had shattered my entire world, and then he had turned his back and walked out like I was nothing. I had spent the last twenty-four hours replaying that moment, tearing it apart, trying to figure out if it was just a slip of the tongue or if he actually meant it. But the cold shoulder he’d been giving me since the mixer told me everything I needed to know. He was terrified, and he was going to push me away to

  • Pucking the Captain   Chapter 18

    The rhythmic, violent thwack of the puck hitting the boards was the only sound echoing through the massive, empty arena. It was two in the morning, the campus ice rink was freezing, and the air smelled sharply of Zamboni exhaust and stale cold, but I didn’t give a single fuck. I just kept skating. I pushed off my blades, dug my stick into the ice, and fired another slap shot at the net, watching the puck ripple the mesh before I chased it down and did it all over again. My lungs were burning with a vicious, icy fire, and my legs felt like they were filled with lead, but the physical exhaustion was the only thing keeping me from losing my absolute mind. Inside my gloves, the skin on my palms was blistered and raw, weeping blood every time the friction of the stick rubbed against my grip, but I barely even felt it. The physical pain was nothing compared to the massive, suffocating guilt crushing my chest. Every time I closed my eyes, all I could see was Jules’s face in the dark.

  • Pucking the Captain   Chapter 17

    The morning after Jaxson slipped those three little words and then practically fled the bedroom, the air in his apartment was so thick with unspoken tension I could barely breathe. He moved around the kitchen like a ghost, his eyes fixed firmly on the coffee maker, his jaw locked so tight I thought his teeth might crack. He didn’t look at me, he didn’t touch me, and he definitely didn’t repeat what he’d said in the dark. He just handed me my travel mug, muttered something about the bus leaving in ten minutes, and walked out the door. It was a massive, suffocating rejection, and it left a hollow, aching bruise right in the center of my chest that no amount of ibuprofen could fix. Because of his suspension, Jaxson wasn’t allowed to suit up for the away game against Cornell, but as the captain, he was still required to travel with the team. I sat near the back of the chartered bus, my bad arm resting heavily in its sling, staring out the window at the gray, blur of the highway. Wh

  • Pucking the Captain   Chapter 16

    The room was completely dark, the only sound the soft, rhythmic drumming of rain against the bedroom window and the quiet, even breathing of the boy tangled in my arms. The air still smelled heavy with sex and sweat, a thick, intoxicating reminder of the desperate, bruising way I had just claimed him. I lay on my back, staring up at the shadowed ceiling, with Jules sprawled half on top of me, his head resting on my chest and his good leg thrown over my hip. His skin was warm and slick against mine, and every time he exhaled, his breath ghosted over my collarbone, sending a fresh wave of possessive, terrifying affection crashing through my chest. I had tried so damn hard to keep my walls up. I had tried to be the cold, rational captain who protected his rookie from the circus I had created, but the second I saw him at that mixer, letting some random lacrosse prick touch him, every single logical thought I had ever possessed had burned to ash. I was weak for him. I was completely,

  • Pucking the Captain   Chapter 15

    Three days. That was exactly how long Jaxson had been treating me like a inconvenient roommate instead of the guy he was supposedly obsessed with. He slept on the couch, he ate his meals in silence, and every time I tried to talk to him, he hit me with that cold, impenetrable wall of ice, talking only about practice, film sessions, or the NCAA investigation. It was driving me absolutely insane, and the dull, throbbing ache in my broken wrist was nothing compared to the massive, suffocating hole he was tearing in my chest. I was hurting, I was confused, and my bratty, stubborn side was finally waking up to fight back. If he wanted to play the cold, untouchable captain, I was going to show him exactly what it felt like to lose control.The annual end-of-semester hockey mixer was in full swing at the off-campus frat house, the bass from the speakers vibrating right through the floorboards, but I wasn’t here to party. I was here to make a point. I had spent an extra twenty minutes get

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