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Chapter 9

last update Last Updated: 2026-02-02 17:52:25

Luca Moretti pov

For the record, I knew going to Bennett’s room was a mistake. I knew it the second the thought crossed my mind. But I was furious shaking with it and still wrecked from what had happened. I needed somewhere to dump the rage before it ate me alive.

I told myself I’d just scare him a little. Maybe shove him into a wall. Maybe a slap or two. Nothing serious. Nothing that would actually hurt him. Just enough to make those sharp eyes light up, just enough friction to remind me I was
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  • The Way He Looked at MeĀ Ā Ā Chapter 16

    What the fuck are those?ā€ I blurt before I can stop myself.He doesn’t look at me, gaze fixed a few inches to my left. ā€œThey’re pajamas, Bennett. Sleepwear. To avoid making others uncomfortable.ā€ā€œHate to break it to you, bud, but those aren’t pajamas. They’re jammies.ā€He says nothing, but a tiny exhale slips past his lips silent judgment for my insolence. Then, in that infuriatingly precise way of his, he gestures primly toward the bathroom. Posture stiff, almost ceremonious, like a man who’s attended black-tie galas in another life.The bathroom itself is spotless. Floors gleam. Sink, shower, everything wiped immaculate. Toiletries tucked neatly. Only the damp towels and a faint scent of citrus and man musk betray his presence.I have nothing better to do, so I shower. Again. Even though I just scrubbed off the rink sweat, even though two showers this close together feel absurd. But I don’t care. Because in a few minutes, he’ll step out. And whatever that is, whatever tension coils

  • The Way He Looked at MeĀ Ā Ā Chapter 15

    Luca Moretti povShort story: I owe Tyler Bennett ten thousand dollars. And I hate it.Not to shame anyone, but when you insist on parading around hotel rooms in nothing but tight boxer briefs and the sluttiest, most distracting socks known to man…this is the exact shit that happens.It wasn’t just the socks though, yeah, they were a problem. White knit. Snug. Two perfect blue lines circling the cuff like they were made to draw your eyes upward. The way they hugged his calves, an inch below the curve of muscle. Shadows dipping and disappearing as he moved. Shadows that tempted, tormented, branded my mind. Shadows that spelled my name across every wall, every corner, every inch of this room.Now he’s on his knees, cheerful, wiping long streaks of me off the floor with balled-up toilet paper. And I’m collapsed in the armchair, utterly spent, legs splayed, twice failing miserably to sit upright.ā€œI take cash or check,ā€ he says, almost teasing. ā€œPayPal, Venmo, Zelle…honestly, any cash app

  • The Way He Looked at MeĀ Ā Ā Chapter 14

    Luca Moretti povIf fuck around and find out had a face, it would be mine.Same mouth. Same nose. Same body built for bad decisions. Same hardheaded stupidity that refuses to learn even when the lesson comes with teeth. I’ve done this before don’t get it twisted. I know this road. I know the ending.It’s ugly.It always is.Getting tangled up with someone like Bennett is a worst-case scenario. Strip away the Bennett of it which you can’t and he’s still my teammate. One of the guys I’ll see nearly every day for months. There’s no dodging him. No clean exits. We’re barely four weeks into the season, and it stretches out ahead of us like a punishment: practices, flights, locker rooms, team dinners.Endless.A minefield I have to cross with my eyes open.What the hell was I thinking?I should have my head checked. Seriously. Locked in a room until I stop self-sabotaging. Because that’s what this is me taking a blowtorch to the boundaries I spent years building. Lines I needed to survive.

  • The Way He Looked at MeĀ Ā Ā Chapter 13

    ā€œShow me your dick.ā€And I know whatever he’s about to do next will finish what he started.I don’t say a word as I hook my thumbs into my waistband and push my boxer briefs down.I’m painfully hard. So much it burns. I hiss, teeth clenched, when the elastic drags over the swollen head too slow, too rough. Every nerve screams.Moretti leans in.He’s so close his eyes swallow everything else dark, endless, inescapable.ā€œYou’re a mess, Princess,ā€ he says softly. Almost gentle.I nod. Unsteady.He smiles.He lifts his hand, studies it, then drags his tongue across his palm slow, deliberate from wrist to fingertips. Then he reaches between my legs and closes his hand around me without warning.The world detonates.Every nerve ignites. Pleasure slams through me so violently I don’t even have time to breathe before it tears me apart. I come instantly so hard it folds me in half. I crash forward onto my hands and elbows, choking on the sound that rips out of me as my body convulses.I’m wre

  • The Way He Looked at MeĀ Ā Ā Chapter 12

    Tyler Bennett povOne of the most mortifying moments of my life happened years ago nineteen, stupid, and lying half-naked on a doctor’s table because I’d decided, for reasons I still can’t explain, to go commando on the day my groin decided to swell like a warning sign from hell.I didn’t think about the exam. Didn’t think about exposure. Didn’t think at all.Not until the zipper came down.The memory still burns hot, sticky humiliation crawling over my skin as I realized there was nothing between me and the fluorescent lights. The doctor froze. I froze. My dignity died quietly on that table. For years, that image has haunted me at the worst possible times when I’m drifting off to sleep, buttoning a tux, even once mid-sentence while meeting my girlfriend’s parents.I thought that was rock bottom.I was wrong.Because now, Luca Moretti is sitting across the room.He’s planted in the armchair by the window, freshly showered, smelling like wild mint and citrus clean, sharp, infuriating.

  • The Way He Looked at MeĀ Ā Ā Chapter 11

    Luca Moretti povDetroit ice. Third period. Deadlocked at two–two.The Blackbirds are monsters this season fast, brutal, merciless. They were monsters last season too. Even if Bennett and I could summon whatever magic ignited between us in practice yesterday and we haven’t there’s no guarantee it would be enough. This game has been a grind from the opening faceoff. Stop. Start. Reset. Again. And far too much of it has been played in our end.The only reason we’re still breathing is our goalie. Bennett’s been unreal. An iron wall. A slab of reinforced glass. He’s moving like the universe bends for him, seeing pucks before they exist, stopping shots that should have torn the net apart. Without him, we’d already be buried.The pressure never lets up. Their Jaces crash into ours in a violent, grinding war along the boards. Every second stretches, every minute drags and in hockey, a minute is an eternity when you’re hanging on by your teeth.I’m on the bench, chugging water, pulse hammeri

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