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TWENTY EIGHT
Last Updated:
2025-05-05 00:30:51
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WRECK ME QUIETLY TWENTY NINE
SAMANTHAI lay on his chest, still catching my breath.His skin was warm beneath my cheek, rising and falling with each breath, steady like he hadn’t just wrecked me all over again.My legs still trembled, my lips were sore, and my heart was a chaotic drum in my chest.We were quiet for a long moment—just the hum of the AC and the wild silence that always came after Mason.I stared up at the ceiling, mascara smudged and thoughts spinning.“We can’t keep doing this,” I whispered.His fingers paused on my back, just for a second. Then he dragged them gently down my spine, like he hadn’t heard me. But I knew he had.“Why not?” His voice was low. Tired. Like he didn’t want to have this conversation.I exhaled, my throat tight. “Because of Macey.”That made him go still.“I feel like crap every time I see her,” I said. “Like she knows. Like she sees right through me.”He turned his head, looking at me, then reached up and brushed a strand of hair from my cheek. The softness in his touch ma
Last Updated : 2025-05-05WRECK ME QUIETLY THIRTY
SAMANTHAThe doorbell wouldn’t stop ringing.I groaned, dragging the covers over my head. It was still early, too early for anyone to be this persistent unless the building was on fire. And if it was, I was seriously considering letting it burn.More ringing.Whoever this was, they were about to meet a very cranky, very unshowered version of me.I staggered to the door and cracked it open.A guy in a navy delivery uniform stood there, holding the biggest bouquet of roses I’d ever seen. Behind it, he balanced a sleek, ribbon-wrapped hamper."Delivery for Samantha," he said cheerfully, clearly too awake for this hour.I blinked at him. "Are you sure? I didn’t order anything."He pointed at the tablet. "Says Samantha here. Want to sign?"Still half-asleep and fully confused, I signed.He handed over the bouquet and hamper with a grin. “Someone likes you.”I mumbled a half-thank you, kicked the door shut with my heel, and carried everything into the kitchen.“Who sends roses at eight in t
Last Updated : 2025-05-05WRECK ME QUIETLY THIRTY ONE
MASONI leaned against my car, arms folded, trying hard to look casual. Chill. Detached.But my eyes? They had a mind of their own.They were locked on the back seat of Macey’s car. I didn’t even blink as the door opened, and Samantha stepped out like slow-motion was made for her.That dress.Red. Short. Silk. Wrapped around her like it was hand-stitched by the devil.I didn’t recognize it. It was new.That was the first punch to the gut.The second?It was supposed to be for me.She wore it knowing exactly what it would do to me. And still… she slipped into it and strutted out like a fucking landmine.Every inch of her skin screaming danger, every sway of her hips screaming mine.But she didn’t look at me. Not once.She smoothed down her dress like it wasn’t already hugging her like a second skin, then tucked her hair behind her ear.Her lips were painted a glossy red, like she’d purposely left room for someone to imagine what they tasted like.And yeah—I imagined.I’d tasted.I swal
Last Updated : 2025-05-06WRECK ME QUIETLY THIRTY TWO
MASONThe crowd roared as I skated toward the rink entrance, stick resting across my shoulders, jersey sticking to my sweat-damp skin.My pulse was still high from the drills, but it wasn’t the game or the scouts that had me wired.My mind was still on Samantha.I’d seen her the moment she walked in.Even in the crowd, she stood out—red lips, calm eyes, arms folded like she wasn’t impressed with the chaos.She didn’t clap. Didn’t cheer. Just sat there, next to my family like she belonged.And she did.She always did.“Hey, baby,” Audrey said.I barely had time to react before she wrapped her arms around my neck and pulled me in for a kiss.Right in front of the crowd.The stands exploded with whoops and cheers. A whistle. Someone even yelled, “That’s our Captain!”I didn’t kiss her back.Didn’t even close my eyes.My jaw locked. My hands stayed at my sides. All I could think was—this isn’t right.I looked past Audrey’s cheek, scanning the stands.And there she was.Samantha.Watching.
Last Updated : 2025-05-06WRECK ME QUIETLY THIRTY THREE
SAMANTHALiam nudged me with his shoulder as we walked towards the lot, his voice light and smug. “So, just admit it, I made econ tolerable today.”I laughed under my breath. “You give yourself too much credit, Monez”He grinned like it was his proudest achievement. “Comic relief. Crucial in high-pressure academic settings.”I shook my head, but I couldn’t stop smiling. That was the thing about Liam, he always knew how to pull me out of my own head.Macey suddenly slid in beside us, sunglasses perched on top of her head and a smirk already locked and loaded. Who needs sunglasses at night?“You two need to stop making love faces,” she said, wiggling her brows. “Seriously, it’s nauseating.”Liam threw an arm dramatically around my shoulders. “We can’t help it. We’re hot like that.”I rolled my eyes and ducked out from under his arm. “Please. You wish.”Macey snorted. “That’s not a denial, Sam.”“It’s not a confirmation either,” I shot back.Liam bumped my hip. “Come on, we’d make a soli
Last Updated : 2025-05-07WRECK ME QUIETLY THIRTY FOUR
SAMANTHAI hadn’t even typed a reply when bam bam bam—loud, angry knocks rattled my front door.I froze.The knocking turned into pounding. Fist-to-wood, like someone was trying to come through it.“Sam!” he shouted. “Open the damn door. I know Liam’s there. I don’t care.”My heart climbed into my throat. I blinked. Once. Twice.This wasn’t happening.I checked my phone again. 1:17 AM.He was unhinged. No one sane showed up at someone’s door at that hour unless they were dying, or planning to kill someone.My phone buzzed again.Mason: “I’m not leaving until you talk to me.”Of course you aren’t.My gut screamed don’t open it. But apparently, my common sense was asleep because the next thing I knew, I was turning the knob.The second I cracked the door open, he was there, eyes wild, jaw tight. His shirt was wrinkled. His hair was messy, like he’d run his hands through it a hundred times.He looked…unraveled.“Mason,” I said, and instantly regretted it. His name tasted like trouble.“Wh
Last Updated : 2025-05-07WRECK ME QUIETLY THIRTY FIVE
SAMANTHASomething was burning.I shot up, heart racing, breath catching in my throat. The air was thick with smoke? No. Not smoke exactly. Toast. Burnt toast? Or eggs?I winced as pain shot through my thighs, hips, lower back—God. My entire body was wrecked. Every muscle throbbed with sore, satisfied protest.The sheets stuck to my skin, damp with sweat and the unmistakable scent of sex. Him. Me. Us. Twisted and tangled and stupid.How long did we even go last night?I glanced to my side.Empty.“Mason?” I called, voice hoarse.Nothing.Then—From the kitchen: a loud clang, followed by a muttered, “Shit. Shit, shit, shit.”I threw on the nearest shirt—his, of course. It swallowed me whole, hung past my thighs, and still smelled like him.I winced as I stood. Everything ached. My legs, my thighs, even muscles I didn’t know existed. Damn him.I padded into the kitchen, walking like someone who just ran a marathon in heels. And then I saw the smoke."Jesus!" I yelped.Mason stood by the
Last Updated : 2025-05-08WRECK ME QUIETLY THIRTY SIX
SAMANTHAWe spent the entire day wrapped in each other, laughing, kissing, eating, sleeping, and making love like we couldn't get enough.The world outside ceased to exist; it was just us in our little bubble.We didn’t leave the bed.The sheets were damp with sweat, twisted around our legs like restraints, like reminders of how far we’d gone. How far we kept going.His mouth moved over me like he was trying to erase every man before him—and maybe even himself. He kissed me like he hated me for how much he wanted me. And I let him.“You’re still sore,” he said, dragging his thumb across the bruise on my thigh.“I’m fine.”He smirked, dark and slow. “I like you like this.”“Like what?”“Messy. Ruined. Mine.”I should’ve pulled away. I should’ve said something.But I didn’t.He moved over me again, eyes locked to mine as he pushed in, deeper than before, slower. Crueler.There was something unhinged in the way he held my wrists down, not rough, but enough. Enough to remind me who was in
Last Updated : 2025-05-08
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WRECK ME QUIETLY FORTY TWO
SAMANTHAI know what you’re thinking.How foolish can she be?Trust me—I’ve thought it, too. Screamed it at myself, actually. In the mirror. In the shower. Into my pillow at 3 a.m.But this... whatever it is between me and Mason?It’s not normal.It’s not safe.It’s not healthy.It’s obsession.And I’m the idiot who keeps chasing it like it won’t set me on fire.The past week has been hell.He ghosted me. No texts. No calls. Not even one of those half-assed “thinking of you” emojis he used to send when he was pretending not to care too much. Just silence.And I hate how much I noticed it.How I kept checking my phone like it might suddenly ring.Like it might light up and show me his name.God.I’m pathetic.“I’m fine,” I told my best friend, even though my chest ached like he’d put his hands around it and squeezed.I lied through my teeth—said I was over him. Macey still believes I’ve not moved on from the holiday romance I had.Said I deleted his number.I didn’t.I stared at it ins
WRECK ME QUIETLY AUTHOR'S NOTE
To my ride-or-die readers...If you’ve made it this far in Samantha and Mason’s story, let me say this loud and clear: I love you. I appreciate you. You are the reason I keep writing.This story wasn’t always easy to write. Emotionally? It gutted me. Romantically? It consumed me. And creatively? It tested every part of me.But then I’d see a comment. A message. A view.And for a while, it kept me going. I was sitting at 75 views a day. Slowly growing. Slowly building.It wasn’t perfect, but it felt like momentum—like this little world I’d built was finally reaching people who felt it the way I did.Then came GoodNovel’s algorithm shift.Suddenly, my story dropped from 75 views a day… to 4.Four.And I’ll be honest—those few days crushed me. I stared at my screen wondering, What’s the point? I felt invisible. Like maybe I wasn’t good enough. Maybe this story wasn’t good enough. Maybe all those nights I stayed up writing scenes that made my chest ache and my heart race… meant nothing.B
WRECK ME QUIETLY FOURTY ONE
MASONI skated like I was trying to outrun my own goddamn thoughts.The second I was back on the ice, Coach blew the whistle, and drills started. I didn’t speak. Didn’t joke. Didn’t breathe right.I just hit.Hard.Every puck I launched cracked against the boards like a gunshot. Every turn I took was sharper than it needed to be. I played like I was chasing something that wouldn’t stop moving.Or maybe like it was chasing me.“Damn, Mase!” Tyler shouted, ducking when one of my slapshots rebounded too fast. “You good, bro?”I didn’t answer.I was not good.I was wrecked.My blood was still boiling. My hand still twitched from gripping my phone too tight. And I couldn’t stop seeing her in that red lace, half-dressed in temptation and staring straight at me like she owned my soul.She fucking did.And now I was just trying to survive forty minutes of practice without losing my shit in front of the team.Another shot. Too hard. It hit the net and bounced out with enough force to make the
WRECK ME QUIETLY FOURTY
MASONThe lounge smelled like sweat!!Practice was starting in ten. Everyone was wired. A month out from playoffs, and every guy in the room was either vibrating with nerves or pretending not to care.I sat on the bench, half-listening to the usual shit-talk.“Bet you miss again today, Collins,” Jake was saying. “Your slapshot couldn’t knock over a toddler.”“Keep dreaming, man,” Collins fired back. “At least I don’t skate like I’m drunk.”They laughed. I didn’t. I wasn’t in the mood.Then my phone buzzed.I almost didn’t look.But then I saw the name.Samantha.One notification. One photo.I tapped it open.And stopped breathing.Red lace. Garter belts. A full view of the body I hadn’t touched in days—her thighs, her waist, her. That look in her eyes. Fucking hell.I got hard immediately.Jaw clenched. Blood boiling.“Jesus Christ,” I muttered, angling the screen away before any of the guys could see.Jake leaned over. “Who’s got you looking like that?”“Mind your business.”“Oh shit
WRECK ME QUIETLY FOURTY
MASONThe lounge smelled like sweat!!Practice was starting in ten. Everyone was wired. A month out from playoffs, and every guy in the room was either vibrating with nerves or pretending not to care.I sat on the bench, half-listening to the usual shit-talk.“Bet you miss again today, Collins,” Jake was saying. “Your slapshot couldn’t knock over a toddler.”“Keep dreaming, man,” Collins fired back. “At least I don’t skate like I’m drunk.”They laughed. I didn’t. I wasn’t in the mood.Then my phone buzzed.I almost didn’t look.But then I saw the name.Samantha.One notification. One photo.I tapped it open.And stopped breathing.Red lace. Garter belts. A full view of the body I hadn’t touched in days—her thighs, her waist, her. That look in her eyes. Fucking hell.I got hard immediately.Jaw clenched. Blood boiling.“Jesus Christ,” I muttered, angling the screen away before any of the guys could see.Jake leaned over. “Who’s got you looking like that?”“Mind your business.”“Oh shit
WRECK ME QUIETLY THIRTY NINE
SAMANTHA“Hello, Angel.”What the hell?I stopped walking. Right there in the hallway, just outside my professor’s office.He called me angel.After eight days of silence. Eight days of pretending I didn’t exist. Eight days of ghosting me like I was just some side chick who got too attached.And now—now he wanted to pretend none of it happened?I clenched the phone so hard my knuckles turned white.Who even texts like that?Like the world didn’t stop spinning when he left me on read. Like I didn’t cry myself to sleep three nights in a row.Like I didn’t see him laughing with Audrey—her lipstick on his mouth, her nails on his chest. Her smirk.I swallowed the knot in my throat.No.I wasn’t doing this again.I didn’t open the message. I didn’t type back. I was not ready for Mason’s stress.Before I could take two steps, a hand wrapped around my arm and yanked me sideways, right into the empty corridor beside the stairwell.“Mason?” I gasped, stumbling as I whipped around. “What the act
WRECK ME QUIETLY THIRTY EIGHT
SAMANTHAHe ghosted me.He actually ghosted me.I paced my apartment like a crazy person, bare feet slapping against the cold floor, my phone clenched tight in my hand.A week. Seven full days. No text. No call. Not even a glance on campus. Just... silence.I stopped pacing long enough to glare at my phone. Still nothing."This is worse than when he used to pay me to sleep with him," I muttered, hurling the phone onto my bed like it had personally offended me.At least that had rules. At least I knew where I stood—on my back, on my knees, whatever. But this? This had felt like more. He made it feel like more. And now?Crickets.I dropped onto the edge of my bed, stomach knotted. My chest ached, and not the romantic, swoony kind. The kind that felt like something had hollowed me out and left the shell behind.The following day was supposed to be just another day. Another lecture. Another headache.Three hours of nonstop academic torture and all I wanted was coffee, a nap, and maybe fiv
WRECK ME QUIETLY THIRTY SEVEN
MASONI gripped the steering wheel tighter, knuckles white.The engine purred, ready to move, but I just sat there—her taste still on my tongue, her scent clinging to my skin like heat I couldn’t shake. My hands still remembered every curve. Every sound she made.Fuck.I didn’t want to go. Not yet. Maybe never.But Audrey was waiting. And I was still that guy, still halfway in, halfway out.My phone buzzed again. Audrey.I ignored it.I could not even give Sam a goodbye kiss.The way she didn’t say anything when I left. She didn’t have to.I slammed my hand against the steering wheel once. Quietly.“Get it together,” I muttered and drove away in silence.The moment I stepped into the apartment, I felt it.That shift. That kind of silence that didn’t feel peaceful. It felt like something waiting to explode.Audrey sat curled on the floor near the couch, her eyes swollen and red, mascara smeared down her cheeks. She didn’t look at me. She didn’t have to.“Don’t even ask,” she whispered
WRECK ME QUIETLY THIRTY SIX
SAMANTHAWe spent the entire day wrapped in each other, laughing, kissing, eating, sleeping, and making love like we couldn't get enough.The world outside ceased to exist; it was just us in our little bubble.We didn’t leave the bed.The sheets were damp with sweat, twisted around our legs like restraints, like reminders of how far we’d gone. How far we kept going.His mouth moved over me like he was trying to erase every man before him—and maybe even himself. He kissed me like he hated me for how much he wanted me. And I let him.“You’re still sore,” he said, dragging his thumb across the bruise on my thigh.“I’m fine.”He smirked, dark and slow. “I like you like this.”“Like what?”“Messy. Ruined. Mine.”I should’ve pulled away. I should’ve said something.But I didn’t.He moved over me again, eyes locked to mine as he pushed in, deeper than before, slower. Crueler.There was something unhinged in the way he held my wrists down, not rough, but enough. Enough to remind me who was in
