บททั้งหมดของ PUCK ME, STEPBROTHER: บทที่ 61 - บทที่ 70

DistanceBryson's POVA few days pass after the kiss, and neither of us brings it up. The silence around it feels deliberate, like we both agreed without words to pretend it never happened.But the air between Julian and me has changed. It's heavier now,We exist in the same space but maintain careful distance. Polite conversations about practice schedules and grocery lists. Nothing beyond that, surface-level stuff.I throw myself into practice, spending extra hours on the ice even when my legs burn and my lungs scream for rest. Coach notices and comments approvingly, thinking I'm dedicated. The truth is I just need somewhere to channel all this restless frustration.I laugh with teammates, joke around in the locker room, and try to look completely unaffected.But it's pointless. The memory of that kiss keeps replaying at random moments. During drills, I'll remember the heat of Julian's mouth. In the shower, I'll think about the weight of his hands gripping my wrist. Late at night, ly

ArrangementBryson's POVA few days pass, and Julian still hasn't mentioned my offer. He hasn't brought it up at all, acting like the conversation never happened.I tell myself that's a good thing. The offer was impulsive, something I shouldn't have suggested in the first place. It'll only cause more confusion between us, blur the lines that should stay clear.But part of me keeps waiting. Watching for some sign that he's thinking about it, that he wants what I offered.Training is intense now, everyone is focused as we push toward the next stretch of games. Coach has us scheduled for three games every weekend, back-to-back matches that will test our stamina and teamwork. The pressure is mounting; scouts are watching, and regional selections are looming.But I can't shake the restless tension inside me that has nothing to do with hockey.It's exhausting and exhilarating at the same time.After one of our weekend games, the locker room is heavy with defeat. We lost by two points; our r

𝘔𝘰𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘑𝘶𝘭𝘪𝘢𝘯'𝘴 𝘗𝘖𝘝𝘉𝘳𝘺𝘴𝘰𝘯 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘳 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘴𝘵, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘐 𝘤𝘢𝘯'𝘵 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘱 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘵𝘤𝘩 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘰𝘮. 𝘔𝘺 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘱𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘪𝘵'𝘴 𝘵𝘳𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘬 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘺 𝘳𝘪𝘣𝘴, 𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘤𝘪𝘱𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘯𝘦𝘳𝘷𝘦𝘴 𝘮𝘪𝘹𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰𝘨𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳.𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘳𝘶𝘯𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘧𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘰𝘰𝘮, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘮𝘺 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘮𝘮𝘦𝘥𝘪𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘺 𝘨𝘰𝘦𝘴 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘦𝘴 𝘪𝘵 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥𝘯'𝘵. 𝘐𝘮𝘢𝘨𝘦𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘉𝘳𝘺𝘴𝘰𝘯, 𝘯𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘱𝘳𝘢𝘺, 𝘸𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘳𝘶𝘯𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘥𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘬𝘪𝘯, 𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘢𝘮 𝘧𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘮𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘴𝘱𝘢𝘤𝘦.𝘐 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘮𝘺 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥, 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘤𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘺𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧 𝘵𝘰 𝘧𝘰𝘤𝘶𝘴 𝘰𝘯 𝘮𝘺 𝘱𝘩𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘢𝘥. 𝘚𝘤𝘳𝘰𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘪𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘐 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘶𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵, 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵 𝘮𝘺𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧.

SecretsBryson's POVBack home, campus life resumes its familiar rhythm. Classes, practices, exams. The routine should feel normal, grounding after the intensity of the away games.But the secret between Julian and me grows heavier with each passing day.We sneak around more often now. A kiss in the locker room when everyone else has cleared out. Quickies in Julian's car parked in dark corners of the lot. Late-night visits to each other's rooms that start with studying and end with us tangled up under sheets.I keep telling myself it's just part of our agreement. We're exploring physical attraction without emotional complications, as we agreed.But the way Julian looks at me afterward makes it impossible to believe that lie.I pretend not to notice because acknowledging it would mean dealing with feelings I'm not ready to faceOur teammates start commenting on our chemistry on the ice. The passes that connect perfectly without verbal communication, and how we anticipate each other's m

Caught red-handed.Julian's POVI feel like I'm living two lives.There's the one everyone sees: the responsible son, the decent student, the team captain. The guy who shows up on time, does what's expected, keeps his shit together.And then there's the other life. The one where I'm losing my mind over a guy I can't stop thinking about. Where every conversation feels loaded.The distance between those two versions of myself is killing me.After the disaster with Ashley and the awkward confrontation with Bryson, I try to stay busy. Avoid him in every way possible. I take longer routes to class so I won't run into him in the hallways. Eat meals at different times. Stay late at the gym when I know he'll be home.But the distance only makes me more restless. Every time our eyes meet across the rink or when we pass in the apartment, something twists inside me. Want mixed with guilt mixed with frustration at this whole fucked up situation.Bryson doesn't push. Doesn't corner me or demand ex