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Home / MM Romance / The Way He Looked at Me / Chapter 21 - Chapter 30

All Chapters of The Way He Looked at Me: Chapter 21 - Chapter 30

96 Chapters

Chapter 21

Darkness closes in tighter as a single finger eases inside, retreating, returning, each time a little deeper. The stretch burns faintly, but beneath it is something else something that feels like a door opening inside me, something long locked giving way.I’m lost in it.And just when I start to adjust, when I think I understand the rhythm He withdraws.And comes back with more.Now I really feel it.The sensation doesn’t stay local it spreads, deep and consuming, a pressure that owns my whole body. More than stretch. More than heat. It’s full, deliberate, inescapable. His fingers move with slow precision, turning inside me, searching and then finding.A spark detonates somewhere deep.My vision bursts into constellations. Not just flashes a whole night sky, endless and black, lit with a thousand sharp stars. My breath breaks apart. I make a helpless sound, high and wrecked, but he doesn’t stop. Doesn’t slow.He keeps touching that place like he knows exactly how to unmake me

Chapter 22

Luca Moretti pov“What the hell…?” The words leave me rough, scraped raw.The haze of that earth-shattering high is gone. I’m back in my body, back in the room, and reality hits like a slap you don’t see coming.I let him shower first. Always do. There are rules unspoken, nonnegotiable. If a guy gives himself to you like that, you don’t act like an ass after. You be decent. You be gentle. You be better than you usually are.I come back from the bathroom, skin still damp, and stop dead.Tyler Bennett is in my bed.Curled on his side. Facing the wall. Blanket loose at his waist like he owns the place.“My bed’s a disaster zone,” he says calmly, like we’re discussing the weather. Doesn’t even look at me. “No way I’m sleeping in that. You can take it if you want. Otherwise…” A shrug in his voice. “…guess you’re stuck with me.”I exhale slowly through my nose, the sound sharp in the quiet room.It’s not the mess. It’s not even the principle.It’s him. In my space. Like he belongs there.

Chapter 23

Kids were everywhere sugar-crazed, shrieking, tearing across the ice like tiny demons with no sense of gravity. Every few seconds someone would go down, limbs flying, taking two or three others with them in a chain-reaction disaster.He’s still now. Eyes closed. Listening like the story weighs something. Like each word slots into place inside him.“I was terrified of falling,” I admit quietly. “Spent most of the party glued to the rink wall, inching along like a prisoner on a ledge.”Eventually, one of the rink workers skated over and handed me one of those plastic penguin frames.“I thought I’d won the lottery,” I say. “I was cruising. Actually feeling…okay.”A pause.“Then Josh yelled, ‘Look, Luca needs a baby penguin!’”Bennett makes a low, offended sound. “What a jerk.”“We don’t call kids that.”“You literally just insulted him.”“Different rules,” I murmur.He huffs a laugh against my chest, and the sound does something warm and strange under my ribs.“So what’d you do?” he asks

Chapter 24

Luca Moretti POVI don’t even need to open my eyes to know I’m in deep, irredeemable trouble. I’m trapped beneath him, almost swallowed whole by a guy who’s apparently decided I’m his mattress. And somehow… somehow, I’m clutching him like my life depends on it. My arms are locked around him, my face pressed against the side of his jaw. The instant I realize what I’m doing, I snap my head back, yanking my limbs free like I’m pulling away from a fire. Slowly, carefully, I slide my arm from under his neck, making damn sure I don’t wake him. He murmurs, low and soft, but doesn’t open his eyes. Thank whatever twisted luck exists for that.I stumble toward the bathroom, my body leading the way in all the wrong ways. Morning wood hard, threatening, defiant insists on making its presence known. Rock-hard. Weapon-ready, if society allowed that sort of thing. I try to reason with myself. Relax. It’s just morning wood. Totally normal. Except it’s not. Not really. There’s a hint of Tyler Bennett,

Chapter 25

Tyler Bennett POVThe arena pulses around us, a living, breathing beast. Coach’s pep talk fades behind the roar of adrenaline thrumming in my veins. Skates scrape ice, sticks clatter, and the low hum of macho bravado mixes with the scent of sweat and leather. I step out of the locker room and feel it the familiar fever, hot and compressed in my gear. Leggings, pads, helmet, skates they bind me, constrain me, and somehow ignite a craving I can’t name. Armor that keeps me safe yet makes me ache to move, to explode, to be uncontainable.I crave the puck drop like a lifeline. That first slice of skate against ice the resistance, the glide, the raw, violent grace of it all. The cold wind biting my face, the muscles springing into action, the shock of collision, the rush of the chase. Each moment a spark, a pulse, a release of every part of me tethered and restrained.The ice stretches below me like an infinite mirror, lights above fracturing into a galaxy of stars. The rumble of the crowd

Chapter 26

Luca Moretti POVHours after the final whistle, the noise is gone but the adrenaline isn’t. I’m back home, loose from a few victory beers, stretched out on my bed while the win still hums under my skin. My mind won’t shut up. So I scroll. Pointless. Desperate. Hunting.TikTok flickers past my eyes, swipe after swipe, and I pretend I don’t know exactly what I’m looking for. I do. I’ve known since the second I opened the app. A face. A body. Him.I saw the video weeks ago Tyler Bennett, shirtless in a hotel bathroom we once shared, gray sweatpants hanging low like a promise. I tell myself it’s stupid to look for it again. I’ve already watched it. This app doesn’t work like that. It won’t just hand it back to me.Still, I scroll like a man possessed, thumb burning, heart racing, risking a damn injury just to avoid doing the one thing that would make this easy going straight to his profile. Pathetic. He probably has thousands of eyes on him every day. Me checking wouldn’t mean a thing.And

Chapter 27

Tyler Bennett pov“Who’s down for dinner at my place next weekend?” I ask. “Friday night.”We’ve got the day off, and the next game’s at home perfect timing. Carter, Jace, and a handful of the guys are still hanging around after film review, dissecting last night’s game. For once, even Coach Santos struggled to find plays that weren’t lethal. That’s how good it was.The team thins out until only a few of us remain in the parking garage, engines rumbling, concrete echoing. And like always, Moretti stays on the edge of it all close enough to hear, far enough to remain untouched.“It’s Louis’s birthday,” Carter says. “But the next day off could work. Sunday. Following week.”“I’m in,” Derick says.“Is Beth coming?” Jace asks.“Doubt it,” I reply.“Why not? You should ask her. She’d have fun.”I snort. Sure. If fun means watching paint dry. But I don’t say that. I just shrug.Doors slam. Brake lights smear red across the concrete as everyone heads out, either confirmed or promising to cir

Chapter 28

Luca Moretti pov “I was right,” Bennett says as he saunters toward my car. Pale denim hugs his legs, the white puffer making his skin glow and his teeth blindingly white. Exactly what I didn’t need right now.“It’s a date,” he adds, resting an elbow casually on the open passenger window, leaning his head in.“Know how I know?”I don’t answer, and it doesn’t matter.“’Cause I changed my top twice before you got here… and I got butterflies when I heard the doorbell.”My stomach flips violently, betraying me. They’re not my butterflies. No, they’re his. Sympathetic butterflies. For fuck’s sake, that’s a thing, right?I have zero idea what to say. My turn, apparently. “Get your ass in here, Princess, before I change my mind,” I blurt.He hops in, buckling himself in, filling the car with the scent of him sharp, intoxicating, impossible to ignore.“Don’t talk dirty to me,” he murmurs, a husky purr that coils around my brain and won’t let go.His hooded green gaze pins me. Soft, yet laced

Chapter 29

“Hot chocolate was a big deal for us growing up,” he says, voice low, almost reverent. “Mom used to make it sometimes, and they’d tease us, forcing us to say chocolat like this…” He tilts his head back and does a truly terrible, phlegmy French accent. “…or we’d only get one marshmallow.”There’s a wistfulness in his tone, like he’s about to confess something deep. I shift in my seat, uncomfortable, acutely aware it’s my turn to speak. “They sound fun,” I manage.“Yeah. They were. Mom’s a doctor, Dad stayed home with us. If there’s a way to make life ridiculous, they’d find it. And once they commit to it, there’s no backing down. Beth refused the chocolat thing once, so they made us do it every time we had hot chocolate for fifteen years.”His smile tilts toward me now, genuine, like he’s trying to connect. My palms sweat. “I loved it,” he says.I know it’s my turn again. “What’s Beth like?”“She’s… great. Three years older, but she always felt ten. Super mature. She’s one of those peo

Chapter 30

“He just said… oh.”Bennett listens too closely. Like he’s leaning into my ribs, into my breath. It makes me feel unbalanced loose in my chest, unmoored all the way up to my tongue.“He came to my room later that night and said, ‘It’s fine to be gay, Luca. Just… don’t tell anyone.’”His head snaps back in shock, and suddenly I’m drowning in it his sympathy. It pours over me in waves. Thick. Suffocating. I hate it.“It’s not like that,” I rush out. Defensive. Sharp. “They’re not homophobic. Not really. They just care too much about what people think. About my career. Especially my dad. My mom too. They never wanted anything to mess with my shot at going pro.”“Is that why you never came out?” he asks softly. “Because of hockey? Do you really think it would change things if people knew?”I bark out a laugh. Bitter. “Yeah, baby bi boy, I really do. How many out gay men do you see in the NHL?”He looks away, lips twisting as he searches his memory. “Uh… there was that defenseman for the

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