CHAPTER 2

Adrian’s breath stalled in his throat. His pulse hammered violently, his fingers twitching at his sides as his mind struggled to process the nightmare standing in front of him.

Julian Carter.

It wasn’t possible. It couldn’t be him.

Yet there he was, leaning lazily against the hotel doorframe, wearing that smug, infuriating smirk that Adrian had seen too many times on the ice.

Julian. His biggest rival. His enemy. The guy he hated more than anyone.

The same Julian he had unknowingly fantasized about for months.

Adrian’s stomach twisted, a sick wave of realization crashing over him. His throat went dry. His body tensed.

Julian exhaled slowly, arms crossed over his bare chest, looking completely at ease.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” he murmured, tilting his head slightly.

Adrian couldn’t fucking move.

Julian was MidnightViper. The faceless creator Adrian had been obsessed with. The guy whose videos he had watched again and again, whose voice had sent a shiver down his spine.

The person he had messaged, hoping for something wild, something reckless.

And now that person was Julian.

The same Julian who had spent years ruining his career, stealing his victories, rubbing his face in every single loss.

The anger came first—hot and blinding.

Then came the humiliation.

Because Julian knew.

He fucking knew.

Julian had to know how much Adrian had wanted him. How many times he’d watched those damn videos. How many times he had gotten off to them.

And Julian was enjoying this.

Adrian’s jaw locked. He should leave. Turn around and pretend this never happened.

But Julian’s smirk deepened, his eyes gleaming with something dangerous. Like he was waiting for Adrian to break.

And fuck that.

Adrian forced himself to breathe, his voice coming out low, sharp. “You set me up.”

Julian arched an eyebrow. “Did I?”

Adrian’s fingers curled into fists. He was seconds away from throwing a punch or shoving Julian against the wall—he didn’t know which.

Julian hummed, gaze lazily dragging over Adrian like he was nothing more than entertainment.

“You sent the message, Calloway. You came to me.”

Adrian’s blood roared. “You knew who I was,” he snapped. “You knew and you fucking played me.”

Julian tsked under his breath. “Now, why would I do that?”

Adrian gritted his teeth. “Because you’re a manipulative asshole.”

Julian exhaled through his nose, stepping forward, forcing Adrian to either back up or stand his ground.

Adrian didn’t move.

“You’re giving me too much credit,” Julian murmured. “If you hadn’t messaged first, I wouldn’t have even known you were into me.”

Adrian’s stomach turned. His face burned.

“I’m not into you,” he growled.

Julian’s smirk widened. “No? Then what do you call all those late-night visits?”

Adrian’s skin prickled. He fucking hated him.

Julian leaned in just slightly, his voice dropping to something smoother, softer. Darker.

“All those comments?” His breath ghosted against Adrian’s cheek. “The way you watched every single one of my videos?”

Adrian saw red.

His fingers twitched, his body screaming to do something, anything to shut Julian up.

Julian tilted his head, watching him with sharp, knowing eyes.

“Tell me, Calloway,” he murmured. “Did you get off to my voice, or was it my hands?”

Adrian snapped.

His hand shot out, grabbing Julian by the collar, yanking him close.

Julian didn’t flinch. If anything, his smirk widened.

“That’s more like it.”

Adrian’s pulse pounded in his skull, his entire body vibrating with rage, frustration, and something else he refused to name.

“You’re a sick fuck, you know that?”

Julian let out a slow, almost amused breath. His hands gripped Adrian’s wrists, but he didn’t push him off.

“And yet, you’re still here.”

Adrian let out a shaky breath, grip tightening. Julian’s chest rose and fell steadily beneath his fingers, and fuck—this was too close, too real.

Julian was watching him too carefully, reading him too easily.

Adrian’s breathing turned ragged. He should have punched him. Should have done anything other than stand here, staring, breathing, feeling.

Julian’s lips parted slightly, his tongue darting out just briefly to wet them, and Adrian’s gaze dropped.

Fuck.

Julian let out a soft chuckle, voice dropping lower. “What’s wrong? Cat got your tongue?”

Adrian’s entire body burned with frustration, rage—and something else.

“I hate you,” Adrian snarled.

Julian didn’t even blink. If anything, his expression darkened, eyes locked onto Adrian’s lips for just a second too long.

Adrian felt his pulse skip. No. No fucking way.

Julian leaned in again, deliberately slow, his breath hot against Adrian’s skin.

“Then prove it,” Julian whispered.

Adrian’s grip tightened, chest heaving.

A breath. A pause. A war.

And then—

Adrian shoved him hard.

Julian staggered back, but his smirk never faded. If anything, it widened, like he had just won something.

Adrian’s breath came fast and uneven. He needed to get out of here. Now.

“This was a mistake,” Adrian muttered. His voice was raw, strained.

Julian tilted his head. Like he could hear the lie.

“Then leave.”

Adrian should have.

His legs should have carried him out the door without hesitation.

But they didn’t.

Julian watched him, his smirk curling slightly, his expression shifting into something more calculating.

“You’re not going anywhere, are you?” he murmured.

Adrian’s throat went dry.

He hated him.

Hated him for being right.

Julian leaned in again, voice dangerously soft. “You wanted this.”

Adrian’s pulse thundered.

Because Julian wasn’t wrong.

He had wanted this. He had wanted MidnightViper.

But not like this.

Not Julian.

And yet—

Adrian swallowed hard, forcing himself to look anywhere but Julian’s mouth.

Julian’s smirk deepened.

Adrian turned sharply, storming toward the door.

Julian let out a slow, amused exhale behind him.

“See you soon, Calloway.”

Adrian slammed the door behind him.

And for the first time in his life, he wasn’t sure if he was angrier at Julian—or at himself.