Noah’s P.O.V“Hey, you waited.” Dorian’s voice breathed into my ear just as I reached for my car door. I discretely retracted my hand and clenched it beside me. If Dorian hadn’t appeared right now, I would have left. Embarrasment heated my cheeks and I tried to respond to him but words fail me.His lips pressed into the side of my neck and he inhaled deeply. “Have I ever told you you smell really good? It’s gotta be those expensive ass cologne.”“Oh shut it. Maybe you should try bathing some times.” I shot back and his deep laughter dribbled into my ear like warm chocolate.“Yeah with your Gourmet bath soaps.” he snickered and pulled away, turning me around to face him. “Not everyone was born with a silver spoon shoved up their butt, Carter.” Although his voice sounded humurous, there was some seriousness in his eyes. Feeling a little awkward, I scrambled for an ice-breaker. “That’s why you need to replace the spoon in mine, Hayes.”God, why did I say that?“Oh yeah?” He murmured, li
DorianCarter looked up at me with his big blue eyes, glittering like little stars with arousal. "May I suck your dick?"that wasn't enough. I narrowed my eyes at him and when he got the memo, his throat bob but then he whispered... "Please."The plea went straight to my dick and I bit on my bottom lip to hold back a groan. He looked like pure sin right there on his knees, golden curls falling over his face while shyly holding my gaze, begging to take me inside his throat. A large part of me wanted to take my phone and steal this moment in a picture forever so I could look at it after this was over and remind myself how fucking hot Noah had looked begging for my cock. But knowing Carter would probably freak out, I can only manage a mental catalogue for masturbating for at least the next two months. I give him a slight nod to his request and his cheeks flushed bright red. Circling my dick with his fist, he guided it to his lips and to my surprise, pressed a shy soft kiss on my tip. Fu
Noah’s P.O.VIt’s been two days since I hightailed it out of Dorian’s room like a fucking coward, and I still couldn’t get the taste of him out of my mouth. Or the way he touched me…and the way I let him.Moreover, how much I’d liked it.I was a fucking idiot.I’d spent the last forty-eight hours alternating between furious self-loathing and locking myself in my room like a goddamn hermit. The only reason I even left my room was for practice and classes, and thank fuck we have the week off from games because I know I would’ve played like complete shit. My head felt like a disaster zone and every second I ignore the single text from him took something away from me. I now know, without a doubt, that I wasn’t fully straight. There was no use lying to myself aymore, not after what happened with Dorian.My pulse jumped like it had for the past few days anytime he came up in my thought,That cocky, smug bastard with his fire-engine red hair, and his ridiculously green eyes, and his…fuck. I
Noah's P.O.VAfter Jaxon kicked me out of his room, I decided to go by myself to the library. So I was walking across campus and minding my business when I spotted him.My heart beat instantly kicked up and the damned organ began slamming itself against my ribcage as if it was trying to escape and jump into his hands. God, he looked heavenly.Dorian was clearly on a run, wearing a pair of low-hanging track pants and black headphones that made him look infuriatingly hot. He was also wearing his lip ring and it caught the sun, adding to his sex appeal. There was a sheen of sweat covering his rippling muscles as he jogged but the longer I looked, I realized there was something different about his appearance.And then it clicked. Dorian has gotten a fresh haircut. Most of the time I’d seen him at practice in the last forty-eight hours, he had his helmet on and besides, I avoided him like the plague. His red hair has been shaved to the low buzzcut he was wearing the first time he came int
Noah’s P.O.VImogen was ridiculous.We walked through the rows of bookshelves, her mouth running nonstop, and I barely had the time to process the fact that I’d just met someone who actually had MY love for classical literature.She ranted about everything–why she hated first-person narrative (“I don’t care what the protagonist thinks, I want to see them just fucking act and fuck up in real-time.”) why Hemmingway was overrated, (“Good for him and his six-word stories. I could do that too, you know. Here see, ‘Man is sad. Drinks. Dies. The end.) that was actually very funny even if I didn’t totally agree with her. She talked so much she even explained why bookstore coffee tasted like burnt sadness, but was still somehow superior to Starjucks.And I found myself actually listening…and enjoying it.People didn’t talk to me like this, not as Noah Carter, hockey captain and Son of NHL royalty, but as just as some guy, who happened to be returning books in a library. Hell, I dare say a nerd
Noah’s P.O.VNew sets of drinks had arrived and we’d fallen back into our easy, comfortable rhythm which was basically laughing, drinking, and throwing jokes around like we are both just bunchs of idiots with no midterms, no existential crises, and no…secret confusing sexual awakenings hanging over our heads.I was throwing back a gulp of beer when Imogen leaned in, her breath warm with alcohol and mischief. “Okay, but if you could…which guy in this bar would you kiss?”The beer went down the wrong pie and I had to set my bottle down, coughing while she cackled like I’d just been caught watching gay porn in church.“Jesus,” I wheezed, wiping my mouth. “What is wrong with you?”“Oh, come on,” Imogen whined, nudging my arm. “It’s hypothetical.”I shook my head, but she kept at it, her eyes wide and goading, until finally, with a put-upon sigh, I relented. “Fine.” then I angled my body so I could scan the room.The bar was packed now, filled with a chaotic mix of students and locals, som
Noah’s POVThe night air was crisp against my flushed skin as I slumped back on the bench, laughing breathlessly. Imogen was curled up beside me, head tilted back as she cackled into the sky."Okay," she gasped, wiping tears from her eyes. "Tonight has been iconic." "I can't believe we walked back and forth three times like idiots.""We're so stupid," she wheezed, and we dissolved into another fit of laughter.Then my phone buzzed.I frowned and pulled it out, blinking against the sudden brightness. 20 profile views. 15 new message requests from the Smashers site."...What the fuck?"Imogen leaned over my shoulder, eyes widening. "Oh my god." She grabbed my arm, shaking it. "I told you! The shirtless pics are bringing them in!"I stared at my screen, baffled. "Already?""Baby, the second a looker like you upload a thirst trap on a hookup site, the floodgates open."I hesitated, then tapped on the message requests. My eyes widened at the sheer number of profile pictures featuring shir
Noah’s P.O.VI knew I was fucked the second I stepped onto the ice. My head was pounding in a dull nauseating throb that made my vision blur at the edges. And to make matters worse, I’d forgotten to put my contacts in, so everything was blurry as if I was looking at the world through a dirty windshield. It didn’t help that my stomach was still churning alcohol. And the noises of the skates against ice and puck, they kept stabbing straight through my skull and of course, Coach fucking noticed.“Get your head on straight, Carter. Or get the hell off my ice.”My grip on my stick tightened as a few of the rookies snickered.I deserved that. I knew I deserved that. I’d skipped practice, and now I was showing up hung-over and sort of half-drunk and sweating out last night’s shenanigans. But I was already pissed off and humiliated by Coach O’Rourke when I joined them this morning. He called me aside once I skated out and chewed me out for missing practice and my irresponsibility because of
Noah's POVChristmas Eve, and I felt like roadkill that had been rained on, run over twice, and forgotten on the side of the road. My nose was clogged, my head was pounding, and my limbs felt like they’d been stuffed with wet socks. The apartment echoed with silence and I just felt so fucking miserable..Liam had left for “practice” three days ago. Practice. On Christmas week. Sure. I wasn’t stupid. Even NHL players got time off for the holidays. But I didn’t ask questions. It was his place, not mine. He could go to Jupiter and I’d still have to be grateful for the four walls and overpriced furniture.I shuffled to the door like a corpse when the bell rang, dragging the blanket off the bed with me like it was my emotional support animal. A tissue hung out of my nostril, clutched in one hand like my last shred of dignity.I was already mentally preparing myself for the sight of a package guy or maybe Mark, here to guilt-trip me into watching Elf for the fifth time. But when I opened th
Dorian’s POV“Twenty-nine... thirty.”The bar slammed back into place with a satisfying clang, my arms trembling slightly from the weight. My chest rose and fell, slick with sweat, and I laid there on the bench for a second, staring at the ceiling of the mostly empty university gym like it had answers. It didn’t.Groaning, I wiped my face with the towel I slung over the rod, then sat up and shook out my arms. The pain was good. It kept me focused and grounded. It had only been a week and a day since I started seriously training again, but my body was already responding—bulking, hardening, becoming familiar again. Something I could control. conditioning and playing ice hockey for the last few weeks of the championship season also helped a lot.Anyhow, I made my way to the floor-length mirror at the far end of the gym, bare-chested, my joggers hanging low on my hips. My reflection stared back at me and not to be a conceited asshole but I was impressed. My arms which had begun to thin wh
NoahIf you favoured Minnesota in the winter, the beautiful snow covered scape and curling up in front of a fire place with a hot whipped coffee, then you'd definitely find Miami offensive as fuck. It was less than a week to Christmas and the sun was out. It wasn’t even noon and it was already making a damn spectacle of itself, glaring down on my windshield like I owed it money. I had the AC blasting, sunglasses on, and I was still squinting like a mole dragged out of his burrow.it was insane. The only tell tale sign it was winter was definitely the over the top decorations along every single building I'm driving past and the string lights around trees that'd be lighted up at night.My phone suddenly buzzed where it was mounted on the dash, dragging me from my observation. I tapped the screen and my second bestfriend's name flashed across it. biting back a grin, I answered the call but before I could even say hello, her voice exploded through the car like a battle cry.“NOAH FUCKING
Dorian's P.O.VIf I thought the Carter mansion looked stunning at night, it was even more ridiculous in daylight. It wasn't just an house but an estate, looking like something off a postcard. I sat behind the wheel of Susie’s tiny car, jaw slack as I stared up at the sprawling estate. Massive hedges shaped into clean-cut shapes of cherubims. The last time it had been in shapes of chess pieces or I may have been mistaken looking at it in the night. Anyway, the pillars gleamed like they were carved from marble, and a few people in uniform swarming the front lawn like busy bees, stringing up massive Christmas garlands. It was literally a whole operation. Frosted wreaths, gold-dipped reindeers, strings of lights being looped over every surface that could take them.Of course, they had a whole staff for this. Rich people didn't climb ladders to decorate their house for Christmas. It was just perfect I caught them at this time. Shit.I opened the car door and stepped out, my shoes muted
Hello guys! Author here! I'm so sorry about the last chapter. I would love to launch into an explanation of why that happened but the words count for "authors notes" is very limited. (But it's a honest mistake.)It won't happen again and to show I'm really sorry.I'm making the next chapter free and adding it to this note.so here.Championship Season.Dorian's P.O.VDORIANThree weeks laterI shoved the door open with my shoulder, the tiny bell jingling in that annoying, rusty way it always did. The strip mall lights outside cast long shadows across the linoleum floor. Everything smelled like synthetic pine and warm plastic—exactly like a place that sold discount dish soap and almost expired soda should.At the front desk, Susie didn’t even look up. Her eyes were glued to the little TV mounted up in the corner like a shrine. Snorting at the reindeer jacket she had on--please it looked absolutely ridiculous --I blinked, pausing halfway into the store. That was me on the screen, liftin
Noah's P.O.V The long drive from campus to my home felt like a slow trek to my own execution. By the time I pulled up to the front of my family’s mansion, the same looming, white-stoned fortress I'd grown up in, it had gotten even darker. My tires crunched over the long winding driveway which was filled with floodlights along the stone paths down which cut through the Late night November darkness. I killed the engine, and left my hands on the steering wheel, breathing in and out. For a second, I just sat there, staring up at the massive house like it was about to swallow me whole. It was like a giant beast carved into hill, the many floor-to-ceiling glass windows reflecting lights causing the house to glow all by itself. Beside me, Dorian whistled low from the passenger seat. "Jesus," he muttered, turning to me with raised brows. "You lived here your whole life?" He shoved the door and stepped out, craning his neck to take it all in; the ivy wrapped columns, the massive lak doors
Noah's P.O.VThe long drive from campus to my home felt like a slow trek to my own execution. By the time I pulled up to the front of my family’s mansion, the same looming, white-stoned fortress I'd grown up in, it had gotten even darker. My tires crunched over the long winding driveway which was filled with floodlights along the stone paths down which cut through the Late night November darkness.I killed the engine, and left my hands on the steering wheel, breathing in and out. For a second, I just sat there, staring up at the massive house like it was about to swallow me whole. It was like a giant beast carved into hill, the many floor-to-ceiling glass windows reflecting lights causing the house to glow all by itself.Beside me, Dorian whistled low from the passenger seat."Jesus," he muttered, turning to me with raised brows. "You lived here your whole life?" He shoved the door and stepped out, craning his neck to take it all in; the ivy wrapped columns, the massive lak doors and
Noah's P.O.VThe bass thudded so hard through the walls it rattled the red Solo cup in my hand. I wasn't even sure what I was drinking anymore but it clearly was something sweet and carbonated that burned my throat going down. It didn’t matter anyway because I was here to get shit faced drunk and forget why I even was alive.I leaned back against the wall of the sorority house, blinking against the strobe lights flashing through the crowd. There were bodies all around me. Everyone was sweaty, drunk and sloshing drinks everywhere. However I felt...empty as though I was watching it all through a thick glass window.But even through the blur of it, my eyes kept betraying me as they flickered back to where Dorian stood surrounded by a small harem of girls. All of them were gorgeous—perfect bodies, perfect makeup, shrieking with laughter at whatever bullshit he was saying.I couldn't stopooking at him.I kept telling myself not to and just be normal, have fun and to let go, but every damn
Noah’s P.O.VIt has been three days since that Thanksgiving dinner with Jaxon’s family and I swear to God, it might as well have been three years with how fucking hectic everything got afterward. Long hours, harder drills, screaming matches on the ice because Coach kept grinding us down to the bone. Everyone was running on fumes, trying to stay sharp for the last (8th) game of the regionals, but I felt like I was back in fucking hell week.On the...somewhat...bright side, Dorian was finally back with us. Coach had unbenched him after I promised to not let our personal relationship or the lack of it affect the twam , and for a minute, I thought things might go back to normal. Dorian stayed out of my way during practice and he'd gone back to his usual animosity, not speaking to anyone before and after practice. But when it came time for Coach to list the starting lineup for the final games, Dorian’s name wasn’t on it. I caught the flicker of hurt that crossed his face when Coach said i