Trophy Boyfriend

Noah’s P.O.V

I felt drained.

Even though it was a lazy sunday which I usually looked forward to, my body felt like it had been run over by a truck. I’d spent most of the day sprawled out in my apartment, playing C.O.D on my console, but I couldn’t focus. My hands moved, my fingers smashed buttons, but my mind was somewhere else entirely.

Yesterday’s game had been a total shitshow.

How the hell had we lost on our own ice? The memory made my stomach twist. A home match, and we’d been humiliated, scoring with only a point. And I knew it wasn’t just bad luck.

The team was split down the middle after thursday and it showed. Everyone was either pissed or just plain stunned about what had gone down.

What Hayes had done.

Every time I thought about it, my head started to throb. He’d fucked my girlfriend in the bathroom and was damn unapologetic about it.

Friday came filled with tension and when Dorian stepped into the locker room for afternoon practice, Matt couldn’t resist stirring the pot, of course.

“Liam, did you hear Hayes had a wild night?” He’d said angrily after grabbing his rookie by the hair. “Didn’t think anyone had it in them to steal the captain’s girl. Bold move, man. And now I know the other rookies will be getting ideas.”

He continued mouthing off, tossing more diesel into the roaring fire. Telling everyone who cared to listen that the captain’s girlfriend was for the streets and Hayes had broken bro code.

I’d just clenched my fists, but I didn’t say a word. What was I even supposed to say or do? Did they expect me to punch Matt in the face or probably strangle Hayes? I did neither. Instead, I pointedly engaged Jaxon in a meaningless conversation because honestly, I didn’t feel anything except a distant irritation for everyone.

That night in the party, after I stormed out of the bathroom and Jaxon forced me to tell him what happened, I went straight home and took a long shower to cool my heating skin.

At first, I thought the hotness brewing in me was as a result of rage, but when the freezing water from the shower kept pelting on my skin and the hardness between my legs hadn’t disappeared, I knew I wasn’t angry.

I was embarassed and…fucking aroused. So I adjusted the water temperature until it felt like I was taking an ice bath and finally I lost my hardon.

Refusing to think of the implication of my body’s reaction, I slid on clean shorts and slipped under my sheets.

Then I started to mull over what I’d seen in that bathroom. I stirred my thoughts away from any distractions like his lip ring…and his...uh dick.

I forced my brain to only focus on the betrayal of the scene, trying everything I could to build up rage but once I remembered those green eyes, every negative emotions I festered towards Hayes disappeared. And I knew what this meant.

Guilt.

I never forgave myself for betraying the green-eyed boy in my past and now fucking Hayes who was an asshole through and through could ruin everything I had and I’d be convinced that I deserved it.

So the next day, Friday, I’d gone through the motions of classes like an automaton and then the coach called me into his office to discuss the next game on saturday. When I finally made it into the locker room, most of the guys hadn’t arrived, except Jaxon who had been with me in the coach’s office.

Without asking, I knew the news had spread fast and Jaxon gripped my shoulder in silent support, whispering to me that once Hayes showed up, he and the other guys would jump him. But I’d immediately flipped on him and grabbed his arm, begging him not to do anything to cause Hayes physical harm.

He’d been confused as to why I wouldn’t want to hurt the fucker who cheated with my girlfriend on me and I quickly lied that I wanted everyone to be in one piece for the saturday game…Okay that wasn’t a total lie. Which was great because Jaxon reluctantly agreed not to gather up the team and beat Hayes.

By the time he showed up, everyone was almost suited up. As he stiffly made his way in, I could feel his eyes boring into me, as if trying to will me into meeting his gaze but I ignored him.

As the guys taunted him about it and he grew angrier, I didn’t say a damn word. Maybe I should have.

Becuase when Saturday’s match rolled around, the team was a wreck. Our heads weren’t in the game. We couldn’t connect plays and it was like we’d forgotten how to play hockey entirely. And, as you already know, we lost.

Now, we were down three points–points we needed if we were going to stay in the running for the championship.

I felt like shit.

To make it worse, after the game, when we went back to the frat house to lick our wounds, Jaxon wouldn’t stop hounding me. Usually, I’d appreciate it. I had a bad habit of rewatching games anytime we lost, trying to see what I could have done better and Jaxon was good at pulling my head out of my ass, forcing me to look forward instead of obsessing over what went wrong. But this time Jaxon thought I was heartbroken over Rose when she was the last thing on my fucking mind.

“Plenty of fish in the sea, Noah,” he kept saying as he entered my room. “She doesn’t deserve you man and don’t worry, we’ll make sure Hayes doesn’t last long on our team.”

It made me want to ram my knuckles into my bestfriend’s mouth and when I couldn’t take it anymore, I stood up, grabbed my car keys and left the frat house to my apartment off campus.

The sound of my character getting KO’d on-screen yanked me out of my thoughts. I’d stopped paying attention to the game entirely, and the taunting YOU LOSE on the screen was enough to make me slam the controller onto the couch and turn off my TV.

My phone suddenly buzzed beside me and I picked it up reluctantly, knowing what I’d see.

Rose’s name sat at the top of my notifications and I cringed when I saw 50 unread texts from only her.

I’d skimmed through a few of them yesterday and they swung wildly between apologetic and outright nasty.

–I didn’t mean it, Noah. Please you know I love u.

– You’re being such a dick about this. Let’s talk things out.

Rolling my eyes, I swiped past her texts, not bothering to open them. Instead I shot off a quick reply to Jaxon’s latest message asking where I’d disappeared to.

–I just took a break. I’ll be fine.

Satisfied, I set my phone down and leaned back against the cushions. But the silence didn’t help.

Eventually, out of pure desperation, I opened i*******m and started scrolling through memes, random selfies on my feed.

Until HE popped up on my screen.

My breath hitched as I stared at the post. The picture was a reflection of him in the mirror, background clearly hinting he was at the gym. Shirtless of coure. His muscles were pronounced and I almost snickered. He must have just finished working out when he took the picture. VERY vain of him. His red hair was plastered to his head, damp with sweat. My eyes lingered on the sharp lines of his abs and biceps and I felt my throat dry up.

I stared for far too long, before my thumb moved and clicked on his profile.

Just as I knew, I wasn’t following him and he only popped up becuase we had mutuals. The screen soon filled with more pictures of him and despite the rational part of my brain screaming at me to scroll away, I couldn’t stop.

It wasn’t like he posted often, but when he did post…Jesus. His i*******m was practically a thirst trap…fucking soft core p**n. There were a couple of rink shots and a few random close-ups of his hands or skates but honestly, those barely held my attention. I found myself scrolling to the images of him, shirtless, saliva pooling in my mouth. The one picture that burned into my memory was of him lying on his stomach on a beach, exposing the hard panes of his tanned back. His swim trunks rode low, causing his ass dimples to wink at me. I didn’t zoom in, nor did my dick twitch. That is what I would keep telling myself thirty minutes later when I stopped checking his pictures.

A new message suddenly pinged on my phone and I quickly grabbed on it like a raft, dragging me out of the raging waters that was Dorian’s I*******m.

I moved to my iMessage, half of the heat dissipating when I saw it was another text from Rose. why couldn’t she take the fucking hint.

–Noah please. Let me make it up to you.

Something inside me snapped and for the first time since the incident, I felt angry. Gritting my teeth, I opened her chat and typed out a reply.

–We’re done. Don’t contact me again.

I hit send and stared at the screen, watching as the ‘delivered’ turned to ‘read’. Then without hesitation, I blocked her.

Throwing my phone far away from me, I dragged my hand down my face, frustration bubbling up in my chest. I shouldn’t have fucking agreed to date her. Not because she cheated but because the truth was I had no feelings for her from the start.

My chest tightened as my suppressed truth began clawing its way to the surface.

No. No. I couldn’t face that truth now, couldn’t hash out that secret. Panic rose in my chest and I tried to shove it down, burying the heel of my palm into my eyes but my throat contracted and the words slipped out. “Gay... I am gay.”

The silence that followed was defeaning.

I felt like I chewed glass and slashed the insides of my mouth as the words rolled from my tongue.

My hands balled into tight fists and before I could stop myself, I slapped my face. The sting spread through me, shocking, but I did it again and again and again until tears burned in my eyes, blurring my vision as the truth crashed over me in waves.

I wasn’t angry at Rose. I wasn’t even angry at Dorian.

I was angry at myself. At the lie i’d been living since my first wet dream as a teenage boy. I thought about my strict father who never failed to remind me how my path had been carved out before I was born. I had to be a real man, play hockey, get into the NHL and settle down with a nice woman like my mother who could run for the vice president of stepford wives, birthing 2.5 kids. I thought about how my father had sneered when some news about a gay hockey player, Jonathan Ridley, surfaced on TV. He’d been outed and after the hateful backlash from the public, he was soon dropped by his league. “He deserves it.” my father had sneered, lips twisted in disgust. “Real men shouldn’t have to deal with perverted fags in a masculine sports.”

Let me tell you that Jonathan had been one of my father’s favorite goalie before the incident.

That was enough for me to bury every unnatural feelings I had and when too many tongues wagged, I dated a few girls, silently hoping they’d change me. But deep down, I felt guilty for using all of them to fit in.

At least for Rose, my guilt wasn’t as overwhelming. I'd known Rosetta wasn’t really in love with me. She just wanted a trophy boyfriend, untouchable captain of the hockey team to show off.

But one thing that hurt me in this equation was Dorian. I was no fool and I knew he fucked Rose to get to me after all I'd shown him was kindness.