Friends to Lovers: Chapter 1 - Carl

My opponent launched himself at me, revealing his move a fraction of a second before he committed. The slight squint of his eyes, the tightening of his lips—he was going right. I anticipated it, sidestepping as his momentum carried him forward. My hands skimmed his muscled, sweat-slicked forearm, guiding him past me with just enough force to keep him moving. The moment he passed, I kicked out at his knee, aiming to force him down.

He dodged easily. Too easily.

Before I could react, he twisted sharply, his grip latching onto my wrist with unyielding strength. A heartbeat later, my arm was yanked behind my back, my chest shoved against the rough stone wall of the open-air arena. A rush of heat coursed through me—not from exertion, but from the solid weight pressing into me.

Him.

Richard’s entire body pinned mine in place, every sweat-slicked inch of him molding against me. My breath hitched. Fuck. My pulse slammed against my ribs, my body reacting before my mind could shut it down. His heat, his scent—earth and salt and something purely him—wrapped around me, making my pants unbearably tight.

I barely swallowed the sound that wanted to leave me. My body betrayed me, my cock stirring against the fabric of my shorts. Too close. We were too fucking close.

“Give up?” Richard whispered against my ear.

A shudder raked through me. His breath ghosted over my skin, and I wasn’t sure if the goosebumps that rose along my arms were from the fight or the way his voice sent a thrill down my spine.

Is he breathing harder, too? Is this affecting him the way it’s affecting me?

My voice came out low, breathy, dangerous. “You wish.”

I forced myself to act before I lost all control. My free hand pulled forward, then snapped back in a sharp elbow strike to his solar plexus. His breath left him in a harsh, startled exhale, the warmth of it brushing against my ear before he stumbled back. I spun, shaking off his hold and raising a fist, ready to finish it.

Richard ducked at the last second, my punch grazing past him. Then, with a sharp movement, he barreled into me, lifting me clean off the ground before throwing me backward.

The impact knocked the wind from my lungs. Dirt and sky blurred as I hit the ground, the force stunning me for half a second.

Long enough.

Richard was on me before I could move, his body caging mine as he straddled my waist, wrists pinned above my head.

Fuck.

I wasn’t thinking about the fight anymore. I wasn’t thinking about strategy or escaping. My mind had gone completely blank, overtaken by the feel of him—his thighs locking me down, his body flush against mine, the weight of him pressing into me in a way that was almost unbearable.

I shouldn’t be thinking about how easy it would be to let go. To let him take me like this, to surrender in a way that had nothing to do with the fight.

But my body was already ahead of me.

And then—he felt it.

Richard froze. For a split second, his grip on my wrists tightened, his body rigid as realization set in.

Then, his expression shifted.

Surprise. Understanding. Then something darker.

His pupils blown wide, his breath coming sharper now. His gaze flicked down, dragging slowly from my lips to my eyes and back again. Then he smirked. Not just any smirk—the one he used on girls when he was about to take them home.

No. No, no, no.

He leaned in. Closer. His hips shifting against mine just slightly—just enough.

My eyes slammed shut, my head tilting back before I could stop it. A choked sound left my throat, and Richard swallowed it up like a predator sensing weakness.

“Shit, Carl,” he murmured. Low, rough. A warning—or a promise.

His eyes were on my mouth, his breath mingling with mine. Fuck, this was really happening.

Then—loud footsteps. A burst of voices.

Alistar’s unmistakably loud mouth shattered the moment, followed by the thudding gait of Jared stomping into the arena like he wanted to make the earth submit to him.

Richard shot off me like he’d been burned. I scrambled up just as quickly, both of us turning toward the bench where our towels were, doing everything we could to hide the very obvious problem straining against our shorts.

Fucking hell. I don’t know if Alistar and Jared have the best timing—or the worst.

“Hey, guys!” Jared called, his sharp eyes tracking the distance between me and Richard. I forced a grin, ignoring the way Richard was still turned away, chugging water like his life depended on it.

Good. He was rattled, too.

I latched onto the first distraction I could. “Jeez, guys. Where the hell have you been? Richard and I already sparred. I kicked his ass.”

Richard snorted, still facing away from us. “You fucking wish, dumbass. I had you on your back and everything.”

I choked.

He took another long drink of water, then dumped the rest over his head. My mouth went dry.

Not helping, asshole.

I knew I should look away. Not stare at the way sweat and water slid down his chest, over his collarbone, down the ridges of his stomach. But my mind was not cooperating.

And the worst part?

I dreamed about this exact moment last night.

I thought that since my 21st birthday is tomorrow, I’d be dreaming about my mate. Instead, I was dreaming about Richard. Again.

It’s not that being gay is wrong in werewolf society. It isn’t.

But high-ranking wolves have to produce an heir. That’s the problem.

I have a duty. A responsibility to my bloodline, to my pack.

So no matter how much I want Richard—or how much he seems to want me—we can’t.

No matter how much it tears me apart.

Jared and Alistar shared a look. That look.

Something was wrong.

Jared hesitated, like he didn’t want to say it. “That’s why we were late. The McCreadys are at it again.”

Richard groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “You’re fucking kidding me.”

The McCreadys—a gang of orphaned brothers who should’ve rejoined the pack years ago—had chosen a different path. Petty theft had turned into violence. They needed to be stopped.

“We know where they are,” Alistar added. “We’re rounding them up tonight.”

I nodded automatically. There goes our plans. “When are we heading out?”

Jared shook his head. “You’re not.”

I blinked. “What?”

“You and Richard are still going camping. That’s an order.”

It was meant to be a kindness. One last night before our roles took over our lives.

But after what just happened—being alone in the woods with Richard is the worst possible thing that could happen.

Because there’s only so much temptation I can take.

And I have no idea if I’m strong enough to resist.