Page 12

CHAPTER 12

RIVER

The blood boils in my veins as I hit the gas pedal, flying through the deserted streets of Beacon Bay. Shifting gears, I whip around a corner, furious with myself. Every time we fuck Samantha, I fall deeper for Nate.

Why do I keep putting myself in the position to get hurt? While this feeling is not new, it grows stronger every second.

I still remember the day we met at Remington Academy and would give anything to return to those days before our lives got so complicated.

My legs shook as I entered our shared bedroom. Nate rose from his bed, a mess of blond hair brushing his tanned forehead, cheeks flushed. I noticed his height first. He towered over me, looking much older than twelve. If my dad hadn’t told me we were the same age, I would have assumed Nate was almost out of high school.

He wore a black suit jacket with the school’s logo on the breast pocket and matching slacks. Standing tall for his age, hands on his narrow waist, Nate reminded me of a politician, not a boy.

He grinned like he was good at keeping secrets, eying up every detail of my face. “Do you like to hunt?”

I narrowed my eyes at him, unsure how to answer, so I just stared.

“Well, do you?” Nate said with a thick Texan drawl, his big, brown eyes widening on me.

“I don’t know.” I shrugged. “Never tried it.”

Nate put his hand on my shoulder and steered me to his side of the room. He nodded at the target practice poster on the wall above his bed. Red dots marked the center of the man’s chest and head, both ripped to shreds by bullets.

“You’re either the hunter or the hunted. Which one are you?”

At the time, I was thrown off by his question. Now, I would give anything for Nate to turn his hunter instincts on me.

Some nights, I imagine him pinning me to a wall. Or bent over his bed. My favorite fantasies are of us in the locker room shower. However, I would take Nate anywhere I could have him.

When I touch myself, I dream of his thick cock in my ass, his blonde stubble grazing my inner thighs. All the sexy sounds he makes. The cute dimple that pops in his cheek when he’s focused, seconds from coming.

Since boarding school, I have denied myself pleasure—a decade of wanting someone I can never have.

My chest aches.

My heart breaks.

That fucking whore is with my best friend, in my house, sleeping under my roof. In the morning, she’ll eat my food and kiss my friend. Fuck my friend.

I hate her.

It’s not her fault, though.

Samantha has no idea why I freak out every time we fuck.

I crank up the music belting through the speakers. My dad got me this sick ride after I won last year’s Frozen Four for my team. An Aston Martin DB12 with all the bells and whistles, including premium speakers.

I blast heavy metal—my go-to when I’m pissed—and blow through a red light. “Master of Puppets” by Metallica fills the car, and I bob my head to the beat. Only the drunks are out this late. The frat houses are in full-blown party mode, the music audible from a mile away.

The small coastal town is a tourist attraction in the summer. But with winter almost here, a frosty chill blankets the city. My teeth chatter, so I crank up the heat and increase the temperature of the leather seat.

Whenever in doubt, I drive to the same place every time. My brain does it on autopilot. Glitter is the only gay nightclub within fifty miles of campus. I mostly come to watch men make out. Sometimes, I dance with guys.

But no sex.

Not yet, anyway.

I still haven’t worked up the nerve to go all the way. Until then, my tight ass will stay preserved for the right man.

I want it to be Nate.

I want to be his everything .

As I approach the club’s entrance, I pull down the Yankees cap to conceal my face. I can’t risk anyone spotting me. You never know where the paparazzi are hiding. My entire life has been filmed, photographed, and, at one point, televised.

A few months after The Hockey Life ended and my dad shipped me off to boarding school, my life finally started—because I met Nate. Overnight, he became the brother I always wanted, my family when I had no one but him.

We bonded over our shitty parents and learned we were both awesome at hockey. I taught him puck-handling skills, and he showed me how to shoot a rifle and stand up for myself.

Nate is my person.

Mine .

And the witch took him.

I walk toward the door, dressed in gray joggers and a zip-up hoodie. Some men wear super bright colors. Others are shirtless, tight pants clinging to their asses.

The bouncer scans my driver’s license at the door and glances at my face. If he knows my name, he doesn’t say anything. I hand him the cover charge, get a shimmering gold bracelet slapped on my wrist, and enter the club.

I speak as little as possible when I come to Glitter. I’m so worried about someone remembering me from a TikTok video.

The club has two floors, a vaulted ceiling with suspended cages, and five bars. There’s a main stage and a few smaller ones where the dancers strip. Above my head, men grind against the cage bars. All the blood rushes straight to my dick, fueling my desires. No matter how hard I try, I can’t seem to quell the cravings.

I love it here.

It’s raining men.

What’s not to like?

My father says all gay men are going to Hell. He would tell me what I’m doing is unnatural and defies the laws of nature.

Fuck him .

If this is Hell, sign me up. I’ll gladly burn with my fellow sinners.

Men are kissing and practically fucking on the steps, the dance floor, and up against the bars. I dart toward the first bar, and a small hand grabs my dick. Another hand squeezes my ass.

“Hey, cutie,” a twink yells at me, batting a pair of eyelashes so long they must be fake. “Where are you going?” He wiggles his tiny ass, the spandex pants clinging to his lithe frame. “Dance with me.”

I could crush him at six feet two and two hundred pounds of solid muscle. Compared to him, I’m a giant. I could easily throw him around and do whatever I wanted.

But he’s not my type.

I come here looking for someone like Nate, someone similar in height and build to me. Bonus points if they like sports, especially hockey. So far, I have yet to find my perfect match at this club… or anywhere.

Because my man is at home with her .

I shake the twink off and continue toward the bar, searching for men who meet my criteria—my Nate checklist.

Leaning against the bar, I flag down a shirtless man behind the counter. Bodies and gazes shift in my direction, and my cheeks flush with heat. Every time, I wonder if someone will recognize me. After six months of coming here, my secret is still safe. But it’s only a matter of time before someone reveals it.

“You look lost,” a deep voice growls in my ear.

“Let me guess,” I say, turning to face him, “you…”

The words stick to my tongue and won’t come out. Entranced by the gorgeous man standing before me, I let him invade my space with his manly scent.

He has short, spiky black hair and is toned in all the right places. Shirtless, mesh shorts hang low from his narrow waist. I could get lost in those big blue eyes lined with eye black—like I am right now.

We’re the same height and build, except my arms are more muscular and covered in tattoos. He leans into my bicep, smothering the air from my lungs as his lips inch toward mine.

Holy shit!

It’s him .

A quizzical look crosses over his face. “Have I seen you here before?”

Panic sets in for a second before I realize he means the club. Most people come up to me and ask why I look so familiar. I always tell them I have one of those faces and run in the opposite direction.

“I come to Glitter sometimes. So, yeah, you’ve probably seen me around.”

His eyes. I couldn’t ignore them if I tried. My sexy Law and Ethics professor—aka Baby Face—stands before me. Because of him, Nate jerked me off and now sends me sexy videos. I know it’s because Nate was jealous. The thought of me getting off to another man probably infuriated him. Whatever his reasons, I will never tell Nate to stop sending those hot as fuck videos.

“Not sure how I missed you.” He licks his lips, and I want to jam my cock between them. “You have a face I’d never forget.”

It sounds like a cheesy pickup line, but coming from him, it’s hot.

I unzip my hoodie so he can see I’m also fit. His eyes lower to my chest, slowly inching down to my cock. The sweatpants leave nothing to the imagination.

I move my hand to his hip and pull him closer. “Can I buy you a drink?”

He shakes his head. “I’m working.”

“Are you a bartender?”

“How about I let you figure that out?”

My lips brush his, but he makes no move to kiss me. “I like a little mystery. What’s my prize for solving it?”

“Baby Face,” a man calls out, hovering over us. He must be close to seven feet tall and built like a refrigerator. “Is this creep bothering you?”

Me, a creep?

I stifle a laugh.

When I see him online, he’s usually dressed like a football player, shirtless and donning shoulder pads, eye black under his eyes, and tight ass shorts with nothing under them.

He’s not wearing his usual costume. But if this man calls him by his OnlyFans name, he must be getting ready to put on a show.

My obsession with him started over the summer when Nate went home for a few days to visit his family. While Nate was gone, I wanted something to jerk off to and stumbled on Baby Face’s videos.

It only took one of his teasers for me to subscribe. I lost days of my life and gave myself a hand and leg cramp coming to the sound of his voice and his big dick.

“Nah, he’s not bothering me,” Baby Face tells the bouncer. “We were just talking.”

He winks at me and follows the bouncer in the opposite direction, leaving me with a rock-hard erection.

By some miracle, he doesn’t recognize me from his class. It’s probably because I sit in the back with Nate. I keep my head down and try not to draw too much attention on campus.

Tonight, I’m not quite myself. So, I get a crazy idea—anything to help me forget about Nate and the hole he’s carved into my heart.