Author: Momo Chan

The guy next to me was saying something. I didn’t know what he was saying, but I knew that he was talking to me. Drunk Ezra couldn’t understand English. Instead of paying attention to his words I payed attention to his lips. He had nice ones. As he talked to me I watched his lips imagining what it would be like to kiss him. Drunk Ezra was also reckless and I was feeling real reckless tonight. I had gotten into an argument with my ex-boyfriend. I know it was a cliche, but I couldn’t help myself. I was frustrated. Jaxon was… Insane, to say the least. He was insanely jealous and insanely selfish. He was materialistic and possesive and honestly I didn’t see how we’d lasted as long as we had. I turned to the guy, placing my arm on his shoulder. “You look hot, you want to take a walk?” I mumbled widening my eyes. I was told my eyes were my best feature. He smirked reaching over and pushing my hair out of my face. “Get your hands off of me, Lewis.” he said slowly, enunciating every syllable. I raised a brow. “I’ll take a walk with you.” The guy on the other side of me said and I rolled my eyes. I didn’t want to take a walk with him. “How do you know my name?” I slurred blinking my eyes rapidly trying to clear my vision. He laughed. “God, you must be plowed. It’s barely nine o’clock.” I was convinced I didn’t know this stranger. But I wanted to get to know him. So I turned my flirt on. “Listen, buddy. Are we leaving or not?” He gave me an uninterested look. “Definitely not. I’m going to pass.” Weirdly, I didn’t even feel the sting of rejection. The alcohol was really doing it’s job. “Fine.” I mumbled turning sloppily in my seat to the other guy. “You interested?” I wasn’t normally this loose but I was in desperate need of some male companionship today. “I am very interested.” The man said looking me up and down. “Not happening buddy.” The guy on my right said sounding annoyed. The man looked him over, most likely trying to decide if he could take him. Deciding that he probably couldn’t, he mumbled something under his breath before rising from his seat and walking away from the bar. “Pretty stupid to get plastered and try to pickup random guys at a bar.” The guy mumbled swirling his drink in his hands. “You know my name. Obviously you’re not a stranger.” I mumbled. He tossed his drink back, placing a few bills on the bar. “I wasn’t talking about me. And you must be near death to admit to flirting with me.” I narrowed my eyes, staring at him. He did seem kind of familiar now that I thought about it. Then again my own right hand was a stranger to me at the moment. “Call your friend to pick you up, Ezra. Don’t be stupid.” “What friend?” I couldn’t think of one friend I had. The guy shrugged. “Red hair, Legs up to her ears. Scrawny thing. Sarah- Sadie? Who cares. Give her a call.” I smacked my lips, childishly. “Can’t Call Stella.” I said laughing hard. “She’s throwing a party tonight. I’m supposed to be entertainment but I dipped out.” I laughed again. The guy raised a brow with an annoyed expression on his face. “Entertainment?” I nodded seriously. “I’m supposed to converse and contain. It’s an Alpha Phi Nu thing. But Jax is a part of Alpha Phi Nu so no thanks.” I laughed pointing to myself. “Did I say Nu thanks?” The guy actually smirked now. “Your going to hate yourself in the morning Lewis.” I groaned. “I hate myself right now.” He frowned. It was true. I did hate myself at the moment. For some reason, I always pushed people away. I did it with my foster parents, with my friends growing up, and now I was doing it with Jax. “Stop saying stupid shit.” The guy growled, snatching the remainder of my double shot away from me. I pouted as he chugged that too. He probably was right. In hindsight this was a pretty stupid idea. Damn it, I needed to stop letting Jax make me do stupid things. It was really unhealthy. “Hey?” I was brought out of my thoughts by the guy snapping his fingers in my face. “I said let’s go.” I chuckled. “Nice try big guy. I’m not going home with you.” He rolled his eyes sliding out of his seat. “Sure you are. Don’t pretend this isn’t a dream come true for you Lewis. You can sleep off your drunk on my couch.” I pushed his hand away when he reached for me. “I don’t even know you.” True. But that hadn’t mattered to me mere minutes ago. He grabbed my arm, pulling me off of my stool. “In the morning you’re going to wish I was a stranger. Let’s go, or I’ll call your pretty boy ex to come scoop you. I’m assuming you don’t want that.” He had me there. I didn’t want that. “Don’t blackmail me.” I mumbled following him out of the bar. “It’s not blackmail. Obviously I couldn’t leave you in there. And you said I was a terrible person.” He laughed to himself. “Look at me, doing nice things.” When had I said that? He was having a full conversation with himself now. “Not only am I being super responsible, and a gentleman, but to a girl I don’t even like. I’m a fucking saint.” I smirked as a Lyft pulled up in front of us, the driver a middle aged man with an awesome beard. The guy pushed me into the car before sitting next to me and slamming the door. When his leg brushed mine I felt heat travel straight to the center of my body. Not thinking I placed my hand on his knee. “Hey, stop that.” He complained, grabbing my hand and placing it in my lap. I laughed. “Such a gentleman.” I slurred allowing my head to fall onto his shoulder when it became heavy. “Don’t fall asleep in this car Ezra, or you’ll be waking up in it.” I didn’t listen. I fell asleep. *********************** My head was on fire. No, actually it was currently sitting in a vat of acid just sizzling away and there was nothing I could do about it. I was paralyzed. My throat was dry, I was ready to kill for a cool drink of water. I rolled onto my side, taking a deep breath before opening my eyes. The room was dark. There was a large TV on the wall that was shut off and what looked like a miniature basketball court sitting right next to it. I groaned. Great, my one night stand was with some man child. I couldn’t remember the night clearly. I remembered talking to some guy and getting into a car with him but after that… nada. I sat up in the surprisingly comfortable bed. Hmm… I didn’t feel better. The whole reason for my one night stand idea was to get over Jax. But my mind was still on him, even while I was in another man’s bed. Pushing myself out of the bed, I grabbed my purse off of the floor. I had planned for this, and I had come prepared. Walking a few steps to the closet, I realized I was still in my sleek black dress. Damn it. Did I even have sex last night? With a groan I walked into the adjoining bathroom and pulled my toothbrush out of my purse. I brushed my teeth before splashing water onto my face. Surprisingly, I looked good. My face was free of makeup, my skin was a little pale but it just made my catlike green eyes stand out more. My stupid hair was stick straight as usual. It never got tangled or curly or anything other than limp straight hair. Sometimes I hated it but at the moment it was working for me. My dress was still tight against me and after adjusting it a little bit, I looked like I was ready to go out all over again. I smiled to myself mentally preparing for the conversation I was going to have with the stranger who I definitely did not sleep with. When I walked back into the bedroom he was sitting on the bed and I almost threw up. “Oh my god.” I groaned pushing myself against the wall so that I was out of his vision. I hid my face in my hands. “Morning sweetheart.” He said with what I could tell was a cocky smirk. “How’d you sleep?” He said in a song song voice. Kody fucking Vincent. I hit my fist against my head a couple of times cursing myself. How could I be so stupid? How could I come home with Kody out of all the guys in that bar. “I’m going to kill myself.” I mumbled. Kody laughed. “You know Lewis, I had originally thought that all of your animosity towards me was just sexual frustration but I put that thought away months ago. I guess I was right all along.” This was just something I was going to have to deal with. I made bad decisions and I was going to have to pay for them. Sucking in a deep breath I walked the rest of the way into the room. Kody looked me over quickly, rolling his eyes and mumbling something to himself. He looked good. His blonde hair was covered in a bandanna and his grey wife beater was soaked in sweat. He had on Adidas track pants and he was barefoot. I chewed on my lip. He wasn’t entirely wrong about the sexual frustration thing. “Don’t start with me Vincent. I have a headache the size of your Ego.” He didn’t miss a beat. “You were trying to get a good look at my ‘ego’ last night Lewis. Wanna see it now?” I snorted looking around the side of his bed for my shoes, I had to get out of here. “Not if it was filled with morphine.” That was obviously the wrong thing to say. “It’s filled with something that will make you feel much better babe.” He said walking up to his window and snatching the curtains opened. When the light filled the room, my eyes widened. His face was marked. There was an angry red bruise sitting under his left eye. I raised a brow. Kody didn’t look like the type to get beat up. And the whole sweaty bruised combination was doing strange things to my sexual frustration. “Get caught with somebody’s girlfriend?” I asked nodding my head towards his face. He rolled his eyes. “You really don’t remember do you? Lewis, you couldn’t keep your hands off of me last night. You decked me when I calmly told you I wasn’t going to put out.” My face burned as I turned my attention away from him. Now that he mentioned it, flashes from the previous night were starting to invade my brain. “Don’t flatter yourself” was my weak comeback. Even I could hear the heat in my voice. I knew he could. Kody chuckled walking up to me, his eyes swirling with an emotion that made me uneasy. “You wanted me Lewis. The only thing keeping me from taking you, was the fact that you were drunk.” I definitely didn’t take him for the gentleman type. I pushed his shoulder back. “Back off from me Vincent. You missed your chance to ride this ride.” He didn’t move. “You’re not drunk right now, Ezra.” I swear, my name sounded so sexy coming off of his lips. I needed to leave asap. “In your dreams.” I mumbled attempting to walk past him when it became clear that he wasn’t going to move. He didn’t say anything as I walked past him clutching my heels in my hands. I looked around the room. The bed was messy and the floor was covered in discarded clothes. for some reason, that was turning me on. My sexual frustration was at an all time high. “Okay.” I said squishing my eyes shut and turning on my heels. “Okay Vincent. Let’s do this.” I quickly opened my eyes. I had ripped the bandaid off, now it was simply a waiting game. He didn’t even seem surprised by my outburst. He simply stood were he was, waiting for me to make the first move. “One time only. No strings attached. No one finds out.” I said when he stayed quiet. Our friends kind of ran in the same circles. “Who am I going to tell?” He said casually, still playing it cool. I knew he wanted me. He’d always wanted me, he just couldn’t stand that I had my own mind and didn’t bend to his every whim. And I couldn’t stand that he was a cocky little shit who had a perfect life. But yeah… I’d wanted him. Nodding my head, I walked up to him, deciding to dive right in. “So, are you a take charge kind of guy or are you secretely a sub?” He smirked as his eyes turned a shade darker.”You talk to much, Lewis.” He said before bending down to meet my lips.

Five Weeks Later Macy was a perfect roommate most of the time. She was easy going and very funny and she never took anything too seriously. That was the problem at the moment. She wasn’t taking this seriously. She laughed leaning back on her bed, her heavily conditioned hair staining her ivory sheets. “You said it was the best sex you’d ever had.” She said in between laughs. I pursed my lips waiting for her to finish. “You said…” she broke out in another laugh. “You said it was the best decision you’d ever made.” Tears were actually coming out of her eyes now. “Oh my god. It’s killing me.” She clutched her stomach pounding her fist against the bed. I simply stared at her. I kind of wanted to fight her. “Are you done?” I asked after the chuckles died down a bit. She nodded her head, still chuckling. I walked over to her bed sitting down next to her and laying my head on her shoulder. “What am I going to do, Mace?” I groaned. She smacked her lips together. “Let me see it, you probably didn’t even read it right.” She said holding a hand out.” I groaned. “It’s one line or two lines Mace. I’m not blind.” Still, I handed her the stick closing my eyes and praying for her to tell me that there was actually only one line and I was just delusional. “Damn, bitch you pregnant.” She mumbled ending on a chuckle. I quickly snatched the stick back from her looking at it again, as if I hadn’t been staring at it for the past hour. “I can’t do this.” I said after a while, my hand subconsciously trailing to my stomach. Macy flicked me. “You can do anything girl. I know you. Strongest bitch I’ve ever met.” Tears welled in my eyes. “No, I really can’t do this. I can’t-” my breath caught and suddenly my lungs began to burn. I couldn’t breath. I sat up in the bed placing my hand over my heart. Was I dying? Was the baby killing me? It would make sense considering who it’s dad was. “Breathe, girl.” Macy said rubbing my back. “And be quiet unless you want Stella coming in here and yelling at us. If she finds out you’re carrying, you’re out of the house.” That was the least of my concerns. “I can’t have a baby, Macy.” I hissed. “I definitely can’t have Kody Vincent’s baby.” She smirked. “Looks like you can sis.” I stood up. “Dammit, we used a condom. I’m going to go over there and kill that son of a bitch.” When I headed for the door, Macy grabbed my arm. “I wouldn’t do that. We should go to the doctor and have you checked out. That’s usually the first thing they do in the movies.” “Before they tell the guy? I don’t think so. I’m going to go beat Kody into a pulp and then we’ll both go to the doctor. ” I said. “Me for a checkup and him to have my foot removed from his small intestine.” Macy laughed. “I can’t believe you have Kody Vincent’s child in your belly right now.” I closed my eyes taking a deep breath. “Okay. Let’s go to the doctors. There’s a chance that the only thing I have in my stomach is your chipotle.” She widened her eyes. “I knew that was you.” She growled. **************************** “Okay, Mrs Lewis every thing looks fine at the moment. I agree with you on the date of conception. That puts you at a little over four weeks. I’m going to prescribe you some prenatal vitamins and schedule you a follow up but other than that everything looks healthy.” I simply stared at her. She raised a brow before continuing. “Both mommy and baby are doing fine sweetheart.” She said slowly, probably thinking I wasn’t understanding her. “I can’t be mommy.” I didn’t mean to say it out loud but somehow my thoughts materialized into actual words. The doctors face fell and sadness filled her eyes. “Hey, have you talked about options with anyone yet?” I shook my head. I didn’t want options. I wanted to not be in this situation. “Okay, well we have a person right in the building you can talk to. I can send you to her.” I shook my head studying the doctor. She was really pretty with blonde hair that stopped just above her shoulders and sparkly green eyes. She looked young and happy, like she had everything going for her. “What would you do?” I asked. She widened her eyes at my question before nodding her head. She put her clipboard down, walking towards the bed and sitting me before sending me a smile. “Does the dad know?” I shook my head. She nodded, not seeming surprised. “What about your parents?” I swallowed the lump in my throat. “I’m a foster kid. I don’t have anyone.” I recognized the pity in her expression. “So it’ll just be you and this little person you created against the world?” She asked lightly. I didn’t respond. She stood back up clearing her throat. “I don’t know what I would do in your situation Mrs Lewis. I’d like to think I would make a decision I could live with and not regret.” She scribbled something down in a notebook. “Here.” She handed me the paper with the prescription. Her number was scrawled underneath it. “If you have any questions or you just want to talk, give me a call. I wanted to cry again because of how nice she was being. Instead I studied her name tag. Ana Miller. “Thank you.” I mumbled sliding off of the bed. “Thank you so much.” I wiped at my face as I headed for the door. “Your welcome. Don’t forget the follow up.” I nodded exiting to the waiting room were Macy was sitting smugly. “How’d it go?” She asked when she saw me. I grabbed her hand. “Let’s go.” I didn’t want to talk in front of anybody that went to our school. She nodded understanding. When we made it to her car, I burst into tears for what felt like the millionth time that day. “I’m going to be a college drop out, Mace.” I said. Macy tugged at my hair. “No you are not. I’m not going to let you. We can move out together and get an off campus apartment. We’ll get jobs and you can get a babysitter. And you can bet your ass Kody is going to be financially responsible even if he doesn’t want to be in this child’s life.” That just made me cry harder. I knew how important a father was in a child’s life. I had loved mine with all my heart. “Hey, don’t stress too much. It’s bad for our child.” That made me laugh a little and I took a deep breath wiping my face. I needed to get my shit together. Crying was not going to get me out of this situation. “Shut up Macy.” I said lightly. This girl didn’t take anything seriously. She shrugged. “I’m serious. We can get married, but you’ll have to take my last name.” I rolled my eyes. “How’s Jamie going to take the news.” Macy raised a brow. “Obviously we’ll be a throuple Ezzie.” I groaned at the nickname. “I’m going to do it, Mace.” I placed my hand over my stomach. A wave of protectiveness washed over me and I looked down at my flat stomach. “We’ll be fine.” And I wasn’t talking to Macy when I said that.

Now that I had accepted that I was going to have a child, the next hardest part was telling Kody. I didn’t want to. I wanted to pretend I had gotten knocked up by some other one nightstand and raise my child on my own, but Macy had guilted me into spilling my guts. I woke up early Saturday morning, sneaking out of the house before Stella could guilt me into running an errand for her. The sun was out which was rare. It was warm so I wore a white T-shirt with my favorite denim shorts. I tied my hair into a high ponytail allowing my fringe to escape. I looked cute but relaxed. The outfit was the only part of me that was relaxed. My hands shook as I walked across campus to take the shuttle. I didn’t have a car yet and I thought about how crazy it was that I was about to have a baby before I got a car. Or a career. Or a fucking clue. Don’t get me wrong, babies were always in the plan. The ten year plan. After college and marriage. I didn’t want my kids to go through what I had went through. But that was in the clouds now and this was real life. As I walked to Kody’s house I plotted. The measly tips I made working as a waitress at the local diner wasn’t going to cut it. I couldn’t drop out of school. I just needed a better job. I needed a plan. I had eight months to get it together. Taking a seat on the shuttle, I pulled out my phone and began to jot things down in my notes app. Things I needed in the next six months: An Apartment A better job To tell Kody that he had gotten me pregnant I tapped my finger on the screen as I tried to come up with more stuff that absolutely needed to be on the list. I was pulled out of my thoughts by the bell ringing on the shuttle. Collecting my bag, I made my way off of the bus and proceeded to walk the three blocks to Kody’s apartment. Everyone on campus knew where Kody lived considering he was wildly popular. It wasn’t a shock as to why. For one thing he was insanely good looking with pale blonde hair and a sharp jawline. His eyes were a cool blue and his eyelashes were thick, just one look had girls dropping their panties. If that wasn’t enough, he was rich. Not insanely rich or anything but he had more money than the average student at Winterbrook U. Surprisingly enough, he wasn’t much of a snob and you could barely tell he was loaded. But his apartment was one of the things he had splurged on. I trudged up the steps leading to his one bedroom that was located on the third floor. I had never been inside his apartment before our one night stand and I wasn’t excited to be going back. I didn’t want to look like a groupie. Making my way to his door, I raised my fist, briefly knocking before I could lose my nerve. The door was almost immediately pulled open, a stranger standing in the doorway. I took a small step back, thinking that I had knocked on the wrong door. The guy looked confused, reaching a hand out and scratching the back of his neck. “You’re not Pizza Hut.” he said with a smirk. I looked him over. He didn’t seem like the kind of guy Kody would hang out with. He was tall and kind of wiry with lean muscles. His hair was shaggy and his lips were baby pink. He was kind of adorable. “Uh, I’m looking for Kody.” I said, clearing my throat. The guy smirked, leaning against the door. “Is that right?” He looked me over, seeming to have an internal debate in his head. I clenched my teeth. “It is right.” I snapped. “And instead of ogling me like some sort of creep, maybe you could just let him know that I am here.” The guy tilted his head to the side. “Calm down, midget.” He said with a smirk. “If you must know, I was deciding if it was worth hearing Kody’s mouth to see some girl drama. I’ve decided it is. Come on in.” He stepped to the side while I scowled at him. Midget? I was actually pretty tall. I stood at five feet seven inches and I normally towered over all of my girl friends. Who was he to call me a midget? I stepped past him, rolling my eyes. I froze when I focused on Kody’s living room. It was filled with guys. It smelled like weed and I noticed a couple of blunts being passed around. Kody was sat on his couch, a blunt behind his ear. He had his eyes closed. He seemed relaxed. I wanted to smack him. When the occupants of the living room noticed me, the room began to quiet down. I opened my mouth to say something but I found myself speechless. I suddenly regretted my choice of outfit. “Kody, you have a guest.” The guy who had opened the door said with a smirk. Kody slowly opened his eyes. When they made contact with me he narrowed them before looking around the room. “Beast, clear it out.” He said quickly pulling the blunt from behind his ear and throwing it onto the table. “You heard the Cap.” A guy with dark olive skin said standing quickly. Now he looked like the kind of guy Kody would have out with and I didn’t miss the side look over he gave me. All of a sudden the living room began to clear out. I didn’t miss the stares I was getting or the mumbles. I chose to ignore them as I glared at Kody. This was going to be the father of my kid? “King, wipe that smirk off of your face and beat it.” Kody said rolling his eyes. The guy who opened the door stayed where he was. “Alright, but this is really my last job Cap. I mean it.” Kody glared. “Whatever. ” King sent me an amused look before walking out of the apartment leaving me and Kody alone. “Lewis. To what do I owe the pleasure?” Kody asked standing up now and walking over to me. I ignored his question. “What did he mean, ‘one more job?” Kody rolled his eyes, opening his fridge and pulling out a water bottle. “That’s none of your concern. Why are you even here?” I folded my hands nervously. “I actually needed to talk to you but-” “We decided that was going to be a one time thing, Lewis.” Kody mumbled taking a long swig from the bottle. God, did he have to make every action so damn attractive. “That’s not why I’m here.” I said. Kody smirked. “Sure. You came to my house in those short shorts because you wanted to talk about what, the history final?” He laughed. “Don’t be so transparent.” I raised a brow. “Are you high?” I asked because now that I thought about it, he was acting high. He walked closer to me, stopping with just an inch of space between us. I had backed up into the counter. He was definitely high. “I’m not high, Lewis. I’m just stating the facts. And if you want another round in my bed, your going to have to do much better than shorts and an unexpected visit. That’s such a cliche.” I pushed him away from me, stepping neatly around him. “Get your shit together Kody. I don’t want another round in your bed. Do you even hear how much of an asshole you sound like?” He shrugged taking another drink from his bottle. This was a mistake. I couldn’t believe I had let Macy talk me into doing this. “You know what Kody, ” I said tightening my bag on my arm. “Have a nice life. Good luck ending up like every single other smoked out teen in this town. ” I wasn’t going to let my child be around that. Not to mention whatever gang related activities were going on around here. He glared at me as I walked towards his door. “Screw you, Ezra.” He said. I ignored the expression on his face because it seemed like his feelings were hurt. But I couldn’t care about Kody’s feelings. “You already did.” I tossed back, slamming the door.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MyFiction” app 🔍 search for “397501”, and watch the full series ✨! #MyFiction #Playboy #rich #Obsession #Pregnancy #HatetoLove #OneNightStand #Romance

Book One: BlockedBrit The first question Brit always got when people found out she played ice hockey was “Do you have all of your teeth?” The second was “Do you, you know, look at the guys in the locker room?” The first she could deal with easily—flash a smile of her full set of chompers, no gaps in sight. The second was more problematic. Especially since it was typically accompanied by a smug smile or a coy wink. Of course she looked. Everybody looked once. Everyone snuck a glance, made a judgment that was quickly filed away and shoved deep down into the recesses of their mind. And she meant way down. Because, dammit, she was there to play hockey, not assess her teammates’ six packs. If she wanted to get her man candy fix, she could just go on social media. There were shirtless guys for days filling her feed. But that wasn’t the answer the media wanted. Who cared about locker room dynamics? Who gave a damn whether or not she, as a typical heterosexual woman, found her fellow players attractive? Yet for some inane reason, it did matter to people. Brit wasn’t stupid. The press wanted a story. A scandal. They were desperate for her to fall for one of her teammates—or better yet the captain from their rival team—and have an affair that was worthy of a romantic comedy. She’d just gotten very good at keeping her love life—as nonexistent as it was—to herself, gotten very good at not reacting in any perceptible way to the insinuations. So when the reporter asked her the same set of questions for the thousandth time in her twenty-six years, she grinned—showing off those teeth—and commented with a sweetly innocent “Could’ve sworn you were going to ask me about the coed showers.” She waited for the room-at-large to laugh then said, “Next question, please.” *** This was it, the call up of her life. And Brit was sitting in the parking lot of the arena, unable to force her fingers off the steering wheel. “Get it together,” she muttered. “Or you will suck on the ice.” Harsh, probably. But the truth. Still, the words were enough. Enough to get her body in motion, to pop her door, and walk around to the trunk of her ten-year-old Corolla. Her gear was shoved inside the small space like a sausage threatening to burst from its casing. Brit grabbed the strap and hauled out her bag before slinging it across her shoulder. “You know they have guys for that.” The voice made her jump, and her gaze shot up, then up some more until she stared directly into the eyes of the captain of the San Francisco Gold, Stefan Barie. The slight tinge of a Minnesotan accent made her shiver. Uh-oh. And seriously, only a hockey fan would find a Minnesotan accent sexy. He smiled. “It’s the coldest-winter-is-summer-in-San-Francisco thing.” When she frowned, he cocked his head. “The wind chill.” What? “You know? Mark Twain?” Her brows pulled together. “I know who Mark Twain is, and I’m familiar with the quote. Though it’s a common misnomer, and Twain didn’t actually say it. Still, it is windy in the city . . . I just don’t know why you think I’m cold, and it’s not—” She shook herself. What was the point in her rambling? “Never mind.” This was what her mind did. Every single time. It drifted, focused on mundane details she then couldn’t prevent from bursting free. No surprise that once they were free, her conversations were punctuated with awkward pauses. Like the one happening now. Brit sighed. Give her an interview any time. Let her spout off sound bites to the camera and no problem. It was the real life human interactions that were terrible. “No,” Stefan said. “Tell me. What is it?” It was only because he seemed genuinely interested that she answered. “It’s not summer.” “What?” Another sigh. Yep. Way to go, genius. “It’s technically fall. Summer has been over for six-and-a-half days.” There was a moment of quiet, a long, uncomfortable pause during which neither of them spoke. Then surprisingly—shockingly—Stefan laughed. Her heart gave a little squeeze, her brain said, Uh-oh, but then before she could really panic, he spoke, “You’re absolutely right. Now come on.” Snagging her sticks, he nodded toward the arena. “I’ll show you the ropes.”

Oh no, this wouldn’t do.This. Would. Not. Do. Brit stared up at the obviously hastily created sign—black squiggles of Sharpie and crumpled computer paper tended to highlight that fact. This would not do. “Okay then. See you on the ice,” Stefan said, handing over her sticks and walking down the hall. Brit dropped her bag to the black skate mat laid across the concrete floor, pushed open the door, and peered inside the room, just to make sure it wasn’t full of her teammates, that this wasn’t a lame joke for the new girl. It wasn’t. Hot rage slid through her that she tried to swallow. She needed to be on her A-game. Needed to focus. And this wasn’t the players’ fault. Apparently, management had decided to go for this little endeavor on their own. Likely, they were trying to keep things PC in order to avoid a potential lawsuit. But this was Brit’s future. She fumbled for the switch and flipped on the light. Her heart sank further as a wave of disappointment welled up. It was exactly as she’d feared. A single bench. One equipment rack. Yup. Getting dressed by herself was sure going to help her integrate into the team. The locker room was the heart of any hockey team, where joking and ribbing and plenty of cursing took place. It was where she’d always felt most comfortable, and where she’d been able to find at least a few allies. How was she supposed to receive coaching sequestered by herself? Should she just watch the team bond and draw up plays without her? Miss the talk about D-pairs or changes in the system? She wasn’t the first woman to sign a contract with a professional men’s hockey team, but she was damn sure the first to have earned a chance at the backup goaltending spot. Which might someday lead to a starting position. A major step of which was connecting with her teammates. Brit let the door slam closed, shouldered her bag, and walked down the hall. She heard them before she saw them. “Chin up,” she murmured and pushed into the room. It took a few moments for the guys to notice her. Silence fell, stifling, hot, embarrassing. Not that a little embarrassment would stop her. Spotting an empty bench and rack, she walked across the room. Her bag hit the floor with a thud; her sticks clacked together as she set them against the wall. She could have heard a pin drop, could practically smell the smoke coming out of her teammates’ ears. Not about to let them get the drop on her and having been through this more than her fair share of times, Brit knew it was best to get the awkwardness over. She unzipped her bag, hung up her gear, then toed off her shoes and stripped down. All the way down. “Everyone get that good look,” she said into the quiet locker room. Her gaze slid around, meeting each of the guys’ in turn. Some were obviously confused or shocked, a couple were irritated by her or her interruption, and some were typical men—if their eyes glued to her breasts were any indication. Others—like Blane, her teammate now three times over—were familiar with her methods. He didn’t even blink at her nakedness, just kept his eyes on hers and nodded in greeting. “Get it out of your system,” she told the interested ones, “and get over it,” she said to the irritated section. She was here to stay, and if they had a problem . . . well, they could suck it. To the rest, she said, “Now let’s play some fucking hockey.” With that, she snagged her sports bra and underwear and started getting dressed. “Style points, sweet— I mean, Brit.” She grinned up at Blane, who was half-dressed and standing in front of her, and feigned indifference, even though her heart was pumping with jitters. This may not be her first professional hockey rodeo, but it was still the NHL, where the best came to play. No way she wanted to screw that up. “You know how it is,” she told him. Her anxiety eased when he stepped closer and gave her a quick hug. It was nice to have him there, especially since the two of them went way back, having played together in juniors. “Ten points out of ten.” His voice dropped. “You okay?” “Now I’m fine.” She was. And as soon as she got onto the ice, she’d be even better. “Good.” Her lips twitched. “Good for you to catch that sweetheart.” Blane grimaced, tapped his nose. “Hasn’t been the same since the first time I made the mistake of using it.” She’d been young with a chip on her shoulder the size of a redwood. Blane had made the mistake of trying to prove to his friends he could get in her pants. The result had been a broken nose for him and a month-long grounding for her. But they’d gotten that nonsense out of the way, had settled into a warm and easy friendship. “I’d say sorry—” she began. “But I wouldn’t believe you anyway.” He grinned. “Glad you’re here,” he said and crossed back to his spot to finish getting dressed. Brit grabbed her pelvis protector, pulled it on, then snagged the black and gold striped socks that had been in the other dressing room. Just as she was about to slip one over her foot, a soft voice interrupted her. “Well done,” Stefan said. She turned to look at him, not having noticed he was in the stall next to hers, and her heart gave a little tremble. Which she ignored. Obviously. He raised two fingers in silent salute before continuing to get dressed. Slowly, noise filtered back in through the room, lewd jokes punctuated by awkward pauses as the guys glanced toward her for her reaction. “You’ll have to do better than that,” she called after a particularly bad one. “I’ve heard that lame excuse for a joke before.” Stefan snorted, and her eyes flashed to his. Was it pride in his gaze? Annoyance? She couldn’t tell a damned thing. She’d just knelt atop her pads and begun strapping them on when Coach Bernard came in. He hesitated for the briefest moment, as though surprised to see her, then plugged an iPad into a cord in the corner of the room. The image on the tablet’s screen was projected onto the far wall, and he ran through each of the drills in turn. “Move it,” he told them. “Ten minutes.” On the way out, he paused near Brit, glared, then inclined his head to an open door just off the main part of the locker room. “When you’re finished.” She nodded, tied the last couple of straps, and stood. Leaving her chest protector and helmet on the shelf above the bench, she walked to Bernard’s office. Her pulse raced, and her palms were sweaty. His expression had said this chat wouldn’t be concerning her welcome party. The buckles on her leg pads clinked when she hesitated on the threshold. Bernard glanced up from a stack of papers on his desk and waved at her. “Come in.” Brit shuffled her way inside, waited. Bernard studied her, his face completely impassive, and yet there was something under the surface. It wasn’t dislike exactly, but she got the feeling he hadn’t been one hundred percent on board with her being there. Well, tough. She’d prove herself to him as well. Just as soon as she figured out a way to end this god-awful silence. A minute went by. He stared at her as she stood there, half-dressed and awkwardly taciturn. Eventually, she cleared her throat and asked, “You wanted to see me?” “Yes, Brittany—” “Brit,” she interrupted automatically. Bernard didn’t say anything for another long moment, only regarded at her with a raised brow. Her gut went tight as she stared back. Last thing she wanted to do was get on the wrong foot with management and, between her locker room striptease and interrupting the coach, she had the feeling she was off to a very bad start. “Brit,” he finally said, “I think you’re a good player, don’t doubt that. But I’m not sure you being here is the best thing for the Gold.” Ouch. The Gold were the NHL’s newest expansion team, a controversial addition—and an unnecessary one at that, some thought—in the already professionally crowded, but hockey-hungry Bay Area. As with most expansion teams, they weren’t very good, which wasn’t unusual, but the owners were running out of patience, and the team had gotten some bad press last season: carousing, the odd DUI, then a scandal involving one of their top players and a rape allegation. Couple that with losing the majority of games . . . Rumor had it, if the team didn’t improve this season, the owners might sell. “You think I’m a publicity stunt.” A way to clean up the Gold’s image rather than a valuable addition to the team. It wasn’t something she hadn’t already thought of. Bottom line, though, was it didn’t matter what management’s motivations were. This was her chance to play at the highest level possible. To be the first woman to do so. It was a really big deal, no matter the pushback she would have to withstand. God knew, she’d already endured plenty of it from the media, from other players in the league, from her own mother, who worried she might be in over her head. Outwardly, she held onto a shield of confidence, pretended all of the naysayers had no freaking clue. But inside? She did wonder if she was good enough. Only time would tell. Still, Brit knew one thing. And it was a big one. She knew she could deal with pretty much anything if it meant she could play hockey. The sport was in her heart, in every single nerve ending and cell. She never felt more at home than when she was on the ice. “Maybe you’re a publicity stunt. And maybe it’ll work out.” He shrugged, like it wasn’t her future he was so casually dismissing. “But my experience tells me not.” “Well, thanks for the vote of confidence.” She didn’t bother trying to keep the sarcasm from her voice. Any bridges she might have worried about conserving had been burned long before she’d even set foot in the locker room. Bernard sighed. “You’re talented. I’ll give you that much. Your glove hand is one of the fastest I’ve ever seen. But you’re shorter than the male goalies and weak on your upper blocker side. That will need improvement if you want a chance at a start.” “Noted,” she said. “I’ll work on it.” And she would. “Good.” A beat of quiet. “See you on the ice.” With a nod, she left the office, knowing that despite Bernard’s lack of confidence in her abilities, he had spoken the truth. She was shorter. Her blocker side—the hand that held her goalie stick and was protected by a large rectangular pad—was her biggest weakness. It wasn’t as if she could grow six inches on the spot, but . . . she could work on her technique, bust her ass, and practice hard. Harder than she ever had before.

A man stood next to Brit’s stall when she came out of Bernard’s office. Mid-fifties with close-cropped white hair, he wore a black tracksuit with the Gold’s logo and skates. A pair of gloves and a stick were propped next to her gear.“Brit,” he said, putting out his hand for her to shake. “I’m Frank, but the boys call me Frankie, so feel free.” Call him Frankie? Words literally would not form on her tongue. Because she already knew who the man was. Had researched each member of the Gold’s coaching staff before she’d signed her contract. But that didn’t stop her from being starstruck. Frank wasn’t just Frankie. He was Franklin Todd, renowned goalie coach and former professional player, and just about as close as she got to a hockey orgasm. Meeting him, talking to him was better than shutting down a cocky forward on a breakaway, better than stacking the pads and stealing an almost-guaranteed goal. He was her idol. Except . . . Her heart sank because he probably felt the same way as Bernard. She was an annoyance, a not-quite-good-enough player. Worse. She was a girl. Well, fuck that. Straightening her shoulders, Brit glanced up and forced herself to witness the derision in Frankie’s eyes firsthand. Except it wasn’t there. She stumbled for a moment before settling on “H-hi, Frankie.” He grinned, grabbed up his stick and gloves. “Hi, yourself. Don’t let Bernard get to you. He’s a hardass to every new player, and he especially doesn’t like rookies.” She shrugged into her chest protector and began securing it in place. It was strange to be considered a rookie at her ripe old age. In hockey, rookies tended to be in their teens, or sometimes their early twenties. Definitely not well on their way to their third decade. But that aside, she decided to ask the bigger question. “Why’d he agree to have me on the team?” If she’d been expecting a platitude about Bernard really liking her on the inside or some crap, she’d have been wrong. “He had no choice.” Okay then. “I wanted you and threatened to walk if management didn’t give you a contract.” Brit was dumbfounded for a long moment before she found her voice. “But . . . why?” She’d had her fair share of supporters through the years, her brother, some coaches and players, a small—very small—segment of fans who knew who she was. But why would someone she’d never met—someone she didn’t know—put his neck out for her? “I saw you in Buffalo.” She frowned, thought back to all the times she’d played in Buffalo. Only one game stood out. And not because they’d dominated. “But we got creamed.” Her team had lost 8-1, and she remembered each of the four goals that she’d let in with crystal-clear accuracy. The two periods she’d played had been some of her worst hockey ever. “I know.” Confused, she just stared at him. “You let in some soft ones.” Was that supposed to make her feel better? “But after you were pulled”—after the coach had taken her out of the game and let the other goalie play—“you stayed on the bench instead of going to the locker room.” Brit remembered sitting there, at first because she hadn’t wanted to make the walk of shame past her teammates, and then in sympathy when the score continued to rise. “Yeah, I did.” Frankie watched her for a long moment, his eyes fixed on hers, as though willing her to understand. She didn’t. Big deal. She sat on the bench. It isn’t like she’d done it for unselfish reasons. Frankie sighed, clapped her on the shoulder, and turned toward the hall that led to the ice. “Five minutes.”

Lanie Today was the day I lost my freedom forever. “Oh my god. I can’t believe it! It’s finally time!” My best friend Mindy stormed into my bedroom. I loved her enthusiasm typically, but today wasn’t the day for it. I’d been dreading the mating ceremony for years. But now that I was eighteen, there was no way around it. Due to the shortage of she-wolves, I’d be assigned to my two mates today. And they could be anyone—from a neighboring pack, or guys I went to school with who had also just turned eighteen. And getting mated to any of the guys I went to school with? Gag me. And not in the sexy way. No one knew how the elders decided who was mated to who. And sure, some people ended up okay, like my mom and my dads. But sometimes? Sometimes it wasn’t so great. And the elders? They didn’t care. Once a woman was assigned to her mates, that was it for her. The only way out was death. And in that case? Lucky guys! They got a new mate. After all, the purpose was to rebuild the clans after the Great War, so basically, we she-wolves became nothing but incubators. Yay. I’d find a way out. Eventually. There was no way I was going to just spend the rest of my life having two men using me as their own personal sex toy. “You look like you’re going to prison or off to war or something right.” Mindy frowned at me. “I am.” * * * “Last Fall’s mating ceremony resulted in the birth of seven pups, and last Spring’s mating ceremony has resulted in three pregnancies so far. We hope this Fall’s ceremony will be just as fruitful.” The head elder, Aldon, gave a small nod of approval from his place on the stage set up in the middle of the town square. Polite applause sounded. This whole thing made me want to barf. But I wouldn’t dare do anything that could bring embarrassment to my family. The elders were known to be a bit…catty…with their assignments if someone displeased them. My sister was due to be mated in just a couple of years, and I would slice my own throat before I ever did something to compromise her fate. Mindy practically vibrated with excitement beside me, her gaze focused intently on the stage, her hand in mine. I gave her hand a little squeeze. I hoped we would get to stay in the same town. Being near her would help me through whatever came, even if I was separated from my family. “Pay attention,” Mindy hissed. “They’re starting now.” “Lanie Stanton!” Oh, shit. Why did I have to be first?

Lanie I took a deep breath and walked up onto the stage. My heart felt like it was about to beat right through my ribs. Dear gods, please don’t let me faint. Please, please, please don’t let me faint. I stood next to Elder Aldon and looked out into the crowd, above their heads, not seeing anything or anyone as my eyes fuzzed over. “Lanie Stanton, it is my pleasure to announce that you have been mated to Alpha Xander, and his Beta, Zane.” Wait, what? I was mated to the Alpha and his Beta? No, that couldn’t be right. Everyone knew they were both completely head over heels for Alice. Everyone expected the elders would mate her to them. I looked back over at Elder Aldon, who was staring at me. “Ex…Excuse me. I don’t think I heard you. Could you repeat that?” Elder Aldon stepped closer to me, so his black robe hid the fact that he grabbed my forearm roughly, his bony fingertips digging into my flesh. “You. Heard. What. I. Said.” He punctuated every word with a puff of onions-and-coffee breath, his grip on my arm increasing. I feared he would draw blood. “Go,” he growled, shoving me forward. I swallowed down my fear and turned to face Alpha Xander and Beta Zane, who were sitting on the other side of the stage. I did my best to hold my head high as I took slow, steady steps toward Xander and Zane—who were both looking at me with a mixture of pain and anger on their faces, their mouths contorted in snarls. Their wolves shined behind their eyes, and they glared at me. Xander’s hands were gripping the arms of his chair, looking almost as if he could snap the wood right off. They looked terrifying, and I wanted to run as far away as I could. I made it across the stage and stood in front of them, bowing my head slightly as I waited for them to speak, to tell me what to do. Because…they owned me now. *** Xander This. Would. Not. Stand. The elders had made a mistake, and I would force him to fix it immediately. If being Alpha stood for anything, Zane and I would at least get the match we wanted. “You’ve clearly made a mistake, Elder Aldon,” I said, my wolf rising closer to the surface, roiling with anger. “I assure you, we have not, Alpha Xander.” Aldon lifted his chin, his pointy nose tilted up like a pig sniffing for food. He disgusted me. This match disgusted me. I stood, shoving the little twit of a girl aside and walking toward Aldon, ignoring her gasp as she stumbled. As I towered over him, he backed up a step. “Sir… Alpha…the choice has been decided. Once it has been written, it cannot be undone.” “Anything can be undone.”

Xander I looked out at Alice. Tears streamed down her beautiful face, and her blue eyes screamed at me in agony. My heart sped up, and I wanted to go comfort her, tell her everything would be okay. Instead, I looked back to Zane and opened our mind link. “Go to her,” I told him. In seconds, he was by her side, holding her and whispering words of reassurance to her. My chest ached looking at them. That was my future. Me, my Beta, and Alice against the world, raising our pups, raising the next Alpha of the Constantine Clan. I turned back to Aldon, allowing my wolf to show its claws. “You will undo it. Find a way,” I commanded. Aldon’s wolf flashed in his eyes, along with something else I couldn’t place. But he looked off to the side out into the crowd and then backed down. Had he been in wolf form, his tail would have been between his legs. “Please, Alpha. Can we speak about this privately, and let us finish the rest of the mating ceremony?” I could barely hear him, and I scented his fear. “Finish the mating ceremony. Now.” I turned to go back to my seat. “Stay down there with her. And I swear to god, if he calls her to mate with someone, I’ll have his head,” I spoke to Zane. The fact that she was twenty and hadn’t yet been mated wasn’t lost on anyone. Alice had been treated horribly by many others in the pack for it, but I’d worked hard to sway the elders to put it off. Elder Aldon continued. “Next up, Alice Fabine. Mated to Gregory Bjorn and Lucas Spindler.” *** Zane I was going to kill him. I was going to jump onto that stage and tear him limb from limb and then make Xander declare that this whole mating process was done. That our pack was going to go its own way. Fuck everyone else. Alice trembled in my arms, sobbing as her name was called. My heart splintered, and I held her tighter, kissing the top of her head. It was all I could do not to partially shift and sink my fangs into her neck and claim her right there in front of everyone, elders be damned. “Alice, you must go to your assigned mates.” Elder Aldon’s voice was slimy, and my fangs dropped. “What in the fuck are we supposed to do?” I projected to Xander. “Just… Fuck.” Xander’s power radiated through the crowd as his anger notched up, and we all felt it in our bones. Just one of the reasons Alphas had to stay in constant control. Anything they felt was sent out to the rest of the pack if they didn’t have a tight rein on their emotions. “Xander… your rage is being fed to everyone here,” I warned. Our eyes met, and we both nodded. We knew what we had to do.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MyFiction” app 🔍 search for “397498”, and watch the full series ✨! #MyFiction #Luna #Threesome #MenageandMore #EnemiestoLovers #FatedMates #HatetoLove #ArrangedMarriage #AfterHours #Paranormal

I lost my sight. But this morning, miraculously, I could see again. I wanted to tell my parents the good news, but I found a crumpled up tissue under my bed. There was a message on the tissue: Don’t tell them you can see.

I always thought my husband was handsome, wealthy, and gentle until I found this basement when I was cleaning the villa. As soon as I pushed the door open, I smelled the Formalin. I turned on my cell phone flashlight and a pair of human eyes were staring me dead in the face! I took a step back with a shriek, and I had hit something. I slowly turned around, and my husband was standing in front of me, looking puzzled and asking me, “”What are you doing? “” Next to him was a bloodied corpse ……”

On the day I was released from prison, two men were waiting for me. One of them sent me to prison, and the other one convicted me. The snow was very heavy that day. They looked like two snowmen waiting outside the prison. Not just the two of them, I would make everyone pay their price.

When I was buried in a coffin, there was only one thought in my mind. I want her dead. She was my best friend, the woman who buried me alive.

Half an hour ago, I sent a photo of my boss to my ex, and texted: My hubby. Then everyone in the meeting room saw the message on the big screen. I was so ready to quit my job, yet somehow my boss was willing to play along. But why exactly would this handsome rich guy want to date me?

My mom was divorced, and the one to blame was my aunt, Grace. Since she only wanted me in the divorce, Aunty Grace kicked her out and left her nothing. On the court’s judgment day, I said I would live with my father in front of everyone. I was 12, and I had just started my revenge.

My mother was a homewrecker, and I was born by mistake. I had been a tool my mother used to manipulate my father. Having such parents, I had learned to read people’s minds well since childhood. And thus, it wasn’t hard for me to read men’s minds as I grew up. Not a single guy would not be willing to do things for me, not even my half-sister’s fiancé…