Puck Me Harder: A Stepbrother Romance [BL]

Micah’s POV

If Raven hadn’t stepped up to save me from George Jenson back in that crowded hallway, that cruel bastard would have completely ruined my life right then and there. I wonder what the hell is wrong with all of the men on earth?

Thanks to her sudden interruption and Noah dragging me away, George hadn’t been able to say another word about the Phoenix Club or Roxie. But Damon... my mind kept racing back to him. The moment he had pinned me against his chest flashed vividly behind my eyes. I subconsciously raised my hand, my trembling fingers gently brushing the shell of my ear where his warm breath had lingered just moments ago. He suspected something. He knew far too much about my private life already, while I knew almost nothing about his. I had to ensure he never uncovered the dark truth about Roxie.

He would probably tease me with it or come to Phoenix club every single hour and make me serve him. Maybe with his attention on Phoenix club, Noah would then suspect something is wrong and that would be how he find out about me working for Phoenix as a crossdressing entertainer.

I violently shook every lingering thought of Damon out of my head and forced myself to concentrate on my job. I didn’t even know there was a game today. Thanks to Raven giving me a camera, I was able to do something with my life. I can’t be as useless as my father always claim me to be.

The referee blew the whistle, and the players glided out onto the glossy ice. Almost instantly, Noah dominated the game. It was incredible watching how seamlessly the varsity squad operated... the absolute trust between the teammates, the fast passes, and the sharp pivots as they effortlessly dodged the rival defense.

"Too bad Damon wasn’t out on the ice," I muttered under my breath, raising my camera and zooming in to capture a crisp shot of Noah mid-stride.

"But I’m right here with you, my dear Micah."

A low, smooth voice purred directly into my right ear.

My heart hammered violently against my ribs as the heavy camera nearly slipped right out of my sweaty palms. My throat went completely dry. I jerked my head to the side, my eyes widening in panic as I met a pair of amused, dark eyes.

Damon fucking Silver.

"W-what on earth are you doing here?!" I shrieked in a harsh whisper as I held the camera properly before it ended up crashing to the ground.

Damon didn’t look bothered in the slightest. He casually sank into the empty folding seat right beside me, crossing one long leg over the other with absolute ease. We were sitting in the very front row of the media section, barely a few feet away from the clear acrylic glass lining the ice.

Panic surged through my veins like ice water. This was an absolute nightmare. Noah mustn’t see us sitting together like this. If he caught Damon anywhere near me, he would completely lose his mind and cause a scene in front of the entire university. Fuck. That’s the last thing I wanted.

I scrambled to pull my body away from him, looking around desperately for a quick escape. Maybe another seat. Just anywhere away from him. But every single media seat around us was packed tight with student journalists, and Noah himself had explicitly ordered me to sit in this exact spot so he could keep tabs on me from the ice.

"Why are you sitting here?" I hissed through my gritted teeth, my face burning with embarrassment. "Go away!"

Damon leaned in closer, his lips curling into a taunting, lazy smirk. "Someone specifically requested that I keep a close eye on you. Just in case a predator like George Jenson decides to slither close again."

My brows furrowed in pure confusion. Someone? Was he actually talking about Noah? Did Noah really command Damon of all people to watch over me? That made zero logical sense. The two of them utterly hated each other. Was that even possible, or was Damon just playing another one of his twisted psychological games with me?

A deafening roar erupted from the bleachers behind us, cutting off my spiraling thoughts. The home crowd burst into wild cheering as our forward slammed the puck straight into the net. Goal!

Out on the ice, Noah pulled off his heavy helmet, casually running his gloved fingers through his damp hair. His sharp, intense gaze immediately swept across the front row of the stands, locking directly onto me. I flinched hard, my body freezing under his suffocating look.

Why was he looking at me in front of all these people? We’ve gotten enough attention for today already.

Then, Noah’s eyes slowly shifted to the left, pinning Damon.

Instead of hiding or flinching, Damon offered a cheerful, mocking wave, his smile widening.

To my complete disbelief, Noah merely glared at him for a fraction of a second before turning around and skating back toward the bench.

Huh?

My jaw practically hit the floor. Did Noah actually tell him to watch over me? Or was he simply forced to swallow his rage because there were hundreds of cameras and spectators watching his every move?

"See?" Damon whispered softly against my side, his shoulder brushing mine. "I told you."

I pressed my lips together into a tight, frustrated line, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a response.

Out on the ice, the buzzer sounded loudly, signaling the end of the first half. The players began skating off toward the locker rooms, our team comfortably leading the scoreboard. Up in the rafters, heavy pop music began blasting through the arena speakers, shifting the tense athletic atmosphere into a loud, festive party.

Suddenly, the massive central LED screen hanging above the ice changed its display, displaying a giant, glowing red heart graphic right in the center.

My stomach plummeted. A wave of dread washed over me as I stared up at the screen. Don’t tell me... is that what I think it is?

"A Kiss Cam?" a guy sitting two rows behind us blurted out, voicing my exact nightmare out loud.

A cold sweat broke out across my forehead. There’s no way it’s going to highlight me... right? I’m just media staff. I’m holding a giant camera!

Panic seized my chest. I couldn’t sit here any longer. I needed to get out of this arena immediately. I stood up in a desperate hurry, clutching my camera to my chest as I prepared to bolt up the stairs.

Before I could even take a single step, Damon’s strong hand shot out, wrapping tightly around my wrist and hauling me right back down into my seat.

"Where do you think you’re heading in such a rush, darling?" Damon asked, tilting his head with dark amusement.

On the giant screen above, the camera zoomed in on a couple sitting in the upper bleachers. The audience broke into synchronized clapping and loud, cheerful chanting.

"Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!"

The couple on screen laughed, leaned in, and shared a quick, sweet kiss. The entire stadium erupted into wild applause. As soon as they broke apart, the camera began panning across the crowd again, searching for its next victim.

"The... the restroom!" I stammered, trying to wrench my wrist out of Damon’s iron grip, but his fingers remained locked around me.

Damon smoothly stood up alongside me, refusing to release my hand. "How thoughtful. I’ll walk with you."

"I can go to the toilet completely fine by myself! You don’t have to act like a needy babysit—"

"Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!"

The chanting from the crowd suddenly grew tenfold louder, echoing violently off the metal roof of the complex. The sheer volume of the arena made the floor beneath my feet vibrate.

"Oh?" Damon chuckled softly, his eyes glinting with a mischievous spark as he looked up at the central monitor. "Look at that."

I hesitantly lifted my head, following his gaze up to the giant screen—and my heart instantly stopped beating.

There, displayed in crystal-clear, high-definition quality for thousands of screaming students to see, was my face. The giant glowing red heart was framed perfectly around the two of us. I was standing there looking completely terrified, while Damon was standing tall beside me, his long hand firmly wrapped around my wrist.

"Kiss Cam?" Damon purred, turning his head to look down at my pale face, a dangerous grin spreading across his lips. "Well, my dear Micah... should we give them what they want?"

"Fuck no!" I yelled in pure horror.

"KISS! KISS! KISS!"

The crowd’s chanting reached a deafening crescendo, people stomping their feet and pointing at the media row. My pulse pounded wildly in my ears, my vision swimming with pure, unfiltered terror. Noah was going to murder both of us. George Jenson was watching from the visiting box. Half the school had their phones out, filming the screen.

Fuck. What the hell am I supposed to do now?!