APKDock Logo
Chapters
share
Puck Me, Stepbrother Novel Cover

Puck Me, Stepbrother

Bryson POV Blackridge University was already a nightmare before I dumped hot coffee all over Julian Hayes. He's tall, built, with this perfect smirk that makes me want to punch him. Captain of the hockey team and the biggest asshole I've ever met. He destroyed me in front of everyone. Made sure I knew exactly where I stood. But then I joined the hockey team to make my mom happy, and suddenly everything changed. I could actually play. And Julian? He started looking at me like he wanted to destroy me in a whole different way. Now every practice feels like war. Every time we're alone in the locker room, I can barely breathe. I hate him. I want him. And I'm pretty sure he knows it. Julian's POV I run Blackridge University. Team captain, golden boy, everyone wants to be me or be with me. Then some transfer kid crashes into me and ruins my shirt. Bryson Miller. Smart mouth, cheap clothes, and eyes that look at me like he's not impressed. I should've crushed him and moved on. But the little shit joined my hockey team and turned out to be good. Really good. Now I can't get him out of my head. Every practice, every fight we have feels like something else entirely. Something I don't want to think about. I thought that was complicated enough. Then I walk into my house tonight and find Bryson unpacking boxes in my living room..
Chapters
share

Chapter 1

Bryson's POV

I should have stayed home.

The thought hits me as I stand in front of Blackridge University's main gate, staring up at buildings that look like they belong in some fancy movie about rich people's problems. Everything here screams money. The stone walls are so clean they practically shine, and the grass is cut so perfectly it looks fake. Even the trees look expensive.

My phone buzzes in my pocket-another text from Mom.

"Have a great first day, honey! Remember to smile and talk to people. Maybe join a club or something fun!"

I shove the phone back without answering. Mom means well, but she doesn't get it. She's so happy about marrying Richard Hayes that she thinks everything will be perfect now. She keeps talking about how this is our chance for a better life, how I'll love Blackridge, how I'll make amazing friends.

What she doesn't understand is that I don't belong here.

I look down at my jeans. They're clean and they fit okay, but they're from the thrift store back home. The kind of place where everything smells like old fabric softener and costs five dollars. Around me, other students walk by in clothes that probably cost more than Mom makes in a week. Designer bags, perfect shoes, watches that catch the sunlight.

I feel like a fraud.

"You can do this," I mutter to myself. "Just find your classes and survive the day."

The campus map in my hands is already getting wrinkled from my sweaty palms. I've been lost twice already, and I'm starting to panic. Economics class starts in ten minutes, and I still have no idea where Hamilton Hall is supposed to be.

A group of girls walks past me, their designer heels clicking on the stone path. They're laughing about something, and I catch bits of their conversation.

"Did you see what Jessica wore to the party last weekend? So embarrassing."

"I know, right? Like, where did she even get that dress?"

They glance at me as they pass, and I see their eyes take in my clothes. One of them whispers something to her friend, and they both giggle. My face gets hot.

This is exactly what I was afraid of.

I check my phone for the time. Seven minutes now. I need to move.

The coffee shop on the corner looks busy, with a line of students waiting for their morning fix. I should skip it, but I barely slept last night, and I need the caffeine if I'm going to survive my first day. Plus, maybe if I'm holding a coffee cup, I'll look more like I belong here.

The line moves fast, and soon I'm walking away with a large coffee that's way too hot and costs way too much. But at least it smells good, and the warmth feels nice in my hands.

"Hamilton Hall, Hamilton Hall," I repeat to myself, checking the map again while walking. It should be around this corner somewhere.

My phone buzzes again. Another text from Mom.

"Don't forget what we talked about! This is a fresh start for both of us. I love you so much!"

I smile a little despite everything. Mom really is happy, happier than I've seen her in years. After Dad died, she worked herself to death just to keep us going. She deserves this. She deserves Richard and his fancy house, and not having to worry about money anymore.

Even if it means I have to suffer through this place.

I'm reading her text and trying to walk at the same time when I realize I'm going too fast. There's a corner coming up, and I should probably slow down, but I'm already late and-

CRASH.

The collision happens so fast I don't even see it coming. One second I'm rushing around the corner, the next I'm slamming into something solid and warm. My coffee cup flies out of my hands like it has wings, and hot coffee goes everywhere. I mean everywhere. It splashes across the stone floor, it hits the walls, and worst of all, it soaks both me and whoever I just crashed into.

"Shit!" I gasp, looking down at my now coffee-stained shirt.

Then I look up.

Oh no. Oh no no no.

The guy standing in front of me, dripping with my coffee, is the most gorgeous person I've ever seen in real life. He's tall, maybe six feet, with broad shoulders that fill out his expensive-looking shirt perfectly. His hair is this perfect brown color that looks like he just rolled out of bed, but in a good way, all messy and soft-looking. And his eyes...

His eyes are hazel, this amazing mix of green and brown that would be beautiful if they weren't currently looking at me like I'm something disgusting. He stepped in.

"I'm so sorry," I stammer, reaching toward him like I can somehow fix this mess. "I didn't see you coming. I was looking at my phone and-"

"Are you kidding me right now?"

His voice is deep and smooth, the kind of voice that probably makes girls melt. But there's nothing attractive about the way he's looking at me. His expression shifts from shock to something worse. Disgust.

His eyes move down, taking in my thrift store jeans, my old sneakers, my coffee-stained shirt that probably cost ten dollars new. I watch his face change as he puts the pieces together. Rich boy meets scholarship kid. Popular guy meets nobody.

I feel my face burning with embarrassment. Around us, other students have stopped walking. They're staring, whispering to each other. Some of them have their phones out.

Great. My first day at Blackridge, and I'm already the entertainment.

"Look, I'm really sorry," I try again. "Maybe I can pay for dry cleaning or-"

"Pay for it?" He laughs, but it's not a nice sound. "With what?"

The hallway has gone completely quiet now. Everyone's watching, waiting to see what happens next. I can feel their eyes on me, judging my clothes, my face, everything about me that screams 'doesn't belong here.'

This is my worst nightmare come true.

The gorgeous guy looks me up and down again, and I see something cold settle in his expression. His mouth curves into a smile that makes my stomach drop to my shoes. It's not a friendly smile. It's the kind of smile that means trouble.

"Interesting," he says, his voice carrying in the quiet hallway. "Very interesting."

I don't know what he means by that, but I know it's not good. Everything about his tone, his expression, the way he's looking at me like I'm some kind of bug he's about to squash...

My day just went from bad to catastrophic.

And something tells me this gorgeous stranger is about to make it infinitely worse.

You may also like

Bought By My Obsessive Billionaire Ex Novel Cover
7.4
Four years ago, to protect the man I loved from losing his billionaire empire, I drugged his drink, told him I only used him for his money, and vanished. Now, at a high-society gala, Callum Wyatt is back. He isn't just a CEO anymore; he's a ruthless predator, and the second his eyes lock onto me, I know I am his prey. When my wealthy half-sister publicly humiliated me, calling me the cheap bastard child of a homewrecker, Callum stepped out of the shadows. He nearly snapped her wrist in half and declared to New York's elite that anyone who touched me would be dismantled. In the back of his Maybach, he pinned my arms above my head, his eyes burning with psychotic obsession. "If you run again, Aubrey, I will burn your entire world to the ground just to keep you." My heart bled. I had spent four grueling years tearing myself apart to keep him out of my messy, blood-soaked revenge against the family that watched my mother die. But his terrifying protection only made my biological father's family target me harder, using their massive capital to buy out my movie set and crush my acting career. They thought I would cower. But as I walked onto the soundstage, facing the heiress trying to steal my role, I took off my sunglasses. I wasn't running anymore; it was time to make them pay.
Divine Contract: Marrying My Phantom Prince Novel Cover
9.2
Clara was drowning in student debt and barely making rent when she downloaded a fantasy mobile game to escape reality. Inside the game, an exiled prince named Alex was freezing to death. Pitying him, she spent her last few dollars on microtransactions to fix his shelter and cure his poison. But the game was far too real. Every time she paid, the prince reacted. When she complained aloud about going broke, the in-game army suddenly halted, as if the prince had heard her voice. Then, the terrifying real-world consequences hit. Clara woke up to find her water glass and a box of Kleenex had vanished from her locked bedroom overnight. She frantically searched the tiny apartment, her heart pounding in her chest. She thought she was losing her mind. Had she thrown them out in her sleep? Was there a stalker hiding in her home? How could physical objects just disappear into thin air behind a deadbolted door? Until she looked at her nightstand. Sitting exactly where her missing items used to be was a glowing, weightless crystal cup that defied all logic. And on her laptop screen, the exiled prince was carefully holding her Kleenex box, offering a mountain of real gold on an altar. She hadn't just downloaded a mobile game; she had opened a cross-dimensional trade route with a desperate future king.
Genius Wife's Revenge: Too Late For Regret Novel Cover
7.7
For two years, I played the role of the "Midwestern mistake," the mousey wife Julian Ford-Sterling IV kept hidden like a shameful secret. I hid my true self behind thick glasses and ashen foundation, acting as the perfect, cowed charity case while he lived a life of marble and indifference. The day our marriage contract ended, the headlines were already screaming about his affair with Hollywood’s sweetheart, Lana Vane. Julian didn't even grant me a final conversation; he simply sent his legal team to hand me divorce papers that gave me nothing—no alimony, no shares, just a non-disclosure agreement and a one-way ticket out of his life. I signed the papers and walked away, but a drugged encounter in a dark club that same night led me back into his arms. We collided in the shadows, two strangers stripped of their titles, but I fled before dawn, accidentally leaving behind my vintage silver locket. By the time I reached my secret design studio the next morning, I discovered Julian had executed a hostile takeover of my entire life’s work. To my horror, Lana Vane was already there, clutching my stolen locket and shamelessly claiming she was the woman Julian had spent the night with. Julian stood before me in his charcoal suit, looking at me with total lack of recognition. To him, I was just a "gold-digging" architect he had bought along with the furniture. I watched them together, the man who had discarded me and the woman who had stolen my identity, realizing that Julian was obsessed with the genius of "Rose" while despising the woman who stood right in front of him. He had no idea that the wife he’d just divorced was the very person he was now desperate to control. I straightened my spine, my violet-blue eyes cold and lethal behind my new designer frames. "Mr. Ford-Sterling, you wanted the best designer in the city? You’ve got her. But you should know—I don't just build empires. I know exactly how to tear them down."
HIS CONTRACT WIFE IS HIS RUIN Novel Cover
9.2
He married her to control her. To break her. To own her. Seraphina let him believe it. She plays the quiet wife- soft voice, lowered eyes, perfect obedience. But behind every smile... is a plan he was never meant to survive. Because this marriage was never about love. Not even power. It was revenge. And when Lucien finally uncovers the truth- when he realizes who she really is... he won't be fighting to keep her. He'll be begging to escape her.
His Placeholder Bride, My Bitter Revenge Novel Cover
8.3
On the eve of my wedding to Grant Sutton, the heir to a vast real estate empire, I discovered the devastating truth. I wasn't his great love; I was just a convenient replacement for his wild, untamable ex, Ivory. He didn't love me. He loved that I was a polished, "suitable" version of the woman he truly wanted. When I walked away, he didn't just let me go. He destroyed me. After I published an exposé on his company's shady dealings, he had me fired and systematically ruined my reputation, painting me as a vengeful liar in the press. My own family turned on me, furious. "Think about us, Avery! You owe us this!" my sister shrieked, caring only about the fortune I'd lost them. I was left with nothing-no career, no family, no future. All because I was a placeholder in a love story that was never mine. Three years later, I came back. Not as the broken fiancée, but as A. Trevino, the anonymous journalist whose latest investigation targeted an elite institution. An institution with deep ties to the Sutton family. And this time, I wouldn't be the one who was destroyed.
His Unwanted Wife, My New Dawn Novel Cover
7.5
For six years, I was the wife of a tech billionaire with crippling mysophobia. To my husband, Killian, I was a contaminant he was forced to tolerate for a business merger, a ghost in my own home. But for his mistress, the influencer Isabel, every rule was broken. He worshipped her, believing she was the angel who' d saved him from a near-fatal climbing accident two years ago. The truth was, I was the one who braved a blizzard to rescue him, suffering severe frostbite in the process. But he laughed in my face, calling me too fragile. He knelt on a filthy police station floor to touch her bare feet, yet he' d recoiled from my touch for years. He destroyed my grandmother' s priceless locket because she wanted it. He forced me to kneel and apologize for her lies, threatening my family's company if I refused. The final humiliation came when he publicly declared her the true mistress of the house and made me climb a dangerous, thorny hill on my injured ankle to pick roses for her. As I stumbled back, covered in mud and blood, I felt nothing. The love I had stubbornly held onto was finally, completely dead. I walked away that night with the signed divorce papers in my hand. My old life was over, and my fight for a new one had just begun.