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 3

Bryson's POV

My phone has been buzzing nonstop for three days.

Every time I look at it, there's another text from Mom. Each one more excited than the last, full of heart emojis and exclamation points that make my chest tight with guilt.

"How are your classes going? Have you made any friends yet?"

"Remember what we talked about - this is your chance to really belong somewhere!"

"Richard says the campus has amazing clubs and activities. You should try something new!"

I stare at the latest message while sitting on my dorm room bed, trying to figure out how to respond. How do I tell her that her new husband's son's friends have made me their personal entertainment? How do I explain that I can't walk across campus without hearing whispers about the dining hall incident?

I can't. She's too happy.

Mom deserves this happiness after everything she's been through. After Dad died, she worked two jobs just to keep us afloat. She deserves Richard and his fancy house, and not having to worry about money anymore. She deserves to believe that everything is perfect, that her son is thriving at this expensive school she never could have afforded on her own.

Even if it's a lie.

"Everything's great, Mom. Still settling in, but it's good."

I hit send before I can change my mind.

The truth is, things have gotten worse since the dining hall. I found out the gorgeous asshole's name is Julian Hayes, and apparently, he runs this entire school. Everywhere I go, I hear his name. Girls talking about how hot he is, guys talking about hockey stats and parties at his place, professors mentioning his family's donations to the university.

He's like campus royalty, and I'm the peasant who dared to spill coffee on the prince.

The worst part is that I can't stop thinking about him. Not in a good way - well, not entirely in a good way. Every time I see him across the quad with his perfect hair and that confident smile, my blood boils. But underneath the anger is something else, something I don't want to think about.

He's gorgeous. Even when he's being a complete bastard, even when he's humiliating me in front of half the school, he's still the most attractive guy I've ever seen.

Which makes me hate him even more.

My phone buzzes again-another text from Mom.

"Oh! Richard mentioned that his family is really into hockey. Maybe you should try out for the team! Wouldn't that be amazing?"

I actually laugh out loud. The sound echoes in my empty dorm room, bitter and sharp.

Hockey. Right. Because what I really need is to embarrass myself even more, this time on ice in front of an entire arena.

But then I keep reading.

"I know it sounds scary, but you're so athletic! Remember how good you were at soccer in high school? Richard says the Hayes family has been involved with Blackridge hockey for generations. It would be such a wonderful way to fit in!"

The Hayes family. I wonder if they're related to that Julian Hayes guy who's been making my life hell. Probably not - Hayes is a common enough name, and there are lots of rich families at this school.

The idea is so ridiculous that I almost text her back to explain how impossible it is. But then I think about how excited she sounded when she called last night, how she kept talking about family traditions and bringing our families together.

She wants this so badly.

"I'll think about it," I text back.

It's not a lie. I am thinking about it. I'm thinking about how completely insane it would be to step onto ice I've never skated on in my life, wearing gear I can't afford, just to get demolished by Julian Hayes in front of the entire team.

But I'm also thinking about Mom's voice when she talks about our "new family." I'm thinking about how hard she's trying to make this work, how much she wants me to be happy here.

I love her enough to do almost anything for her happiness.

Even humiliate myself further.

The week crawls by like torture. Julian's friends have turned harassing me into some kind of hobby. Nothing obvious enough to report - they're too smart for that. Just constant little things. Bumping into me in hallways. Making comments loud enough for me to hear. Laughing when I walk by.

"There goes coffee boy," I hear Tyler say as I pass their table in the library.

"Think he's learned to watch where he's walking yet?" Marcus adds.

I keep my head down and keep walking, but my hands clench into fists at my sides.

Every time I see Julian across campus, that perfect smile on his face like he owns the world, I want to punch something. But I also can't stop staring. He moves like he knows everyone's watching him, confident and easy, like gravity works differently for him than it does for the rest of us.

It's infuriating.

It's also kind of mesmerizing, which makes me hate myself almost as much as I hate him.

By Thursday, I'm ready to transfer schools. I'm actually looking up application deadlines for other colleges when my roommate, Danny, bursts through the door.

"Dude, you have to come to this party tomorrow night," he says, dropping his backpack and flopping onto his bed. "Everyone's talking about it. It's going to be epic."

"What party?"

"The Morrison party. Jake Morrison's family has this huge house off campus, and apparently, they're throwing some massive thing. The whole hockey team's going to be there, plus like half the school."

My stomach drops. The hockey team means Julian.

"I'm good," I say, turning back to my laptop. "Parties aren't really my thing."

"Come on, man. You've been hiding in this room all week. When's the last time you actually had fun?"

I can't remember, honestly. But that doesn't mean I want to go somewhere I'll be surrounded by people who think I'm a joke.

"I said I'm good."

But Danny won't let it go. He spends the next hour trying to convince me, listing all the reasons why I should go. Free alcohol, hot girls, good music, chance to "expand my social circle."

What he doesn't understand is that my social circle here is basically him and the girl in my economics class, who sometimes lets me borrow a pen.

Friday arrives with more buzzing from my phone. Mom's texts have evolved into full paragraphs about hockey tryouts and family bonding and how proud she is of me for "putting myself out there."

I haven't put myself out there. I've been hiding like a coward.

Maybe that's part of the problem.

"You're coming tonight," Danny announces when he gets back from his afternoon classes. "I already told people you'd be there."

"You what?"

"Look, I know you're nervous about fitting in, but you can't hide forever. These people aren't as bad as you think they are."

If only he knew.

But as the afternoon wears on, something changes in my head. Maybe it's all of Mom's texts about being brave and trying new things. Maybe it's the memory of Julian's cold smile in the dining hall. Maybe I'm just tired of feeling like a victim.

Whatever it is, by the time Danny starts getting ready, I find myself digging through my closet for something that doesn't look completely pathetic.

"Wait, are you actually coming?" Danny asks, pausing with his shirt halfway over his head.

"Maybe," I say, pulling out the one decent shirt I own. It's nothing special, just a dark blue button-down that Mom bought me for high school graduation, but it's clean, and it fits okay.

"Dude, that's awesome! You're going to have a great time, I promise."

I'm not sure about that. But I'm sure about one thing - I'm tired of everyone at this school thinking I'm some fragile charity case who can be scared away by a few mean comments.

I'm tired of hiding.

If Julian Hayes and his friends want to see me as weak, fine. But I'm not going to make it easy for them by disappearing.

"Yeah," I say, looking at myself in the mirror. "Let's go to this party."

Danny grins and claps me on the shoulder. "That's the spirit! Trust me, this is going to be epic."

I'm not sure epic is the word I'd use.

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.