S O P H I A H O N E Y

"THEO IS on fire!"

Someone shouts from the bench, loud enough that a few heads turn. I glance up from where I'm sitting on the bleachers and spot one of the hockey players-big guy, probably defense. His teammates must agree, because the next second, a loud chorus of cheers and whistles erupts, echoing across the rink.

I shift my camera slightly, zooming in on Theo as he speeds across the ice. His movements are smooth, controlled-completely locked in. Even from here, I can see the slight smirk on his face, like he knows he's killing it and doesn't even have to try.

He eventually slows when he hears the coach call an end to practice. He pulls off his helmet, running a hand through his sweaty hair-his face is glowing with that post-practice high, all flushed and glistening. And then... he lifts his shirt to wipe his face.

And just like that, my throat goes dry and a hot ache pulses between my legs. My thighs instantly press together like that might somehow help, but it doesn't.

It's been a week since we got back from Miami, and everything is... frustratingly normal.

And by normal, I mean him acting like nothing happened. Like he didn't kiss me like he owned me. Like he didn't fuck me so good I nearly forgot my own name. Like he didn't look me dead in the eyes and ruin every other man for me.

Now, back at the apartmentnt, we've fallen into the usual routine. He hides in his room again. Works out at three a.m. like he's training for a secret Olympic event. And when we do cross paths, it's stupid little things-asking if I've seen his charger (as if it's not always in his room), or if I need anything when he goes out, even though the fridge is overflowing because apparently he's decided to become my personal grocery god.

Meanwhile, I sit on the couch pretending my heart isn't trying to crawl out of my chest every time he walks around shirtless, looking like sin in motion.

He's not fooling anyone.

Because I catch the way his eyes drop when I walk around in shorts. The way his jaw tightens, like he's punishing himself just for looking. Like I'm a sin he's already tasted and swore never to touch again.

Spoiler: it makes me want to scream-or beg. Or both.

He looks at me like a man starving. Like I'm the one thing he wants and can't have. And if he doesn't snap soon, I might just take matters into my own damn hands.

Literally.

And then there's hockey. God. Hockey Theo is a whole different animal. I can't believe I never noticed it before, but now? After Miami? I get it. I fucking get it.

The way he grips that stick. The way the veins pop along his forearms. The flex of his wrist when he flicks a pass across the ice like it's nothing. Every movement is like watching sex in slow motion. It's criminal.

I want those hands on me. That same brutal focus. That same wrist-flexing, jaw-clenching energy-on me. In me.

I want him to drag me into the locker room and shut me up with his mouth. I want to feel those strong thighs caging mine while his name spills from my lips, again and again. I want those hands gripping my hips as he pulls my hair just right.

I want that same focus he has on the ice-on me. Driving into me like he has something to prove. Like I'm the goal. I want him to ruin me-properly, fully, completely, only this time, I don't want him to pretend it didn't happen.

And if the locker room isn't an option? Fine. The kitchen counter at the apartment. The couch. Up against the wall. He can pin me anywhere as long as he does something-

"Sophie?"

I jolt, blinking hard. My face is hot. So hot.

Shame floods me when I remember I'm still at the rink-sitting with Blair, Alex, and a few others from class and the hockey team while I'm mentally spiraling into a full-on fantasy about being railed by Theo.

Lord. Have. Mercy.

"Uh... yes?" I reply, looking over at her just as Alex fiddles with her camera. She's squinting at the viewfinder, trying to frame the perfect action shot of the team.

"I just said Miami must've been fun for him," she says casually. "I mean Theo. He looks a little different... but not bad different."

Blair snorts from the other end. "You mean 'I had great sex' different," she says, then glances at Theo again. "He looks like he had the best time of his life in Miami. Soph, how many girls do you think he slept with in just a day to be walking around in such a good mood?"

Girls?

I could roll my eyes so hard they'd get stuck in the back of my skull.

There were no girls. Not really. Just one.

And you're looking at her.

I haven't told them what actually happened yet.

I still haven't worked up the nerve to say it out loud-how could I even begin? I'm the one who swore, swore, he was the last guy I'd ever let near me. Said it to their faces like it was gospel. And then I went and did the exact opposite.

"I don't know," I say smoothly, keeping my voice calm even as my pulse starts to race. "I was too busy looking around the surroundings."

"But-" Blair starts again but pauses when she sees Tory heading towards us. Tory stops in front of us then Blair asks,"Are we done?"

Tory nods. "Yep, We're done for today. You guys can go first."

She had told us earlier to just get a few shots of the guys practicing-nothing too intense since there's a game coming up. Just some casual content to help boost the team's fan base.

Blair yawns as she gets up and stretches. "Good. Because as much as I'd love to stay and drool over hot guys, I have a test coming up in a few days-and failing is not an option."

Oh. Right. Almost forgot about that.

One of the lecturers had warned us about a surprise test, and his class is in a few days. Some people are betting that's when he'll spring it.

"Didn't know you were into studying, Blair," Tory teases, grinning.

"I'm not," Blair says, matter-of-factly. "I mean, seriously-it's studying. Who actually enjoys it?"

"I do," Alex pipes up, deadpan.

"Aside from you," Blair rolls her eyes. "Any normal person who doesn't stay up till 3 a.m. hugging textbooks would rather eat dirt than study."

"So you're saying I'm not normal?"

"Yes." Blair smirks, then flops back down, dramatically resting her head on Alex's shoulder with big, exaggerated puppy eyes. "But that's okay. It means you'll help me when the time comes-and by help, I obviously mean cheat."

"If you pay me, I will," Alex replies casually.

Blair gasps dramatically and sits up. "Since when did you start loving money? Don't tell me I'm a bad influence now."

"Oh, you absolutely are," Alex says, looking like she's holding back a laugh. "Before I met you, I used to be pure."

Blair scoffs. "Pure, my foot."

Alex laughs as she stands up, and Blair and I follow her. Before Tory heads off, she reminds us to send over the recent photos, then walks over to talk to the guys who also volunteered to help out.

We leave the rink, the chill still clinging to our jackets, and we're already halfway to Alex's car when she glances at me.

"Want me to drop you off at your apartment?"

"Uh, no." I shake my head, already feeling the nerves start to build in my chest. "Let's go to your dorm instead. I... I have something to tell you guys."

They exchange a quick glance, brows raised in curiosity, but neither says a word. Alex just nods, and we pile into her car. The drive is quiet, the kind that makes my heart beat louder than the music playing faintly through the speakers.

Blair is the first to push open the door to the dorm room, tossing her bag on the floor and falling her back on her bed. Alex follows behind her, and I'm the last to step inside, quietly locking the door behind me. My hands are clammy.

I sit on Alex's bed while she takes the chair nearby, watching me closely.

"So... what did you want to tell us?" she asks.

Blair sits up on her bed, her expression suddenly serious. Both of them are locked in now, waiting.

I take a deep breath and stall for a few seconds longer.

"I had sex with Theo," I finally blurt out. "In Miami."

Silence.

Instant, deafening silence-followed by two sets of eyes widening and jaws dropping in perfect sync.

Blair blinks a few times, like she's trying to reboot her brain. "Wait... wait, you had sex with Theo?" Her lips slowly curl into a smirk. "In just one day in Miami? Damn, girl."

My cheeks burn hot as embarrassment creeps up my neck. I shift awkwardly, glancing at Alex, who looks stunned for a second... then her expression smooths out like she saw this coming a mile away.

"Took longer than I expected," she says, casually moving to sit beside Blair. "Honestly, I thought it would've happened the day Blair and I came by to return your phone."

"Right?" Blair's eyes go wide. "It was like sex was in the air that day. You two were so tense."

I blink. "Wait... you guys knew we were going to have sex?"

Alex rolls her eyes. "Who wouldn't? You've been giving each other the look at the rink all week."

"What look?" I choke out a laugh.

"The fuck me look," Blair says, kicking off her shoes like this is just another Tuesday. "You totally blackout when Tory needs you to take photos of the others. And when it's time to interview anyone but Theo, you're fine. But if it's him? You either bolt or try really hard to pretend like he's invisible. Emphasis on try."

Alex nods. "Why did you think I called you at the rink today? You were literally eye-fucking the poor guy and I don't even want to know what dirty thoughts filled your mind during that time."

Trust me you don't.

I cover my face with both hands, groaning. "Oh my god. Was it that obvious?"

"Painfully," Alex says, and Blair nods like she's been holding it in for weeks.

"You guys have this whole forbidden, slow-burn, will-they-won't-they energy," Blair adds, leaning back on her palms. "Except it was less slow-burn and more a wildfire waiting for one spark."

I drop my hands and look at them, cheeks still burning. "Okay, well... the spark definitely happened."

Blair squeals and grabs a pillow, hugging it tight. "I need details. Don't just drop 'I had sex with Theo' like that's a casual update. Spill!"

Alex lifts a brow, more amused than shocked now. "Yeah. What exactly went down in Miami? Tell us."

And so I did. I was careful with most parts-especially the ones involving his father and all the crap that went down-but I twisted the story just enough. I told them he was in a really bad mood, I tried to find out what was wrong, and... well, one thing led to another.

Blair, of course, couldn't stop asking how big he was. I told her it was big enough-because if it could make me say things I never expected to think, then yeah, it was big.

"Woah," Blair said, clearly satisfied with my explanation. "No wonder you were asking me about craving sex with someone. You were totally touch-starved for him." She wiggled her brows, grinning.

I groaned, hiding my face in my hands. "It's not even funny, Blair."

"Why?" she teased. "Or are you not satisfied?"

Satisfied?

I'm far from that word.

"Oh, I know that look," Blair says, wearing a smug expression. "You horny bitch. You want to get fucked again. One time wasn't enough, huh?"

"No, it wasn't," I groan, finally giving in. As embarrassing as it is to admit out loud, they're my friends-I should be able to talk about this. "It's like... I should be okay, right? I thought I would be, but-"

"Him being your roommate doesn't make it easy, does it?" Blair cuts in, clearly enjoying my discomfort.

I throw a pillow at her. "No, it doesn't," I mutter, dragging a hand down my face. "He walks around shirtless. Sometimes in a towel. And then he has the nerve to act like nothing happened."

Alex raises a brow. "Wait, he acts normal?"

"Too normal," I say, my voice rising with frustration. "Like it didn't change anything for him. Meanwhile, I'm over here debating if I should wear a bra under my hoodie because God forbid my nipples betray me the moment he says good morning."

Blair bursts out laughing. "You're down bad, girl."

"I know!" I flop back on the bed dramatically. "It's like every time I think I've got a grip, he does something stupidly hot like leaning over me to reach the top shelf or calling me 'princess' when I'm mad. Who does that?"

Alex smiles knowingly. "Someone who knows exactly what he's doing."

I groan again. "Ugh. I swear if I don't get my head straight, I'm going to end up jumping him again and then what? Be even more confused?"

"Or," Blair says with a shrug, "you just keep jumping him until you're not confused anymore."

I sit up and narrow my eyes. "That is not good advice."

"It's fun advice," she counters with a grin.

"Alex," I turn to her, desperate for a sane voice. "What do you think?"

She shrugs, cool as ever. "I say have fun. I mean, what's the harm? You guys already jumped on each other. Maybe he's just been busy and hasn't had time to make a move."

"Or..." Blair leans in, eyes gleaming. "He's waiting for you to make the move. There's a difference between vacation sex and regular-life sex. Maybe he thinks making a move now would seem like rushing you."

I groan. "So what should I do, then?"

"Seduce him," Blair says without hesitation, and Alex nods in agreement.

"Yeah," Alex adds, "wear the hottest thing you own. Something silky. Or short. Or see-through. Just make sure it shuts him up the moment he sees you."

"And then...?" I ask, already imagining it-because God help me, I need this.

"Touch him a little," Blair grins. "Light touches. Start a random conversation-ask how the weather was, pretend to care. Just keep his attention. Then boom-you're screaming his name so loud, your neighbors think you're being murdered."

I cover my face with both hands as Alex laughs. "You guys are the worst influences."

"And yet, here we are," Blair smirks. "Ready to help you get absolutely ruined."

Could I really be considering this?

Seducing him?

As much as I want to be satisfied by him again, I don't think I can actually go through with it while being completely in my right mind. It feels... bold. Too bold.

But God, I want to be touched. I want him.

So bad.

I sigh, pushing my doubts aside, and look at them with determination blazing in my eyes.

"I'll do it."

I can do this. I have to.

◇◇◇

I can't do this.

I thought I could, but it seems like all that lust and confidence I had earlier got flushed away-and logic decided to take its place.

After that little chat with the girls, I stuck around for a short study session. Just an hour, enough to get an idea of what might pop up in the surprise test. Then I came back to the apartment, half-expecting to run into Theo. But he wasn't home.

That was hours ago.

It's currently 11 p.m., and still no sign of him. I'm not panicking, not really-he tends to come back late anyway. And it's not like I have a right to question his schedule.

It's his life.

I sigh, leaning back on the couch, bored out of my mind. I used to think being alone was peaceful, especially when I was back home. But right now? I'd trade anything for some noise. Some chaos.

I get up and wander into the kitchen, opening the fridge in hopes of finding something to drink-preferably alcohol. Maybe a little liquid courage would help. No luck.

I tug at the robe tied loosely over my white satin nightwear-the only decent thing I owned that could maybe pass as seductive. I even went as far as taking a long bath and spraying my favorite perfume, just in case.

But he's not back.

"This is dumb," I mutter, setting the empty glass down on the counter. It's late. He'll probably be too tired anyway.

Maybe it really was a one-time thing.

I'm still sulking when the door suddenly creaks open, and I freeze. A few steps forward confirms it-Theo's home.

And just like that, the lust I thought I'd buried comes crashing back in a tidal wave.

He steps inside, shutting the door behind him quietly, like he's trying not to wake anyone. His dark hoodie is pulled over his head, hair slightly messy like he'd been running his hands through it. He hasn't seen me yet.

I suddenly become very aware of how thin the satin nightwear is beneath my robe.

Theo finally looks up-and freezes.

His eyes rake over me, slowly, as if unsure he's seeing what he's actually seeing. And then... they darken.

"Hey," he says, his voice low, a little hoarse like he's tired-but now there's something else layered under it.

I try to play it cool, despite my heart racing like crazy. "Hey."

He blinks, closes the door fully behind him, and starts walking toward me. "Oh yeah... sorry I'm late. One of the guys got injured during practice, so a few of us stayed back until a friend of his came to pick him up."

"Oh. I hope he's okay now. Was it that bad?" I ask, doing my best to steady my voice as he steps closer.

He shakes his head with a sigh, chuckling lightly. "It's a little serious, but he'll be fine."

I nod, and even though he stops a few feet away, I already feel a heat rising between my thighs.

Calm your horny ass, Soph.

"Okay then," I say, the silence between us suddenly stretching and loud.

He doesn't say anything more, and I'm desperately trying to think of what to do or say next to make it obvious I want him to jump me-

"I guess you're off to bed," he says, voice casual, eyes pointedly trying not to stare at my chest-but he's failing.

"Yeah." Why the hell did I say yes?!

He nods. "Okay then. Good night."

Wait-what?

"Good night?" I repeat, stunned. "Is that all you have to say?"

Is he serious right now?

I'm at my limit here. If he doesn't want to fuck me, fine-I'll just grab my damn dildo, deal with it myself, and fall asleep with unresolved sexual tension.

He narrows his eyes. "Am I supposed to say something else?"

Oh, screw you. "No. No, nothing. There's nothing to say. I hear you-loud and clear. You must be tired. You should sleep."

"Soph-"

"Good night, Theo." I turn on my heel and stomp off, ignoring the confused look on his face and the way his expression falls. I'm too pissed off-and way too turned on-to think logically right now.

Does he not notice what I'm wearing?

Has he ever seen me in something like this?

Is the nightwear not revealing enough?

I slam the door behind me, not even caring how loud it is. Marching over to my drawer, I yank it open and grab the one thing that's not going to disappoint me tonight: my dildo.

If he won't give it to me, I'll just deal with it the artificial way.

I spread my legs apart as I lay flat on my bed, the sheets cool under my back but my skin flushed with heat. My nightwear is already barely-there, so it doesn't take much to lift the fabric to my waist side while gripping the dildo tightly like its his fault that I'm not getting laid.

My hand trembles slightly as I slide it down, still fuming, still hot-still thinking about Theo's dumb, polite "good night" and the way he stood there like he didn't just spend the last few days invading my dreams and every private thought.

He wanted me. I know he did.

So why the hell was he pulling away now?

I bite my lip as I press the tip of the dildo against my entrance, then sliding it in slowly and gasp at the stretch, but... it's not the same.

Not even close.

My free hand slides up over my stomach, brushing against my breast against my nightwear. I gasp when I touch my nipple-sensitive, aching-and my thumb rolls over it slowly.

I miss his mouth.

God, he knew exactly how to use it.

I squeeze my eyes shut tighter, letting the memory crash into me. Him licking a slow stripe between my breasts before sucking one nipple into his mouth, his hands pinning my hips down so I couldn't move, couldn't run from how good it felt.

"Fuck," I whimper, my hips bucking up as I try to get the dildo in deeper, angling it just right-but it's not working. My hand can't mimic the way he moved inside me, the way he gripped my thighs and-

My thumb pinches my nipple again and I moan out loud, raw and desperate. "Theo..."

I freeze.

I shouldn't be saying his name. I know I shouldn't. But I'm so close, too close, and everything hurts in that delicious way and I need this. I need him.

My hand speeds up, but it's still not enough. The angle's wrong. The rhythm's off. I can't-

I let out a frustrated groan, tossing my head back against the pillow.

"This is so fucking stupid," I hiss, even as I keep moving it, because the ache is unbearable now. "Why won't he just come in here and-fuck-"

I gasp, pushing the dildo deeper, pretending it's him.

But it isn't. It's not nearly as thick or as deep or alive.

And I'm mad about it.

"Fucking coward," I mutter, tears of frustration starting to prick at the corners of my eyes.

I thrust faster, harder, trying to push past it. Trying to use this anger to get there, to make myself come and forget about him altogether. But the closer I get, the more empty it feels.

The hand at my breast grips tighter, and I arch into it, imagining it's his hand instead. His voice. His breath at my ear.

You're so wet for me, Soph.

I moan.

You missed this, didn't you?

I cry out softly, my body trembling.

"Fuck... Theo," I moan out louder this time, unable to hold it back.

I try to stop myself, try to muffle the sound with my hand, but it's too late. The pleasure is building too quickly, too strong.

I'm right on the edge, when-

The door creaks.

I freeze.

My heart stops.

And then it races.

He's there.

Theo.

I thought perhaps its my imagination create him but no.

He's really here.

In the doorway. Fully inside now.

And he's watching me.

His eyes are wide, his chest heaving like he ran all the way down the hall-and those eyes? They're glued to where my hand is still between my legs, the dildo buried halfway inside me, my body trembling from the edge I can't quite fall off.

He doesn't say a word.

He doesn't have to.

Because the look on his face says it all.

I don't stop. I keep sliding the dildo in and out of me, slow and steady, watching the way his jaw tightens like he's holding something back-like he's only a few steps away from losing all control.

"What... what are you doing here?" I ask, dragging the toy out deliberately slow, watching his throat bob as he swallows hard.

"I heard my name," he says, voice tight, rough around the edges. "So I thought... maybe you needed help."

The way he says it makes my core clench.

I prop myself up on one elbow, dragging my fingers lazily up my inner thigh, knowing exactly what I'm doing to him. "I see... well, as you can see-I'm fine."

His eyes drag over every inch of me. "I do see."

I smirk. "Then you can leave... or..."

"Or..." His voice is low, desperate, and when his eyes meet mine again, I swear I feel it between my legs. "Or what, love? Please... tell me."

"Or..." I let the word roll off my tongue slowly, like honey, as I pull the dildo out and let it drop to the floor with a soft thud. "You can get in here," I tilt my head, "and show me how sorry you are... for pretending you didn't want me."