Micah’s POV
"Dear Lord, please guide these young men as they walk through this campus. Keep them pure, shield them from worldly temptations, and let them walk in your righteousness."
My father’s booming voice cut through the humid morning air, echoing across the crowded courtyard. Humiliation burned hot in my chest as Noah and I knelt on the hard, scraping concrete right in front of the main college entrance. I could feel the amused, judging stares of passing students sticking to my skin, their quiet snickers making my blood boil. It was completely embarrassing, but you did not say no to Pastor Miller unless you wanted to face absolute wrath.
He finished the prayer with a loud, authoritative "Amen." We stood up quickly, my knees aching as I brushed the white dust off my jeans. My father adjusted his crisp suit jacket, fixing both of us with a strict, unyielding glare that always made me feel like I was under an interrogation lamp.
"Remember the rules of my house," he said, his voice dropping to a harsh, threatening whisper. "No cursing. No dating. And absolutely no lifestyle choices that defy the word of God. You represent me on this campus, and I expect total obedience."
I nodded quickly, anxiety knotting my stomach as I clutched my notebook tightly against my ribs like a shield.
"I will be incredibly busy at the main ministry building for the next few months to oversee the new church project," he continued, his sharp eyes darting between us. "I won’t be home, but do not think I won’t be dropping in randomly to check on you boys. Keep your slates clean."
We both nodded again, a heavy wave of relief washing over me as we watched him walk back to his car. We stood in tense silence until his vehicle finally drove off and cleared the campus gates.
The exact moment the car vanished, Noah let out a long, low breath, his entire posture relaxing. He turned to me, a playful spark in his eyes as he used the back of his fist to tap the centre of my chest. "How long is he going to keep doing that? Everyone was staring at us, Micah. It is exhausting."
My heart did a violent flip at the sudden physical contact. I forced myself to look annoyed, hiding the sudden rush of heat under my clothes. "He has been doing it since I was in kindergarten. I am pretty sure he is never going to stop."
Noah smirked, hitting my chest gently a second time, completely unaware of how much his casual touch was wrecking my sanity. "I guess the old man is just trying to look out for us in his own twisted way."
I watched Noah turn and walk toward the athletic facilities, his broad shoulders shifting effortlessly under his jacket. I stayed frozen on the sidewalk for a long, agonising moment, my hand moving up to press against the exact spot where his fist had landed.
My heart hammered wildly against my ribs. I closed my eyes for a brief second, letting a wave of desperate, forbidden longing consume me. I instantly imagined him stripping out of his heavy gear after a game, sweaty and flushed, pinning me against the locker room wall just to tell me I belonged to him.
I snapped my eyes open, a jolt of panic striking me, and forced the filthy thought away. I needed to get to my academic advisor’s office to secure my schedule for the semester before I lost my mind completely.
I wrapped both arms tightly around my notebook as I walked through the corridors. Keeping it in my backpack was way too risky. I had misplaced it once during the previous term, and someone had almost found it. I had to guard this book with my life because it held the dark secrets that would destroy my family.
An hour later, I finally walked out of the advisor’s office, feeling completely drained and stressed. The man had spent the entire time lecturing me, explaining that my campus points were too low to graduate. He told me I had to join a department or a sports team immediately if I wanted to increase my score and move to the next level. I stared down at the paperwork in my hands, sighing heavily as I navigated the crowded hallway, my mind completely overwhelmed.
Because I was so distracted by my looping thoughts, I crashed straight into someone.
"Oh, I am so sorry," I stammered, rubbing my forehead from the sharp impact.
I looked up and froze, my breath catching in my throat. A girl dressed in a full gothic outfit was standing right in front of me. She wasn’t looking at me, though. Her eyes were wide, holding an open notebook and reading the lines hungrily. My stomach dropped into a bottomless pit of pure terror. It was my notebook. It must have slipped from my grip during the collision.
My eyes scanned the open page, recognising my own frantic handwriting instantly.
’His thick fingers gripped my hips tightly, pulling me flush against his hard chest as he whispered complete filth into my ear. I gasped aloud, entirely consumed by the raw heat of his skin, begging him to break every single rule I had ever been taught.’
A surge of hot adrenaline hit me. I reached out and yanked the notebook out of her hands with a hard, aggressive snap. "Don’t touch that!" I frowned, my face burning with a sudden mix of intense panic and protective anger.
She didn’t look offended or shocked at all. She just blew a casual bubble with her chewing gum and blinked at me with intense curiosity. "I am sorry I read it, but did you actually write that?"
I stared at her, my muscles tense as I kept my guard up, before a sudden realisation hit me. I knew exactly who she was from the campus flyers. She was the head of the campus journalism team.
"Yes, I did," I answered stiffly, trying to sound tough despite the sweat breaking out on the back of my neck.
Her face instantly beamed, and she looked like she was about to scream with pure excitement. "Wow. I am so lucky that I spied on your book."
"You should be saying sorry, not celebrating," I snapped, feeling completely exposed.
"Yeah, I am sorry, and I am lucky," she said, leaning much closer to me, her voice dropping to an excited murmur. "Listen, I have been looking for someone exactly like you. I want you."
My eyes widened in absolute shock, my father’s strict voice screaming in my head. "What? No. I have to focus on my education for now, and dating is completely out of the question."
"Huh? Wait, stop!" She waved her hands frantically, cutting me off with a loud, amused laugh. "I mean, I want your writing, not you physically. Well, I mean, I want you on my team. Look, just come with me right now."
"But I have to get to class," I protested, but my voice lacked any real strength.
She wasn’t listening to my excuses. She grabbed my wrist with a surprisingly tight grip and immediately started dragging me down the corridor.
She led me straight into the journalism team’s main office. The room was absolute chaos, filled with stressed-out students drowning themselves in coffee and shouting over page layouts. She carefully stepped over scattered piles of paper, and I did the same, following her into a tiny back office that managed to look even messier.
Without saying a single word, she cleared a spot on her desk and spread out a collection of glossy photos. I leaned forward, and my jaw dropped as a rush of heat hit my groin. They were high-quality photos of the different sports teams on campus. Football, basketball, and hockey. Right in the middle of the pile was Noah.
I instinctively reached out, my fingers trembling slightly as I picked it up. It was a half-nude photo of him in the locker room, water glistening beautifully on his bare, muscular chest. My mouth went completely dry with desire.
"Noah Miller," she said, taking the picture right out of my hand, which instantly snapped me back to reality. "So hot. But honestly, that is all we really know about him."
"What exactly do you want from me?" I asked, my voice tight as I tried to regain my composure.
She picked up a pen and smirked, looking at me like a predator who had just trapped its prey. "I need you to be our anonymous erotic writer. You are going to get close to the players, take hot and spicy photos of them, and then write about them. To sum it up, you are going to write about the secret erotic life of the hockey team. Their secret hookups, their kinks, all of it. Interested?"
I heard her words, but my brain completely bypassed the massive danger and sinful nature of the assignment. The fear of my father faded into the background, replaced by a sudden, intoxicating rush of adrenaline.
The only phrase looping in my head was the realisation that I would have a legitimate, work-related excuse to be in the locker room, taking unfiltered, naked pictures of Noah.
"I’ll do it," I agreed immediately, a dark excitement settling deep in my chest.