Page 29 of Shattered

He can see when I watch him.

Fuck it.

I’ve done it once. What’s the harm in a second time?

I click it and it’s someone with his phone recording him and Kal doing tricks on the ice. Kal and Brayden are impressively showcasing their skills by passing the puck to each other in midair. In another video, around six seconds in, Kal drops the puck and Brayden lifts his helmet up, winking at Kal with a smirk that makes my insides flip. The following image is a video of Brayden at the gym, lifting weights a few hours later. His toned arms in a tank top have captured my attention completely. A rush of excitement floods through me as I watch the muscles flex with each lift. With a focused expression and slightly flushed face, he lifts the weights in each arm, causing his biceps to grow with each curl. This was only posted fifteen minutes ago. I wonder if he’s still there. I prefer not being in the gym when the whole team is present, but from the mirror’s reflection, it appears only Trayton was there. A wave of exhilaration courses through me as I think about seeing him again, and I embrace the anticipation. I don’t think about it, and I don’t freak out about it. I let it go as I rise from my desk, knowing I have my gym gear in my locker. I grab my keys and walk out of the classroom. I need to release some tension after today, anyway.

The gym is eerily quiet as I step inside. I scan the area, expecting to find people among the machines, but it’s empty. Making my way toward the boxing gym doors, I open the door and am greeted by the sound of heavy breathing and the rhythmic thuds of fists meeting bags as I open them. Initially,I thought there were at least three people here based on the noises, but upon scanning the area, I only see one person in the corner.

One shirtless person.

Brayden.

I silently approach him, avoiding any sudden movements to observe him for a while longer. Brayden strikes the bag with remarkable speed, faster than most people I’ve seen. His swift and forceful strikes reverberate across the gym, giving the impression of multiple people pummeling bags, yet it’s solely him.

And now me, secretly, the way I wanted it.

With each strike, Brayden’s breathing grows harsher and sweat continues to stream down his chiseled body, effortlessly revealing the rippling muscles beneath his flawless exterior. His strength is palpable and his presence commanding attention from anyone that could catch a glimpse of his chiseled form.

I’m trying to convince myself to look elsewhere, but I’m unable to do so. I proceed to explore his body further, taking note of the loose gray sweatpants on his hips. My gaze wanders across his back and the air gets caught in my throat as a tingling sensation begins in my dick. All I can do is envision my hands gliding over his strong muscles, longing to feel their firmness. I move closer to him, as if being drawn by an invisible force, while Brayden moves in a circle now sideways on. Without warning, he comes to a halt and snatches the punch bag to halt its movement. Glancing sideways, his darkening swirls meet mine, and his shoulders rise rapidly as he takes deep breaths. It’s as if the world moves beneath me as our stare connects. His usual backward baseball cap is missing. His disheveled dark hair indicates that he has recently showered, but I know that’s only from him sweating profusely. Dark shadows frame his blue eyes, while a few wet strands hang over his face. I can’t resistthe urge to let my gaze wander downward, taking in his clear and untouched skin. My eyes can’t help but track the sweat droplets that shimmer on his glistening skin, emphasizing his well-defined form. My eyes widen as I admire his sculpted vee, a result of his hard work in both hockey and the gym. A solitary strand of hair stands alone in the center, beginning below his navel and vanishing under his sweatpants. I swiftly redirect my gaze to make eye contact with him before it can descend.

As the room remains dimly lit, his chest rises and falls quickly, his eyes never leaving mine, his breathing loud and heavy. Sweat drips down his forehead, shimmering in the low light. His eyes reveals his determination. His focus is intense. Despite appearing disheveled, he exudes a raw sense of power. He appears as if he’s on the verge of releasing a flood of emotions with his clenched jaw and tense muscles.

The rawness in his expression creates a sense of vulnerability that pulls me in. His eyes, incredibly blue and full of emotion, reveal a hidden depth within him. It’s as if he is baring his soul, exposing himself completely to me.

In that moment, I realize the strength in his vulnerability, the power in his imperfections. Despite his sweaty and disheveled appearance, he remains confident and determined. I’m captivated by the complexity of this kid, the way his vulnerable eyes furrow as they watch me, yet the strength in his body when he clenches his fist.

I find myself wanting to get lost in him.

“Sir.” His curious voice snaps me out of my observation.

“Brayden,” I rasp, my voice baring all my emotions, yet I’m too consumed by him to mind. As we both take in a lung full of air, our eyes remain locked on each other. My eyes drop to his lips, his full fucking lips. The lips that devour without mercy. His tongue slips out, causing me to stumble over my words as I shift my gaze back to him, only to find that he’s not looking atme anymore. Instead, his eyes are fixated on my slightly parted lips, as if inhaling through my nose has become too difficult. His piercing look lazily meets mine.

Our lustful trance is broken by a noise in the distance, causing us to snap back to reality.

“Yes, yes, Mr. Stiles.” Trayton’s voice resounds throughout the gym.

“Have you come to get some tips off the youngsters?” Brayden’s scoff makes me grin as I raise an eyebrow at Trayton, who has joined me.

“Mr. Stiles would have you on your ass in three seconds flat.” Brayden says, eyeing Trayton.

“What makes you so certain?” Trayton scans me from head to toe, as if trying to gauge me. Despite being only an inch shorter than me at 6ft 3, Trayton is just as broad.

“I just know,” Brayden says, as he turns toward the gym bag and keeps throwing punches. I don’t think it would be as easy as Brayden makes out, but the compliment makes me puff my chest a little. I clear my throat,

“I will leave you boys to it.” I offer Trayton a smile, keeping my lips sealed, then shift my gaze to Brayden, who is no longer interested in me. The only thing he’s paying attention to is the bag that moves back and forth in front of him.

I retreat, moving toward a bag at the other side of the gym, and as I reach it, I can’t resist checking over my shoulder.

Brayden stares straight at me. A slight smirk playing on his lips.

Why do I feel like this kid will be the death of me?

Trayton’s voice echoes across the gym hall, pulling me away from my workout. “See you in class, Teach!” he shouts. I quickly glance at the wall clock. It feels like I’ve been in here for hours, even though it’s only been fifty minutes.

With a wave to Trayton, I quickly wipe the sweat off my head. I take a quick glance at Brayden, who is using the jumping rope.

This kid has got some stamina.

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