Frequencies of Us Chapter 63: Tracks and a Tease

Mateo POV

I’m on the track, sneakers hitting dirt, sweat pouring down my face. Noah’s by the sidelines, holding my phone, timing me. My heart’s pounding loud, fast, from running and from him watching me. I push harder, legs burning, wanting to impress him. He smirks, yells out, “Faster, or I’ll spank you!” His voice is teasing, low, and my stomach flips, heat rushing through me quick.

I finish my lap, breathing hard, and jog over, grinning wide. He steps close, hands me my phone, and our fingers brush, warm and quick. My chest tightens, wanting him bad, and I say, “Shower time.” He nods, eyes dark, and follows me in, steps light. We’re alone in the locker room, air hot, sticky, and I lock the door, heart slamming wild.

I pull him into the showers, water already running, and push him against the wall, fast. My lips crash into his, hard, kissing him deep. He moans, loud, hands grabbing my neck, pulling me closer. “Fuck, Noah,” I mutter, kissing him again, tongue sliding in, tasting him. My dick’s hard, pressing my shorts, and I grind into him, feeling him through his jeans. Water slicks us, hot and wet, and he groans, needy, making my body burn.

I rip his shirt off, tossing it, and run my hands over his chest, feeling his heartbeat racing. He yanks my shorts down, quick, and my dick springs out, thick and ready. I tug his jeans off, fast, and pin him back, lifting his legs. His back hits the wall, water pouring over us, and I spit in my hand, slicking up, pressing against him. I slide in, deep, hard, and he gasps, loud, nails clawing my shoulders.

I thrust, hot and wet, slamming into him, water splashing loud. He’s tight, gripping me, and I groan, low, loving it. “You’re mine,” I say, voice rough, and he nods, moaning, “Yes, Mateo.” I fuck him faster, hips snapping, feeling him shake under me. His nails dig in, scratching hard, and I thrust deeper, heat building fast in my gut. Water slicks our bodies, steamy and wild, and I grab his dick, pumping quick, matching my rhythm.

He’s panting, loud, head tipping back, and I fuck him harder, wall rattling. “Cum for me,” I growl, sweating under the spray, and he tenses, dick jerking in my hand. He cums, hot and thick, spilling over my fingers, and it hits me—I cum too, deep inside him, groaning loud, body shaking. Cum drips down our thighs, mixing with water, and I hold him there, breathing fast, chest pressed to his.

I kiss him slow, soft, lips shaky, and he smiles, small, warm. My heart feels big, full, like he’s everything. I pull out, set him down, and we stand under the water, hands brushing. “Love you,” I whisper, quiet, and he squeezes my arm, tight, making my chest skip, happy again. We grab our clothes, still wet, and I grin, buzzing, feeling strong with him.

But then Caleb bangs on the door, loud and fast. My stomach drops, cold hitting quick, and I unlock it, mad already. He stumbles in, face pale, saying, “Mateo, listen.” I glare, chest tight, and snap, “What now?” He swallows, steps closer, and says, “Lena’s got audio. You and Noah, talking.” My heart jumps, ice running through me, and I grab his shirt, pulling hard. “Audio of what?” I ask, voice hard, scared.

He shakes his head, says, “I don’t know, just heard her laughing about it.” My chest burns, mad and afraid, and I shove him back, yelling, “Why didn’t you stop her?” He stumbles, mutters, “I tried,” and I turn to Noah, mad spilling over. “You should’ve hacked faster,” I snap, voice loud, and his face falls, hurt flashing quick. “I’m trying,” he says, quiet, but I pace, fists tight, head spinning with fear.

I kick a locker, loud, pain shooting up my leg, and feel sick, like we’re caught. Noah grabs my arm, says, “Mateo, calm down,” but I pull away, chest heaving, mad at him, mad at everything. My head’s a mess, audio looping in my mind, and I wonder what she’s got—us kissing, fucking, fighting? My hands shake, panic growing, and I need to fix this, but I don’t know how.

Then Sofia shows up, fast, barging in with a can in her hand. My stomach twists, seeing it, and she holds it up, mad. “Your prints are on this, Mateo,” she says, voice sharp, and my heart stops, cold and heavy. A fake can? From the setup? “That’s bullshit,” I say, loud, but she steps closer, eyes narrow. “I found it in the shed. Explain it,” she demands, and I feel her doubt, stabbing me deep.

“I didn’t do it,” I say, quick, shaking my head, but she glares, holding the can tight. “Then why’s it got your prints?” she asks, and my chest hurts, trapped, scared she’s turning on me. Noah says, “Sofia, stop,” voice small, but she ignores him, staring at me. My hands sweat, fear choking me, and I feel alone, even with Noah here. “I’m not lying,” I mutter, but she doesn’t budge, doubt heavy between us.

Then my phone buzzes, loud in my pocket, snapping me out of it. I pull it out, hands shaky, and see a text from an unknown number. My breath catches, fast, and I open it. My heart slams, ice hitting hard. It’s an audio file, and the preview says, “Mateo: I’d kill for you.” My hands tremble, phone slipping, and I play it, hearing my voice, clear and loud, from the locker room. Noah grabs it, eyes wide, scared, and says, “They’ve got that?”

Then Coach yells from outside, loud and mad. “Mateo! You’re done!” My chest locks up, panic crashing in, and I look at Noah, face pale. Did he hear the audio? Did Lena send it? My legs shake, stuck, and I hear his boots stomping closer, door rattling. “Now, Mateo!” he shouts, and I can’t move, can’t breathe—just feel the audio burning in my hand, Coach about to bust in, and our secret ready to break.