Novels by Gem

CAMERON’S POVI didn’t realize healing could be inconvenient.Everyone talks about it like it’s this graceful, upward line. Like once you start getting better, things just… keep getting better.No one tells you about the days when you wake up okay and still feel like something is off. Like your body remembers things your mind has already forgiven.That was today.I noticed it when Brandon kissed my cheek before leaving for class and my first instinct was to hold on a second longer. Not because I was scared—but because my chest felt too full, like if I didn’t anchor myself, I might tip over.“You good?” he asked, pausing.“Yeah,” I said automatically.He didn’t look convinced, but he didn’t push either. He never did anymore. That was something we’d learned the hard way—how to give each other space without disappearing.Still, the moment the door shut behind him, the quiet rushed in.I tried to distract myself. Showered. Made coffee. Opened my laptop to work on my research notes.And th

CAMERON’S POVThe first time I actually broke down this semester, it happened in the campus library.Which felt rude, honestly. Libraries are supposed to be quiet and peaceful and not witness you realizing you might be doing too much all at once.I was sitting in the back corner, surrounded by books and printed research articles, staring at my laptop like it had personally betrayed me. My brain felt foggy. My chest felt tight. My hands wouldn’t stop shaking.And the worst part?I didn’t even know why.I closed my laptop slowly, like maybe if I moved gently enough, the spiral wouldn’t notice me.It noticed me anyway.I pressed my palms into my eyes, breathing in, out, trying to ground myself like my therapist taught me. Name five things you can see. Four you can feel. Three you can hear.But all I could hear was my own heartbeat, loud and fast, like it was panicking on my behalf.I texted Brandon without thinking.Me: Are you busy?The reply came almost immediately.Brandon: For you? N

BRANDON’S POVI used to think love was loud.Big gestures. Big promises. Big moments that felt like they belonged in a movie trailer.But being with Cameron taught me that love is quieter than that. Heavier. More intentional.It shows up when no one’s watching.Like now.I was sitting on the edge of his bed, scrolling aimlessly through my phone, while Cameron sat cross-legged on the floor, back against the mattress, reading something with that serious expression he always got when he was thinking too hard.“You’ve been staring at that page for five minutes,” I said.He didn’t look up. “I’m processing.”“You’re spiraling,” I corrected.He sighed and finally dropped the book onto his lap. “Okay, maybe a little.”I shifted closer, leaning down until my elbows rested on my knees. “Want to talk about it?”He hesitated. That tiny pause told me everything.“I got an email today,” he said slowly.My stomach tightened. “Good email or bad email?”“Complicated email,” he replied. “They want me t

CAMERON’S POVI didn’t realize how quiet my life had become until it suddenly wasn’t.It started with a knock on my door.Not a text. Not a call. An actual knock—three soft taps like whoever it was didn’t want to scare me away.I was halfway through highlighting notes for a class I wasn’t even paying attention to when I stood up and opened it.Brandon.Again.I stared at him like the universe had glitched.“You’re really bad at announcing your arrivals,” I said.He smiled, a little tired, a little nervous. “You didn’t seem to mind last time.”I stepped back without thinking. “Get in here.”He dropped his bag and wrapped his arms around me, and for a moment I let myself melt completely. No overthinking. No bracing. Just warmth and familiarity and the quiet relief of him being real and right here.“You okay?” he asked against my shoulder.“Yeah,” I said. Then corrected myself. “I think so.”That answer felt more honest lately.We didn’t rush anything. We never did anymore. We made tea.

BRANDON’S POVLeaving the second time was harder.I didn’t expect that. I thought the first goodbye had taken all the fear with it, burned it off like nerves before a big jump. But standing in Cameron’s apartment again, my bag by the door, the sun barely up, my chest felt tight in a way I couldn’t joke my way out of.Cameron noticed.He always did.“You’re doing the thing,” he said quietly.I sighed. “What thing?”“The staring at nothing but thinking about everything thing.”I smiled a little. “That’s a very specific diagnosis.”“I know you,” he said simply.We stood there for a moment, neither of us moving. The apartment felt too familiar now—like something I was borrowing instead of living in. His mug on the counter. My hoodie on the chair. Proof that we existed in the same space, even if not all the time.“I’ll be back before you know it,” I said.“I know,” he replied. “I’m just… letting it be hard without making it scary.”That sentence stopped confirm everything.“Therapy’s worki

CAMERON’S POVSummer didn’t arrive loudly.It crept in through open windows, warm air, lighter clothes, and the way campus slowly emptied out like a party winding down. Finals ended. People left. The world got quieter again—but this time, it felt earned.Brandon’s internship offer sat between us like an unopened letter.We hadn’t ignored it. We’d talked around it. Mentioned it in passing. Made jokes about long-distance FaceTime dates and shipping hoodies across state lines.But we hadn’t really talked about what it meant.Until one night, when the power went out.We were in the kitchen, halfway through making pasta, when everything went dark. No lights. No fan. Just the hum of the city outside and Brandon’s voice saying, “Well… that’s inconvenient.”I laughed softly. “Guess dinner’s canceled.”He lit his phone flashlight and leaned against the counter. “Or dramatically postponed.”We ended up sitting on the floor, backs against the cabinets, sharing a bag of chips and letting the quie

Epilogue Brandon’s POV(The Wedding)The sun had never looked this soft before. It wasn’t harsh or blinding — just golden, like it knew today wasn’t meant for anything loud. The breeze carried the scent of roses and vanilla, and somewhere behind me, Erica was quietly tearing up even though she’d sworn she wouldn’t.I stood there at the altar, palms damp, heart hammering like it was trying to break free from my chest.Cameron was late. Not by much, but just enough to make my nerves short-circuit.Hilda leaned in from her seat, grinning. “Relax, pretty boy. He’s coming. You know he wouldn’t miss this.”I tried to smile, but my voice came out shaky. “If he doesn’t show, I’m marrying you instead.”Erica snorted, resting her head on Hilda’s shoulder. “Sorry, babe. She’s taken.”And right then, I saw him.Cameron walked out from the garden path, wearing a light gray suit that fit him perfectly. His hair was a little messy, like he’d tried to fix it and gave up halfway, and the sunlight cau

Cameron’s POVIt had been two weeks since everything went down. Two weeks since Drake was finally locked up and life started to feel… breathable again.The world had quieted. Brandon was smiling more, laughing again, though I could still see the shadow behind his eyes sometimes — the kind you only get after surviving something too heavy for your heart.But tonight, I wanted to change that.I’d spent the entire day planning. Nothing fancy, nothing dramatic — just something us. Because the first time I’d proposed… everything around it got poisoned. Drake had twisted it, used it. This time, I wanted it to be ours again.No cameras. No manipulation. Just me and him.The sky was painted in warm orange streaks when I parked outside the old lakeside park. Brandon loved this place. It was where we’d had our first fight and our first real “I love you.” The water shimmered like melted gold, the air calm except for the rustle of the trees.He climbed out of the car, squinting at the sunset. “You

Brandon POVIt’s crazy how fast things can change.One week ago, our lives were chaos — flashing sirens, screaming, and Drake’s twisted smirk burned into my memory. Now? The house was quiet again. Peaceful, even. My parents were back to drinking morning coffee on the porch, pretending like their son hadn’t just been caught in a nightmare.And Cameron… he was still healing.Every morning he’d walk into class wearing that same navy hoodie, the one with the tiny tear on the sleeve. He’d pretend he was fine, answer questions like nothing happened, but I could tell. The way his fingers tapped against his notebook. The way he sometimes zoned out mid-conversation. The way he looked at the window like he was waiting for something bad to happen again.I got it.Because I was waiting too.But life didn’t stop. Exams were back. Assignments stacked up again. Everyone else had already moved on — except us.Friday came, and I found Cameron sitting at the bleachers behind the school gym. His hoodie

Cameron POVEverything was noise and motion.The alarm screamed through the house, echoing off the walls and into my skull. My pulse hammered in time with it. Brandon was still grappling with Drake, both of them sliding across the floor, the rain slamming harder against the windows like it was trying to drown out the chaos inside.“Bran—get back!” I shouted, but he didn’t. He never did when it came to protecting me.The blinking light under the table flashed faster. Red. Urgent.I dropped to my knees, ripping away the tablecloth, and froze. A crudely wired device sat on the floor, timer flickering in uneven numbers. My stomach twisted. “He set a bomb.”Drake laughed from across the room, voice hoarse but still mocking. “Told you I’d make you choose.”Brandon slammed him into the ground again, pinning his arm. “You’re done, Drake! You hear me?”Drake grinned through split lips. “Not yet.”My hands shook as I studied the wires. I didn’t know how to defuse bombs—I wasn’t some movie hero—

Brandon’s POVThe night felt heavier than usual. Every street we passed on the drive home looked blurred through the rain, like the whole city was trying to wash itself clean but couldn’t. Cameron hadn’t said a word the entire ride. His hands stayed clenched on the steering wheel, eyes fixed on the road like if he blinked, everything would fall apart.I wanted to say something—anything—to make it better. But what do you say after your stepbrother basically threatens your life, vanishes, and calls the cops on you? There wasn’t a guidebook for that.“Cam,” I said softly. “You’re shaking.”He didn’t answer. Just kept driving, headlights slicing through the mist. “I just want to get home,” he muttered finally. “Just home.”So I didn’t push. I let him have the silence.When we finally pulled up to my house, everything felt… off. The porch light was on, but the front door was wide open, creaking slightly in the wind. That was the first sign. The second was the stillness—the kind that didn’t

Brandon’s POV)The air was cold enough to bite. I could see my breath fog up the car window as Cameron killed the engine, his jaw locked tight like he was about to walk into a war. The streetlights buzzed above us, throwing pale light over puddles and cracked pavement. Somewhere in the distance, thunder grumbled like a warning.I didn’t say anything at first. My fingers were gripping the seatbelt too tight, like if I let go, I might lose it. The message Drake had sent earlier still burned in my head — ONE HOUR. OR I COME TO YOU. It didn’t sound like a bluff.“So this is it?” I finally said, my voice coming out rougher than I meant. “We’re just… going in?”Cameron didn’t look at me. His eyes were glued to the rearview mirror, scanning the shadows. “We’re not running anymore.”I swallowed. “Cam, this isn’t like before. You said he was dangerous—”“I know,” he snapped, too fast. Then softer, “I know. But he’s not going to stop. If we wait, he’ll find us anyway.”I studied him. His knuckl