Chapter 6

Why?

​The single word echoed through Caeden’s thoughts like a rhythmic hammer against glass. No matter how fiercely he tried to force the text into his brain, the open pages before him remained nothing more than meaningless black squiggles against heavy paper. They sat tucked away in the shadows of the university library, hidden behind towering shelves of antique volumes where the air smelled of dry paper and forgotten dust. Alem had intentionally chosen the most isolated corner, far removed from the footsteps of other students, turning the dark wood table into a makeshift classroom for his stepbrother. Yet every time Alem’s voice drifted across the space, soft and deliberate, Caeden found his gaze entirely trapped. He was not processing a single explanation. Instead, he was fixated on the slow, precise movement of Alem’s lips, watching the way they shaped each syllable, tracing the sharp, fine line of his jaw.

​Only twenty four hours ago, hatred had burned bright and uncomplicated in Caeden’s chest. He had hated everything about the sudden intrusion of his stepbrother into his home and his life. Yet sitting here now, directly across from him, a strange heaviness pulled at his attention. He could not tear his eyes away. A quiet panic stirred beneath his ribs, whispering denial into the back of his mind. He was not attracted to men. He could not possibly be. The words became a desperate mantra, repeated endlessly beneath his breath to drown out the sudden warmth rising under his skin.

​"Caeden, are you even listening to me?" Alem’s voice cut through the fog, stern and unyielding. He leaned forward slightly, resting his palms flat on the dark wood. "You know how important this tutoring role is to me. I need you to take this seriously."

​Caeden tilted his chin upward, forcing a cold sneer onto his face to mask the tremble in his chest. "Why would I ever do that? I want you out of my life, Alem. I want you completely out of my family. So no matter what ridiculous games you play, I will never give you what you want."

​He drew a long, slow breath through his nose, trying to steady his surging pulse. Pushing Alem away was the only defense he possessed. If cruel words and stubborn hostility could clear the suffocating confusion clouding his mind, he would gladly burn every bridge between them.

​Hoping to break the intense dynamic between them, Caeden glanced past Alem’s shoulder toward the adjacent row of study tables. Sitting nearby were two girls who had been stealing glances at his stepbrother since the moment they sat down, their hushed giggles vibrating through the quiet aisle.

​"Fine then," Alem murmured, closing the heavy textbook with a dull thud that echoed softly against the high ceiling. "I suppose that concludes our first session for today. We can continue this back at the mansion."

​Caeden scowled, his brows knitting together as he watched Alem stand up. With a careless flick of his hand, Alem brushed back his semi-curly blonde hair, revealing the smooth, unbroken line of his pale forehead. Caeden’s throat suddenly felt dry. He swallowed hard, feeling an unbidden heat rush up his neck and color his cheeks. Panicked by his own body's reaction, he violently jerked his gaze away, staring fixedly at the edge of the table.

​"Oh my fucking god," a girl with a tight ponytail muffled a squeal into her hand, her eyes wide as she watched Alem pack his leather bag.

​"He is so gorgeous," her friend whispered back, leaning across her desk. "Did you see that?"

​Caeden snapped around, his frustration boiling over. "Quiet," he barked, his voice sharp enough to slice through the stillness of the room. "Do you even realize where you are? This is a library, not a hallway. Keep your noise to yourselves."

​Alem turned toward the girls, a smooth, effortless smile breaking across his features. "Hi, girls," he offered casually, his tone dropping into a warm baritone that made both students freeze, holding their breath in collective shock. "See you around Hilton University."

​The two girls collapsed back into their chairs as if breathless, clutching their chests in dramatic silence. It was a completely harmless gesture on Alem’s part, yet a sharp, hot blade of irritation twisted deep in Caeden’s gut. He told himself it was simply pride. He was threatened by Alem’s effortless charm, terrified that this newcomer would steal his standing and ruin his reputation as the uncontested center of attention at Hilton University. Yet a darker, less comfortable thought whispered in the back of his mind, suggesting his anger was not about lost status at all, but about the way those girls had looked at his stepbrother.

​Without another word, Alem shouldered his strap and walked out into the corridor. Caeden remained seated, forcing his eyes down onto the dense paragraphs of the open textbook. He stared until the ink blurred, but the concepts remained completely foreign, blocked out by the image of blonde hair and a careless smile.

​By the time the afternoon classes ended, marking the conclusion of Alem’s very first day at Hilton University, Caeden’s phone vibrated with a brief text message. Alem had written to say he was taking a car home early to handle some urgent matters. Unwilling to ask for help, Caeden waited patiently in the courtyard until his father arrived to take him back.

​When he finally stepped through the grand front doors of the mansion, the house was eerily silent. Caeden climbed the broad staircase, his footsteps heavy against the carpet, and walked down the long hallway toward the bedroom they were forced to share. He pushed the heavy wooden door open and stopped dead in his tracks.

​Alem was sprawling across the center of the broad mattress. He was still wearing his tailored dark trousers, but his torso was bare, his uniform shirt discarded carelessly on a nearby chair. A soft throw pillow covered his face, blocking out the lingering evening light, but it left his neck completely exposed. Caeden’s gaze hovered over the smooth slope of Alem’s throat, tracing the prominent, defined line of his Adam’s apple as it moved with every slow breath.

​A sudden wave of intense heat washed over Caeden, settling deep in his stomach as he stood rooted to the doorway, taking in the sight of his half naked stepbrother. Caeden knew his own body was larger, more muscular, crafted through years of disciplined athletic training. Yet there was something sleek and fluid about the quiet symmetry of Alem’s frame that made Caeden’s heart hammer violently against his ribs.

​His throat felt like sandpaper. He cleared it silently, forcing himself to move forward. He set his heavy leather bag down by the side of the desk and began stripping away his school uniform, leaving himself in only a thin white sleeveless undershirt and light cotton boxer shorts.

​Slowly, carefully, as if moving through deep water, Caeden approached the edge of the bed. He sat down on the mattress, feeling the springs shift beneath his weight. His right hand moved as if guided by an invisible, terrifying thread, his long fingers levitating mere inches above the warm skin of Alem’s chest. His hand hovered there, trembling slightly, caught in a desperate war between rising desire and sheer panic.

​"Damn it, Caeden," he whispered beneath his breath, the words barely audible over the sound of his own heavy breathing.

​Beads of cold sweat broke out along his hairline as he fought the rising heat in his veins. The thought of Alem discovering this moment filled him with absolute terror. He could not allow his stepbrother to know the effect he was having on him, to realize the physical reaction taking hold of his body. He kept repeating his internal shield, insisting to himself that he was straight, that he harbored no such feelings for men. Yet his eyes refused to obey, drawn helpless toward the subtle definition of Alem’s abdomen.

​Suddenly, Alem shifted beneath the covers, tossing the pillow away from his face. Caeden yanked his hand back as if burned, his heart leaping straight into his throat.

​"Move over," Caeden blurted out, his voice cracking slightly with a nervous tension he could not conceal. "You act like you own this entire bed. Move to your own side."

​"You are finally back?" Alem murmured, his voice thick with sleep as he blinked against the faint ambient light. "Did you get my text message?"

​"Isn't it obvious?" Caeden snapped, using sharp sarcasm as a shield to hide his panic. "I am right in front of you, Alem. Are you blind? I said, move over, I need to rest too."

​Alem grunted softly and shifted toward the far edge of the mattress. That single, simple movement sent a jolt of electricity straight through Caeden’s body. As Alem rolled, the muscles across his stomach flexed clearly in the dim room, and the thin fabric of his trousers pulled tight against his groin, revealing the undeniable stirrings of a semi erection beneath the cloth.

​Caeden hurriedly threw himself onto the mattress, turning his back completely to his stepbrother. He stared intently at the blank wall, taking long, ragged breaths in an attempt to slow the frantic rhythm of his heart.

​Then, a sudden wave of radiant heat pressed against the small of his back.

​Before Caeden could process the movement, Alem’s right arm reached over his side. Caeden had his arms tightly crossed over his chest, but Alem slid his forearm smoothly beneath Caeden’s lower abdomen, pulling his hand upward until his palm rested firmly over Caeden’s chest, drawing their bodies close together until there was no space left between them.

​"A... Alem?"

​The name left Caeden’s lips as a choked whisper. Down below, beneath the thin cotton of his shorts, his body betrayed his frantic thoughts, reacting instantly and fiercely to the solid pressure of Alem’s body pressed behind him.

​God damn it.

​The inner protest shrieked through his mind, drowning in the rush of blood in his ears. He gripped his own arms tighter, staring wild eyed at the dark wall, repeating the lie over and over against the rising tide of his own body.

​I cannot be gay. I am not gay.