LOGINI Ruined My Best Friend’s Little BrotherChapter 3Marcus’s apartment always smelled like garlic and the same laundry detergent he’d used since college.Tonight it also smelled like a lie I could taste.Theo sat across from me at the small round table. He’d changed into a clean shirt that still wasn’t his. Mine. Navy. A little tight in the chest if you knew what you were looking at. I knew. I had my mouth on that chest eight hours ago.Marcus talked. He always talked when he cooked. Chicago. The client. The steak. He moved between the stove and the table with a beer in one hand and a spatula in the other like nothing in the room was on fire.Theo barely ate.He kept shifting in his chair. Small movements. Careful ones. Every time he did it I felt it in my dick. I knew why he was sitting like that. I had put that ache in him. Twice this morning. Once last night over my own table.“You’re quiet,” Marcus said, pointing the spatula at him. “You still wrecked about the girl?”Theo’s fork p
Chapter 2I woke up with Theo’s ass pressed against my cock and his hair in my mouth.Morning light cut across the bed in a hard white line. My sheets were wrecked. There was a dried smear on his thigh that I put there at 4 a.m. when I took him the third time, slower, almost lazy, just to feel him twitch and go quiet. He had fallen asleep with my arm locked around his waist like I was afraid he would vanish.He hadn’t vanished.He was still here. Warm. Soft. Mine in a way that was going to blow up my entire life.My phone buzzed on the nightstand.I knew the ringtone before I looked.Marcus.Theo stirred when I reached over him. His hole was still sloppy from last night. When he shifted, I felt it against me and my cock thickened like it had no sense of timing.I answered on the third buzz.“You’re up early,” Marcus said. Cheerful. Airport-loud. “Flight got moved. I’m landing at 2:10 instead of Sunday. You still good to grab me or should I just Uber?”Theo’s eyes opened.He heard ever
I Ruined My Best Friend’s Little BrotherChapter 1The knock came at 1:47 a.m.I knew it was him before I opened the door. Only one person in this city still treated my apartment like it had a spare key that didn’t exist.Theo stood there soaked to the bone, black T-shirt plastered to his chest, dark hair dripping into his eyes. Rain water ran off his jaw and onto the hallway carpet. He looked twenty-two and furious and beautiful in the exact way he wasn’t supposed to look at me.“Marcus isn’t answering,” he said. No hello. “Can I come in or what?”I stepped aside.He walked past me smelling like rain and cheap vodka and something sweeter underneath that I had no business noticing. I shut the door. The lock clicked louder than it needed to.“He’s in Chicago until Sunday,” I said. “You know that.”“I know.” Theo dragged a hand through his wet hair and left it standing up in messy spikes. “I just… I didn’t want to go home. My roommate’s got some girl over and I—” He stopped. Looked at m
Don’t Touch MeChapter 3The weekend stretched the tension until it felt like a live wire under the floorboards.Noah doubled down on avoidance. He left before sunrise, came back after midnight, and moved through the apartment like any prolonged eye contact might detonate something. I let him have the distance. For two days I barely spoke. I cooked when he was gone. I worked late at the café down the street. I brought no one home.By Sunday night the silence had become its own kind of pressure.I was on the couch with a book I wasn’t reading when the front door finally opened. Noah stepped in looking wrecked—damp from the rain, backpack sliding off one shoulder, dark circles under his eyes. He froze when he saw me. For a second I thought he might turn around and leave again.Instead he shut the door and muttered, “You’re still up.”“Waiting.”“For what?”I closed the book and set it aside. “You.”He dropped the backpack by the wall and dragged a hand through his wet hair. Water drippe
Don’t Touch MeChapter 2Three days later he was still pretending I didn’t exist.Noah moved through the apartment like a ghost with excellent posture. Up early. Headphones in. Out the door before I finished my coffee. Back late. Straight to his room. Door closed. No conversation. No lingering. If I was in the kitchen, he waited until I left. If I was on the couch, he took the long way around.It only made me harder.I started staying in more. Not enough to look obvious. Just enough to be in the way. I’d cook when I knew he was due home. Leave the bathroom door cracked while I showered so the steam and the sound of water would reach him. Sit on the couch in nothing but low-slung sweatpants with a book I wasn’t reading, legs spread, watching him try not to look when he crossed the living room.He always looked.Quick. Guilty. Like he hated himself for it.Thursday night the tension finally cracked.I came home late from the gym, still in a damp black tank and joggers, gym bag over one
Don’t Touch MeChapter 1I knew he hated me the second he walked through the door.Noah Reid stood in the doorway of the apartment with a single duffel bag and an expression like someone had just told him he’d be sharing oxygen with a convicted felon. Twenty-two. Lean. Dark hair that always looked like he’d been running his hands through it in frustration. Mouth set in a hard line. And those eyes—sharp, wary, already deciding I was the problem.“You’re Dominic,” he said. Not a question.“I am.” I leaned against the kitchen counter, arms crossed, watching him the way I watched anything I already wanted. “You’re late.”“Traffic.”“Right.”The building manager had warned me the new subletter was “quiet and private.” What he hadn’t mentioned was that Noah Reid looked at me like I was something he needed to scrape off his shoe. The previous roommate had bailed three weeks into the lease, and the agency had stuck me with the first warm body that could make rent. That warm body was currently
Chapter 1: Caught in the ActThe bass from Jordan’s speakers thumped through the walls as I slipped out of his room, heart hammering like a damn traitor. The party downstairs was still raging—cheap beer, shitty EDM, and too many people crammed into his parents’ living room. But I wasn’t going back
Chapter 4: Shadows and Surrender The crack outside the cabin window jolted me awake before dawn, my body still sore and marked from Damien’s relentless claiming the night before. I lay tangled in the heavy blankets, his arm draped possessively over my waist, his breath warm against my neck. For a
Chapter 3: Cabin Fever The family cabin loomed ahead like a trap wrapped in pine trees and fresh snow. Mom and Dad had insisted on the weekend getaway to bond us all together, but they bailed at the last minute with some excuse about a work emergency back in the city. Convenient. Or maybe suspicio
Chapter 1: Caught in the Dark I never thought I would see my stepbrother like this. The house was supposed to be empty. Mom and Dad had left for their anniversary weekend, and I had planned to spend the night buried in my books, finally getting some peace from Damien’s constant noise. Hockey prac







