Things he won't say.

Aiden’s POV

The next morning, I woke up with a headache and a tight feeling in my chest.

I kept my eyes closed for a few seconds, hoping everything from last night was just a bad dream. It wasn’t. I could hear his soft mumbles as he slept. 

I sat up slowly and avoided looking at his side of the room. I grabbed my towel and clothes and went straight into the bathroom.

 I locked the door behind me like I was scared he might follow me in just by accident.

The water was cold at first, then warm. I let it run over my head, hoping it would wash away the thoughts, the memories, the fear. It didn’t. His face kept flashing in my head. His voice. And that stupid calm smile made my blood boil. 

When I came out, I looked around to make sure he was still sleeping and thankfully he was. I rushed to my dresser and got ready to leave the room. 

The weekends are usually a day Peter and I had time to talk about our problems and sometimes he throws a little gossip into it. I never really had a comment on most of his news but it kept me informed on the people I should avoid — not like I talked to anyone besides him. 

And now that Peter was gone and I had no intention of continuing the tradition with Ryder, I decided to use it to study.  There is no such thing as too much knowledge 

I started arranging my things in my bag. Books, laptop, notes. Anything to keep my hands busy and my mind distracted.

“Morning,” Ryder’s voice said.

I flinched, trying my best not to turn my head to him but my head betrayed me. I turned — it was just too second glance but I felt I had committed a huge sin. 

“Morning,” I replied, awkwardly. 

There was a short silence.

He yawned loudly,  then stood up and walked toward the bathroom. “Guess I’ll shower.”

“Yeah,” I muttered.

He stopped at the bathroom door and slowly turned to me. “You got a spare toothbrush, I think I forgot to bring one alone.”

“Cabinet.”

“Thanks,” he said and the door slammed shut. 

I grabbed my bag and left immediately, like the room was on fire and I needed to escape.

I walked fast, heading toward the library. I had just started to relax when it hit me. 

I forgot my textbook. 

I stopped walking.

“Damn it,” I whispered.

I stood there for a few seconds, arguing with myself. I didn’t want to go back. I really didn’t. But I needed that book.

So I turned around.

When I opened the door to the room again, the first thing I saw was Ryder.

Fresh from the shower.

His hair was wet, drops of water sliding down his neck. He was wearing only sweatpants, hanging low on his hips. His chest was bare. His skin still shiny from the water. His muscles clear and solid, like an unrealistic but tempting artwork.  And that V line—sharp and tempting—leading straight down into his waistband.

I froze.

My eyes betrayed me. I couldn’t look away.

He rubbed his hair with a towel, then noticed me staring.

“Forget something?” he asked.

I swallowed hard and forced myself to move. “My book.”

I walked past him quickly, grabbed it from my desk.

“How long do you think you can ignore me?” he asked calmly, “We should talk about that night, don't you think?”

I turned to leave.

He walked to the door before I could reach it. He slammed it shut and pushed me back against it — hard.

My heart jumped.

He leaned closer, his face inches from mine. “I’m not a pushover,” he said. “Don’t treat me like one.”

I frowned and pushed him away with both hands. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

I moved past him and went into the living area.

He followed. “I’ve met a lot of men,” he said, leaning against the wall. “Men who don’t even get a chance to kiss me, yet they want to stay. They want more. But you…’’His words trailed off as his gaze slowly dragged over me, like he was dissecting my soul

“I’m not those men,” I frowned. 

He raised a brow.

“What happened that night,” I continued, my voice tight, “was a mistake. It should never have happened.”

“Was the conversation about being gay a mistake too?”

I inhaled deeply. My chest felt heavy.

“I was drunk,” I said. “I didn’t know what I was saying. It wasn’t even me. It was a friend.”

He nodded slowly, like he was taking mental notes. “Okay,” he said. “Then I have something for you.”

He walked into the room and came back holding something. It was my student ID card.

He tossed it to me. “Your friend forgot it,” he said.

I caught it and stared at it for a second. Then looked at him with guilt.  “Listen,” I said quietly. “That night was a mistake. I like women. I want us to put everything back where it was. Let’s pretend we don’t know each other. Just until my father figures this out.”

“Figures out that you are gay?” He snorted. 

I swallowed hard, my lips pressing into a thin line. He was this close to becoming my punching dummy. 

“My father must not know about anything. You know who my father is. He will kill me… us if he finds out. Please let's just let it go. It was just a drunken mistake.”

I turned to go.

“This is so funny,” he said.

I stopped.

“I never expected a Miller to be gay,” he continued. “And I never expected a Miller to be a pussy too.”

I turned back sharply. “Are you threatening me?”

He laughed, shaking his head. “No.” He stepped closer, his voice calm but sharp. “You might think you’re hiding it so well to please your father.  But one day, you will slip. And I hope for your sake, it’s not too late.” He leaned closer. “Being gay doesn't make you less human,” he added and walked back into the room.