Brandon’s POVI couldn’t sit still anymore.Cameron was finally asleep—deep, real sleep, not that feverish daze he’d been in for hours. His breathing was even, his eyelashes resting against his cheeks like he wasn’t carrying the weight of what just happened. Like the world hadn’t shattered under him.But I was cracking.I walked out of the apartment and got into my car. No plan, no words. Just rage. Pure, blinding, bone-deep rage.And I knew exactly where to find him.Drake always went to the rink around this time. Said it was “therapeutic,” whatever the hell that meant. I parked so fast I nearly clipped a trash can and sprinted through the building, barely hearing the people yelling my name or telling me to slow down.I saw him.I actually saw him.Skating alone like nothing happened. Like the world wasn’t shattered and Cameron wasn’t in my bed right now flinching in his sleep.Drake.The second my eyes landed on his smug little face, something inside me snapped.I dropped my bag and
Cameron POVI could tell from the second I woke up that something was different. My body still ached like I’d been hit by a train, but my shirt—no, this wasn’t the same one. This one was soft, dry, and didn’t smell like sweat and shame.Brandon had changed me.I stared at the ceiling, hoping maybe this was some weird fever dream. That maybe I’d wake up again and everything would rewind. But no. The light was real. The quiet in the room was real. The fact that I didn’t feel alone anymore—also real.I turned my head slowly.Brandon was sitting in my desk chair, legs pulled up like he’d been there forever. His eyes were fixed on me instantly. Like he hadn’t taken them off me once.“Hey,” he said quietly, voice gentle like I was a ghost or something. “You’re awake.”I tried to sit up, but even that felt like too much. My muscles were sore, like my body knew what had happened even if I didn’t want to think about it.“You… changed my clothes,” I said, my voice scratchy and low.He nodded, n
Cameron’s POV My head felt like it had been stuffed with cotton and then microwaved.Everything was hazy and weird. My skin felt sticky, like I’d been sweating for hours. I blinked slowly, squinting at the ceiling, trying to remember where the hell I was — and then I saw him.Brandon.Sitting at the head of the bed. Legs crossed. One hand holding a wet towel. The other resting near my shoulder like he’d just pulled it away.He looked tired. Like… bone-deep tired. His eyes were red, and his hair was messy like he’d run his hands through it a thousand times.“Hey,” he said softly the second he noticed my eyes open. His voice cracked just a little. “You’re awake.”I blinked again, throat dry as hell. I opened my mouth to speak, but no sound came out. Just a breath. A croaky, broken breath.Brandon leaned forward, like he’d been waiting on standby for hours. “Don’t talk yet,” he said quickly, grabbing the glass on the nightstand and handing it to me with shaking hands. “Here. Sip first.
Brandon’s POVI knew something was wrong when Cameron didn’t show up for lunch. At first, I thought maybe he forgot. Or got caught up in something. That’s normal, right? We’re both always half-drowning in assignments, and Cam’s kind of the king of last-minute chaos. So I waited. Ordered fries. Scrolled through Twitter. Checked my phone like fifty times. Texted. Called.But when an hour passed and still nothing?Yeah. That wasn’t Cam. Not my Cam.I must’ve read our texts a hundred times on the way to his apartment. My chest felt tight, and I kept trying to tell myself I was overthinking. He’d probably just passed out after pulling an all-nighter again. He did that. He got cranky and weird and shut off his phone, and then popped up the next day with some grumpy apology and hair that looked like a bird’s nest.But I don’t know. This time… it felt different.His building was quiet when I got there. Like the kind of quiet that makes your skin crawl. I didn’t even bother buzzing — I still h
Cameron’s POVI woke up feeling like trash.Not the regular “I stayed up too late” kind of trash. I mean the “my body hurts in places I didn’t even know existed” kind of trash. My head was pounding, my limbs were sore, and my throat felt like I’d swallowed a cactus. The worst part? The second I opened my eyes, I realized exactly where I was.Drake’s bed.And worse — Drake was right next to me, still asleep like nothing had happened.The memory slammed into me like a brick wall: the wine, the heat, him leaning in, his mouth, and me—stupid me—saying Brandon’s name when he kissed me. That part I remembered clear as day. Everything else was foggy and wrong and made my stomach turn.I wanted to punch him.I wanted to scream at him and ask what the hell he’d put in that wine.But my body hurt too much to even sit up properly, and the more I stayed in that room, the more I felt like I was suffocating.So I got up.I didn’t even care that my legs were shaky or that every step felt like I’d ru
Cameron’s POVThe world tilted.I blinked hard, trying to focus on the blurry chandelier above my head. My fingers gripped the edge of the counter, but even that felt like it was slipping away. The room spun, warm and hazy around the edges, like I’d been wrapped in a too-tight blanket I couldn’t shake off.“Drake,” I mumbled. “What… what did you put in the wine?”He was too close.He didn’t answer right away. Just stared at me, that same conflicted look he always wore around me—like he didn’t know whether to worship me or destroy me.“I had to,” he said finally, voice low and shaky. “You wouldn’t have listened otherwise.”My heart thudded against my ribs like it was trying to break free. My limbs were heavy, my breath uneven.“You’re insane,” I said. Or tried to. It came out more like a slur. “This is our house. Are you seriously—are you seriously doing this here?”Drake’s jaw clenched. “This is the only way I could make you see. I thought you hated guys, Cam. I thought I didn’t even