Semua Bab PUCK ME, STEPBROTHER: Bab 41 - Bab 50

SpiralingJulian's POVI'm spiraling and I know it, but I can't make it stop.I keep replaying the kiss over and over. The way I grabbed his shirt. How his mouth felt against mine. The fact that he kissed me back without hesitation.Every time the memory surfaces, I swear under my breath and punch whatever's closest. The wall takes most of my anger tonight."Fuck," I mutter, slamming my fist into the drywall. Pain shoots up my arm but does nothing to clear my head.My knuckles are bruised and scraped now, raw and angry. I stare at them in the dim light of my dorm room.I tell myself it was nothing but anger. Just two guys fighting, whose wires got crossed, but my chest tightens at the obvious lie.But panic creeps in anyway, wrapping around me. I start questioning everything I thought I knew about myself, pulling at threads I don't want to unravel.Maybe I'm just horny and that's what's messing with my head. I haven't hooked up with anyone in weeks, too stressed about everything falli

Wrong PlaceJulian's POV"Let's hit a club," I say to Dylan after practice. He's one of my closest friends on the team, someone I can actually trust not to spread my business around."Yeah, sure." He's already pulling out his phone, thumbs flying across the screen. "Let me text Sarah.""Your girlfriend? Why does she need to come?""She'll want to." He grins without looking up. "Plus she knows all the good spots in the city. Better than going somewhere random."I shrug, tossing my gym bag in my car. My only goal tonight is to find a girl to hook up with, get Bryson out of my head for a few hours. Maybe if I can just reset, get back to normal, this whole mess will feel less overwhelming. Having Sarah along shouldn't complicate that plan.We meet up with her an hour later outside some place downtown I've never heard of. She's bouncing on her heels with excitement, her blonde hair catching the streetlights."I know the perfect place," she says, already leading the way down the block. "Gre

TrappedJulian's POVAs usual, Bryson and I head home for the weekend. I keep my face stone cold during the entire drive, jaw clenched and eyes fixed on the road. I need to make sure Bryson doesn't try to start a conversation about what happened at the club.Bryson isn't as brave as he was that night, alcohol giving him confidence he clearly doesn't have sober. He keeps silent in the passenger seat, staring out the window.But the memory of that night runs through my head on repeat anyway. How bold Bryson looked on that dance floor. How different from his usual careful, guarded self. How alluring he was with his hands on my waist, grinding against me like he had every right to.I grip the steering wheel tighter, trying to focus on driving instead of remembering.The question Bryson asked keeps echoing in my mind. Are you gay too? The words haunt me because I don't have an answer that makes sense.Until Bryson, I'd never felt attraction to any man. Never looked at another guy and wante

Domestic RoutineBryson's POVI wake up to the smell of food drifting under my door and sit up confused. For a second, I think I'm dreaming, but my stomach growls, and the scent is too real.I step out of my room still half asleep, rubbing my eyes. What greets me makes me freeze completely in the doorway.Julian stands in the kitchen, shirt loose and unbuttoned at the collar, hair messy like he just woke up. He's flipping pancakes with one hand while stirring eggs with the other, moving around the space like he does this every day.I blink, thinking I must still be dreaming. This can't be real.Julian looks up and frowns when he sees me standing there. "Stop staring. You're being freaky.""You're cooking," I say stupidly, my brain still processing."Nope, I'm fishing." He says with sarcasm as he flips another pancake onto a plate.That's when I notice the two plates already set out on the counter, both with forks beside them. My chest does something weird.I hide a small smile. "Thank

FracturesBryson's POVI've been replaying that image in my head for days. Julian is on his bed, hand wrapped around his dick, eyes closed, and face flushed. The memory hits me at random moments - during class, at work, in the shower - and every time it brings the same rush of heat and confusion.Every time I convince myself I've forgotten it, the image slips back into my mind without warning. Julian's expression, caught between pleasure and something else. The way he looked at me when he realized I was standing there, mortified but still hard.What once felt like fragile peace between us now feels tense. Our conversations are clipped, reduced to necessary exchanges. Our movements around each other are overly cautious, like we're constantly aware of personal space and trying not to cross invisible lines."Morning," I say when we pass in the kitchen."Morning," he replies, not meeting my eyes.It's clear we both are pretending not to remember what happened, yet both clearly do. Impossi