บททั้งหมดของ PUCK ME, STEPBROTHER: บทที่ 51 - บทที่ 60

Moving OnBryson's POVThe next morning, I wake up to the sound of Julian moving around in the kitchen. For a moment, I consider staying in my room and avoiding him completely. But that would make things even more obvious than they already are.I force myself out of bed and head to the bathroom first. When I finally emerge, Julian's sitting at the counter with coffee and his laptop."Morning," he says, not looking up."Morning." I grab a mug from the cabinet.He clears his throat. "About last night…"Don't." I cut him off before he can even finish the sentence."We should talk about it.""There's nothing to talk about." I pour coffee, keeping my back to him."Bryson…”"It was just post-game adrenaline. Let's leave it at that." The lie tastes bitter but I force it out anyway.Julian's quiet for a moment. I can feel him staring at my back. "If that's what you want to believe.""It's what happened." I turn around and meet his eyes. "So let's just forget about it and move on."I already k

Tug of war.Julian's POVI watch from my spot in the corner as Bryson leads that girl onto the dance floor, and something hot and ugly twists in my chest. The flashing lights catch on Bryson's grin, that easy confident smile he wears when he's comfortable.He moves with her like it's effortless, his hands finding her waist, pulling her close. The casual confidence that seems to draw everyone in radiates off him, and I hate that I can't stop watching."Damn, Miller moves fast," Tyler says beside me, nudging my shoulder with his elbow. "You better be careful, man, or your girl's gonna get stolen."The words hit wrong, making my jaw clench. My girl. Ashley belongs to me just because she shows up at games wearing my number. I've never even given her any real attention beyond polite acknowledgment.I force a smirk, trying to look amused instead of pissed off. "She's not my girl.""Could've fooled me. She's been at every game for weeks." Tyler laughs, taking a sip of his drink. "But hey, if

NewsJulian's POVI spend most of the following day fighting to get Bryson out of my head. Every time I try to focus on my textbook, my mind drifts back to the party. To that bedroom. To the way he looked lying beside me on that bed, the sounds he made, and the expression on his face when he finished."Fuck," I mutter, pressing the heels of my palms against my eyes.I have a test tomorrow. Economics, the class I'm already failing. I need to focus on supply curves, not the curves of Bryson's muscles.I force myself to read the same paragraph three times before it finally starts making sense. The formulas blur together on the page, numbers and letters refusing to stay in order. My phone sits face-down on my desk, deliberately out of reach so I won't be tempted to check it.Hours pass this way. Reading, taking notes, forcing my brain to absorb information instead of spiraling. By the time evening rolls around, my eyes burn from staring at textbook pages and my hand cramps from writing pr

ExpectationsJulian's POVI follow my father down the hallway toward his office, my mind still tangled between Bryson and his mother's unexpected news. The weight of Clara's pregnancy announcement sits heavily in my chest, mixing with confusion about what just happened in Bryson's room.The office door closes behind us with a soft click, sealing us in the space that always makes me feel small. Everything about this room screams success and expectation.The air feels heavy, lined with the quiet authority my father always carries. It's the same feeling I get before he criticizes my grades or lectures me about disappointing him.Richard gestures toward one of the chairs across from his desk. "Sit."I sit, my back straight, hands resting on my thighs. Waiting.He settles into his own chair, studying me with that calculating expression he wears during business deals. Like he's trying to figure out the best angle to approach something."So… how are your studies going?" he asks, his tone cal

ClaimingJulian's POVI wake early, restless and unable to fall back asleep after the strange tension of last night. My body feels wired, my mind refusing to quiet down, no matter how many times I close my eyes and try to force it.Eventually, I give up and just lie there, staring at the ceiling while morning light creeps through the blinds. I keep replaying the evening. The easy laughter in the kitchen, the near-touches that made my skin tingle, and the way Bryson looked at me before heading to bed with something soft in his expression.Something has shifted between us, changed in ways I can't quite define. And I don't know what to do with it.The uncertainty makes my chest tight with anxiety and something else I refuse to name.Finally, I drag myself out of bed and get ready for the day. When I emerge from my room, I find Bryson already awake, dressed in practice clothes, and packing his hockey gear into his bag."Morning," I say, leaning against the doorframe."Morning." His tone i