My Stepbrother, My Enemy {BL}-Chapter 100: Panic Mode

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Ethan and I wandered into one of the quieter boutiques, hands intertwining as we strolled between the racks. This place felt way more peaceful than the others, soft lighting, warm beige walls, and gentle music playing like a soothing lullaby, especially after the whirlwind Gigi had put us through.

I let my fingers glide over sequined hems and silky fabrics while Ethan casually browsed through a row of suits, still holding my hand and tracing lazy circles over my knuckles with his thumb.

"So," he said, glancing down at me with that easy smile of his, "how many winter balls have you actually been to? You don’t seem like the type who’d go every year."

I chuckled softly, shaking my head. "Just once. And that was ages ago."

He stopped, looking genuinely surprised. "Only once? Why’s that?"

I shrugged lightly, glancing at the rows of dresses, hoping one of them would somehow provide the answer I needed. "I never really felt like I fit in. Everyone else seemed so polished and confident, like they were born knowing how to glide across the dance floor without tripping or blending into the background. I just felt like I was... I don’t know. Trying not to get lost in the crowd." I hesitated, recalling that one night spent nursing a cup of punch while everyone else danced around me. "So, I never went back."

Ethan’s gaze softened, and he squeezed my hand gently. "And this year? Why are you going now?"

I took a slow breath, letting it out steadily. "Before the semester started, I promised myself I’d make this year different. Not perfect, just a bit better. I wanted to step out of my comfort zone, take some risks. Actually be present instead of fading into the background." I looked up at him and smiled a little. "And so far... it’s going pretty well. I feel more confident than ever, and honestly, I’m proud of that."

Ethan turned fully towards me, leaning his shoulder against the end of a clothing rack. "I’ll do my part to help," he said, his voice low and sincere, warming my chest.

"You already are," I replied quietly, meeting his eyes. "A lot more than you realize."

He raised an eyebrow. "Oh? And how exactly am I doing that?" 𝒻𝓇𝑒𝘦𝘸𝑒𝒷𝓃ℴ𝑣𝘦𝑙.𝒸ℴ𝘮

A gentle warmth crept into my cheeks, but I didn’t look away. "By being my boyfriend," I admitted, letting the words settle between us. "By making me feel like I don’t have to hide anymore."

A slow smile spread across his face, warm instead of mischievous. He leaned in closer, brushing a strand of hair behind my ear so gently that it took my breath away. "Well," he murmured, "if being your boyfriend gives you confidence, then I guess I’ll just have to keep nailing this role."

I let out a quiet laugh, my heart fluttering in that familiar yet new way.

He didn’t give me a chance to overthink it. Ethan slipped a hand to my waist, pulling me a bit closer as he leaned down, his lips meeting mine in a warm, steady kiss, nothing rushed or flashy, just soft enough to feel like a promise. I kissed him back, the rest of the mall fading away, creating a peaceful moment that made everything else feel smaller.

When he finally pulled back, he rested his forehead gently against mine. "Alright," he whispered, a playful glint in his eyes, "let’s find you an outfit that matches this new confident Noah."

I smiled, my fingers grazing his jawline before I stepped back, feeling lighter than I had in months. "Deal. But only if we find you something that isn’t black either."

He chuckled softly. "Now you sound like Gigi."

"God forbid," I teased, nudging him playfully as we turned toward the racks.

Hand in hand again, we drifted deeper into the boutique, surrounded by the soft rustle of fabric and the distant chatter of the mall, while the evening unfolded with the promise of something sweeter than just a school dance.

I was still catching my breath when I suddenly spotted Vanessa, Shannon, and Jace strolling past the store, laughing and whispering to each other like they owned the place.

"Uh-oh," I whispered sharply, panic washing over me faster than I could think. Without thinking, I grabbed Ethan’s hand—hard and practically yanked him toward the nearest changing stall.

"Noah! What—what are you—?" Ethan stammered, wide-eyed and confused as I shoved him inside with me.

I pulled the curtain shut as quietly as I could, trying not to slam it into him. "Shh! Just... just hide!" I hissed, pressing myself against the wall, hoping they wouldn’t notice.

Ethan blinked at me, still baffled. "Hide? Noah... are you scared of them?"

I waved a hand vaguely, forcing a laugh even though my heart was racing. "No! Not scared. I just... don’t want to deal with their nonsense right now, okay?"

He raised an eyebrow, but a grin crept onto his face. "Ah, so it’s panic-mode, not fear. Got it."

I wanted to playfully smack him for teasing me, but then I realized just how close we were in the cramped stall. My chest was almost pressed against his, and the warm scent of him hit me all at once woodsy cologne, soap, and a hint of Ethan’s natural musk and my face heated immediately.

"Okay... maybe we’re a little too close," I murmured, trying to step back, but the small space and his broad frame meant there wasn’t much room to maneuver.

Before I could move any further, his hands slid to my waist, holding me gently but firmly in place. "Relax," he whispered, his voice low and calm, sending a strange shiver through me. "You’re fine. Nobody’s seeing us."

I blinked up at him, caught off guard by the tenderness in his eyes. "I... I know, I just—" My words stumbled, fading away. My hands instinctively pressed against his chest, trying to ground myself, though that only made the closeness hit harder.

He leaned slightly, brushing a loose strand of hair behind my ear, and his touch sent a warm twist of panic through my stomach. "You’re cute when you panic," he said softly, a teasing lilt still lingering in his voice.

I groaned under my breath, flustered, trying to focus on anything other than how nice it felt to be held, scrambling for some scrap of dignity. "You’re ridiculous," I muttered, but my voice gave me away...it was higher, softer, and more breathless than I intended.

The muffled sounds of Vanessa yelling to Shannon filtered faintly into the boutique, reminding me why I ran Ethan into the stall in the first place. "I want a green dress that complements my hair, and I will not settle for anything less!" Vanessa’s voice was as sharp and dramatic as ever, and I pressed my forehead against Ethan’s shoulder, half-amused and half-mortified.

Ethan chuckled quietly, brushing a hand over mine on his chest. "See? You didn’t even need to be scared. Just... strategically avoid them."

I exhaled shakily, the tension in my chest easing slightly. "Yeah... strategically avoiding them. That’s me. Master strategist."

He tilted his head, leaning closer so our foreheads were nearly touching. "Well, if this is your ’master strategist’ plan, I think you’re doing a fantastic job. Especially since it involves getting me this close," he said with a grin, and my cheeks betrayed me by flushing all over again.

I mumbled something incomprehensible, trying to focus on the small space between us, desperate not to melt entirely under the warmth of him holding me.

Before I could move further, his hands landed on my waist, holding me gently yet firmly. "Relax," he whispered, his voice low and calming, sending another strange shiver through me. "You’re fine. Nobody’s seeing us."

I looked up at him, caught off guard by the warmth in his eyes. "I... I know, I just—" My words stumbled and faded away. My hands instinctively pressed to his chest, though that only intensified the closeness.

He leaned in a little closer, brushing a loose strand of hair behind my ear, and his touch sent a twisting mix of warmth and panic through my stomach. "Shhhh, you don’t want them to find out we’re in here, do you?"

What did I get myself into?