My Stepbrother, My Enemy {BL}-Chapter 122: The Confrontation

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I jogged through the trees, branches whipping against my arms, my breath sharp and uneven in my chest. My mind was still spinning, struggling to catch up with everything that had happened in the span of a few chaotic minutes, the almost-something between Ethan and me shattering before it even had time to settle.

I spotted Adrien’s back up ahead, broad shoulders tense beneath the fading gold light filtering through the woods. He was walking fast, furious, determined, but I pushed myself harder until I caught up, grabbing the back of his arm.

"Adrien—wait!"

He didn’t. He yanked his arm forward as if shaking off a spider.

That only pissed me off more.

I surged ahead and planted a hand on his shoulder, spinning him around so fast he actually had to take a step back.

"What the fuck, Adrien?!" My voice came out louder than I expected, but I didn’t care. Everything boiling inside me needed an outlet.

He stared down at me with that same cold, seething glare he’d walked in with—jaw tight, eyes sharp enough to cut glass. His anger radiated off him in waves, like heat from asphalt on a summer day.

"What was that?" I demanded, breath shaking. "What the hell is wrong with you? Why would you even—why would you ruin my date like that? Why would you just show up and start yelling like a maniac?"

His mouth pulled into a bitter line. "Why?" he repeated, voice low and dangerous. "You want to know why?" He stepped closer, the tension between us sparking like static. "Explain why you were about to have sex with the first guy you’ve ever dated just because he was a little nice to you."

I felt the words like a physical blow.

For a second, I forgot how to breathe.

"What did you just say?" My voice trembled, but not from fear but from sheer disbelief.

Adrien didn’t back down. If anything, his expression hardened.

"You heard me," he said. "You barely know him, and you were—"

"Oh my god." Heat flared up my neck, not embarrassment...rage. "Did you seriously just imply that I’m some kind of male slut? Is that what you’re calling me?"

"No," he ground out immediately, eyes narrowing like I’d slapped him. "I didn’t say that."

"Yes, you did," I shot back, hands shaking. "You basically said I’ll freaking sleep with anyone who’s ’a little nice to me.’ What else is that crap supposed to mean?"

"That’s not—" He exhaled sharply, fingers tugging at his hair in frustration. "That’s not what I meant."

"Then what did you mean, Adrien?" I stepped forward until my chest brushed his. "Huh? Because I’d love to know."

He clenched his jaw, muscles tightening in his throat, but he didn’t speak.

Oh, no. Not after all of this.

"No," I hissed. "You do not get to storm into the woods like some self-appointed morality police, humiliate me, fight Ethan, drag me off my date, and then act like you have the right to tell me what I should or shouldn’t do with my own body."

His nostrils flared. His fists flexed at his sides. But he said nothing.

"And you sure as hell do not get to dictate who I sleep with."

His eyes snapped to mine then, sharp, stung, almost wounded. I almost missed it, but it was there.

I pushed anyway.

"So tell me, Adrien," I said, voice finally steadying as anger gave way to raw confusion. "Why did you follow us out here? Why did you drive into the woods? Why did you show up at the cliff?" My breath hitched. "What are you trying to do? What the fuck do you even want from me?!"

He didn’t answer.

He just stared, his jaw tight, eyes stormy, chest rising and falling with heavy breaths. The silence stretched so long that it wrapped around us like vines, pulling the air thin.

And in that silence, for the first time...

I saw something else beneath his anger.

But I didn’t understand it.

Not yet...His silence stretched just long enough to make me feel the first sting of hurt beneath my anger. I swallowed hard, heat crawling up my neck.

Fine. If he wanted to say nothing, then I would.

"You know what’s funny?" I said, voice shaking even though I tried keeping it firm. "You’re here, yelling at me, acting like I’m some kind of...of reckless idiot who can’t make her own choices. Meanwhile, you go off doing God knows what with Vanessa every other weekend, and I don’t say a damn thing."

His head snapped up at that, eyes narrowing sharply. "What does Vanessa have to do with this?"

I let out a bitter laugh. "Are you serious right now?"

He glared, jaw locking. "We’re not even... together."

"Right," I scoffed. "Not together, but hooking up, making out, sneaking off to her house, letting her hang all over you in the hallways, that doesn’t count, right?" His expression flickered with something I couldn’t name. I pushed harder. "So you get to do that with someone you don’t even care about, and that’s perfectly fine. But the moment I have one nice evening with the boyfriend I actually love, suddenly it’s a crime?"

The word hung between us like a gunshot.

Adrien blinked, once...twice.

His expression didn’t soften. It hardened, so sharply I almost stepped back.

"You love him?" he asked, his voice low and jagged, like it cut coming out of his throat.

"Yes," I said, steadying myself. "I do."

He stared at me as if I had physically hit him. His hands curled into fists, and his breath came out unsteady, like he couldn’t find the right rhythm.

Then he shook his head, once, harshly.

"No," he muttered. "No, you fucking don’t."

"I think I know my own feelings better than you do," I snapped.

"You’re wrong," he said, voice rising. "You don’t love him."

My heart thudded painfully. "And how the hell would you know what I feel? You don’t know anything about me outside of being an asshole!"

That word landed hard.

He froze, eyes dark, jaw tense, chest rising and falling in deep, uneven breaths. For a second, his composure slipped. Something raw flickered across his face, gone as quickly as it came.

The woods around us felt suddenly too quiet. The fading sunlight filtered through the branches, catching dust and pine needles, turning the air gold around him. Adrien stood there like a storm trapped in a human body, every muscle pulled tight, every breath laced with tension.

But he didn’t say anything.

He just stared at me with that infuriating, unreadable expression as if my words had slashed through something he didn’t want anyone seeing.

And it made my chest tighten in a way I didn’t want to acknowledge.

Shit.

Had I gone to far?