My Stepbrother, My Enemy {BL}-Chapter 191: A Not So Cold Roadtrip

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The SUV glided along the highway, its tires crunching over miles of frost-covered asphalt as the scenery outside transformed from manicured neighborhoods to gently rolling hills dusted with a light layer of snow. I sat in the passenger seat, knees curled up under me, staring at the swiftly passing evergreens, as if they held the secrets to every poor choice I’d made in the last day.

The heater blasted warm air that carried a faint scent of Adrien’s coffee, and some low-key indie music played softly from the speakers, but ever since we left the mansion, we’d barely exchanged more than ten words.

Thirty minutes of silence felt like it stretched into three hours. I kept thinking about how to break the ice—maybe something casual, or funny, anything that wouldn’t reveal how my mind was racing between Ethan’s heartbroken face and the guy sitting just two feet away...my stepbrother, who was also the reason my heart was all over the place.

Every thought I came up with seemed either too flirty or way too awkward, so I just kept fiddling with the zipper on my backpack.

Just when I was about to blurt out something dumb about the weather, Adrien saved me from my spiral.

"So," he said, shooting me a glance with that half-smirk of his that should definitely come with a warning, "ever done something like this before? A real road trip with friends, no parents, just terrible snacks and making questionable choices?"

I exhaled a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding and turned to him, thankful for the distraction.

"Nope, never. My mom thinks letting me ’explore’ means a supervised day at the art museum with a packed lunch and a strict curfew of four p.m. She’s seen way too many true-crime documentaries to let her kid just drive off into the sunset."

I mimicked her dramatic gasp. "One minute you’re heading to a concert, the next you’re in a ditch somewhere, and the cops are asking why I didn’t put a tracking chip in you."

Adrien chuckled low, the kind of laugh that warmed up the whole car. "That sounds about right. I, on the other hand, have had my share of adventures."

He smoothly shifted gears as we climbed a hill. "Back when I thought my friends weren’t total jerks, we’d pile into whichever car had gas money and just take off. Jumping off cliffs along the north shore in summer, terrifying but totally worth it. Hitting up random concerts in nearby towns. Sometimes I’d sneak off alone when everyone else was too hungover to function. Just driving until I ran out of gas and my mind finally stopped racing."

I nodded, picturing a younger Adrien in a beat-up Jeep, blasting music loud enough to drown out whatever was bothering him. It suited him...those secret solo trips under the guise of teenage rebellion.

"Of course, that was before I realized how messed up they really were," he added, his tone lighter than the words warranted. "Now I try to save my bad decisions for good company."

I rolled my eyes but couldn’t help smiling a little. "Flattery won’t get you anywhere. We’re probably missing, what, three important classes right now? AP Lit was doing group presentations today. I even had props."

He gave me an exaggerated horrified look. "Props? Noah, you absolute nerd. We’re missing one day of school, and you’re over here mourning your color-coded notecards?"

"I’m not a nerd," I protested, giving his shoulder a light shove...definitely a mistake because as soon as my hand made contact with solid muscle, my mind short-circuited for a split second. "I’m just responsible. There’s a difference."

"Responsible people don’t skip school to chase conspiracy theories across state lines," he pointed out, his grin widening. "Face it, you’re a secret delinquent. I’m a terrible influence."

"You’re terrible in every way," I muttered, but I was laughing now, the earlier tension loosening like a thread being pulled. His laughter brightened the atmosphere, and for a while, we let the comfortable silence settle in.

Eventually, I became serious again, watching snowflakes dance on the windshield. "I really hope we find Rachel," I said quietly. "Or at least something, any clue about what really happened to your mom."

Adrien’s grip on the wheel tightened almost imperceptibly. He hummed softly, keeping his eyes on the road.

"Yeah," he replied after a moment’s pause. "Same here."

The silence felt heavier this time. I could sense him deep in thought, his jaw working slightly as if he were chewing on words he wasn’t ready to voice. Then, quietly, he finally spoke.

"I wasn’t... the best son to her, you know, before she died." His voice was rougher than usual, like the confession was difficult to let out. "I was twelve, angry at everything, thought I had it all figured out. She’d try to talk to me about her worries...about Dad, money problems, and feeling like someone was watching and I’d just roll my eyes, calling her paranoid. I told her she needed professional help."

A bitter laugh escaped him. "I told my own mom she was crazy because it was easier than listening."

My heart ached for him. I studied his profile, the defined line of his cheekbone, the slight muscle tension in his jaw—and wished I could somehow ease the pain woven through his words.

"This is my last chance to make it right," he continued softly. "Six years later, and I finally believe her. If I can prove it wasn’t just an accident... maybe that means something."

The air felt too heavy in the car. I swallowed, my hand resting on the console between us, fingers tingling with the urge to reach across. To comfort him the only way I knew how. It was a bad idea, considering we were step-siblings, and I had just broken things off with Ethan...but the desperate need to touch him, to let him know he wasn’t going through this alone, overwhelmed all my sensible thoughts.

Before I could overthink it, I slid my hand across the console and gently covered his, which rested on the gearshift. His skin was warm, our knuckles brushing against each other, and I felt him jump slightly, just a quick intake of breath—before he relaxed under my touch.

He didn’t pull away.

Neither did I.

We drove like that for miles, my heart racing so loudly I was convinced he could hear it. Outside, the snow thickened, and we didn’t say a word about me holding his hand as if it were completely normal.

And honestly? In that moment, it felt like it was...

I also felt a lot warmer than I was supposed to.

𝔞𝔲𝔱𝔥𝔬𝔯’𝔰 𝔯𝔞𝔪𝔟𝔩𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰

Okay so I’ve been seeing some comments about Noah’s pronouns being feminine and I apologize...the thing is this novel was originally a 3rd person omegaverse bl but I changed it at the last moment because I felt it didn’t add much to the story...and it was also written in my language because it’s faster for me and google translate thought ’omega=female’...I’m so sorry for that, and I’m trying my best to edit those typos.

Thanks for your understanding