My Stepbrother, My Enemy {BL}-Chapter 43: Lucky Guy

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The aroma of coffee mixed with cinnamon syrup filled the air as I settled into a corner booth at Shellie’s Diner, stirring my milkshake for what felt like the hundredth time. The little bell above the door jingled every few minutes, making my heart race in anticipation — only to drop when it wasn’t him walking in.

Ethan was thirty minutes late, which was unusual for him.

I checked my phone again, maybe for the tenth time, scrolling through our earlier texts and rereading his messages. I hoped it might shed some light on his absence. I tried to stay calm — maybe he got caught up with something, or practice ran late, or maybe his phone died. But the longer I waited, the more anxious I became.

The waitress came over again, balancing a tray and giving me a smile that felt almost too bright. She looked around my age, maybe a bit older, with strawberry-blonde hair in a messy bun and a small heart tattoo on her wrist.

"Still waiting for someone?" she asked, leaning on the table a bit.

"Yeah," I replied, trying to sound casual, even though my voice came out softer than I intended. "He’s just... running a little late."

She hummed, tapping her pen on the notepad. "So they’re making a pretty boy like you wait? I’d never let that happen."

I wasn’t dumb enough to be blind to the fact that she was flirting with me...which was strange seeing as no one except for Ethan had ever flirted with me.

I blinked, feeling my cheeks heat up before I could respond. "O-oh, um—"

Her grin widened, clearly enjoying my flustered response. "You know, you get really cute when you blush."

I wasn’t blushing because I was flustered, I was blushing because I was kind of embarrassed to get hit on by an actual girl.

I stared at her, a bit taken aback. My mind raced for a polite reply as I tucked a hair behind my ear. "Uh... thanks?" I managed to stammer, my voice barely a whisper.

She chuckled softly, sliding a napkin toward me with a number and her name...Stacey scribbled on it. "Just in case your girl doesn’t show. You seem like you might need a backup."

Bold of her to assume it was a girl I was waiting for.

Can’t blame her though.

"Oh—no, I—" I fumbled over my words, gently pushing the napkin back to her. "That’s really nice, but I... I’m actually dating someone." 𝙛𝓻𝒆𝓮𝒘𝙚𝙗𝒏𝙤𝙫𝓮𝒍.𝓬𝒐𝙢

Her expression faltered momentarily before she pouted playfully. "They’re so lucky," she said lightly.

I was about to apologize for being awkward when her smile froze and her gaze darted behind me.

Before I could turn, I felt a familiar presence, the kind that shifts the air even without words.

Then I heard his voice...calm, but just low enough to raise the tiny hairs on the back of my neck.

"Yeah," Ethan said from behind the waitress. "I’m really lucky."

The waitress stiffened a bit, mumbling something about taking our order before hurriedly leaving.

I turned slowly in my seat, and my heart skipped when I saw him standing there. Ethan’s dark hoodie was damp from the rain outside, his jaw tense, and his eyes locked onto mine with an unreadable expression. It wasn’t exactly anger, but there was some simmering intensity beneath it that made me forget how to breathe.

"Hey," I said softly, unsure as I tried to smile. "You’re late."

He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he slid into the seat across from me, his gaze flicking briefly toward where the waitress had gone before landing back on me steady and somehow too intense.

"I’m sorry to keep you waiting."

"It’s okay."

For a moment, it felt like neither of us knew who should speak first.

The silence hung heavy, making the air feel louder than any words. Ethan attempted to smile that familiar, easy grin that usually put everyone at ease but there was something off about it tonight. It didn’t reach his eyes.

As he leaned back in the booth, the light caught his face, and that’s when I noticed it. The bruising.

At first, I thought I was seeing things... a faint discoloration near his jaw, a darker mark along his cheek that definitely wasn’t there before. My breath hitched, and before I could stop myself, I leaned forward.

"Ethan," I whispered, fingers hovering just above his skin. "What happened to your face?"

He blinked, looking startled for a moment, before his usual smile returned. "Oh, this?" He laughed it off, rubbing the back of his neck. "Guess it’s from the fight. Maybe it looked better in the mirror than it does now."

But that wasn’t true. I’d seen him after the fight, remembered every bruise, every cut, these were new.

"Don’t lie to me," I said softly, unable to tear my gaze away from him. "These weren’t here yesterday."

He froze for just a second, then reached for his drink and took a slow sip, trying way too hard to seem casual. "They just showed up afterward, I guess. Stress bruises or something."

"Ethan," I murmured, my voice firmer now, though it trembled. "That’s not how bruises work."

Something flickered across his face, a mix of surprise and exhaustion, but it disappeared almost as quickly, hidden behind that same charming smile. "Noah, it’s nothing, alright? You don’t have to worry."

But I couldn’t help it. My heart ached at seeing him like this, at the way he hid whatever was going on behind his usual charm. I moved closer, sliding out of my seat to sit beside him, ignoring the curious glance from the waitress across the diner.

"Hey," I said, reaching up to gently touch his face. His skin felt warm under my fingers, and he went still, as if unsure how to handle the tenderness. "You don’t have to pretend with me."

His eyes finally met mine, and for the first time, I saw how tired he looked beneath the charm, shadows under his eyes and a slight tremor in his jaw, like he was holding back something.

"I just..." I hesitated, my thumb brushing lightly along his cheek. "Please tell me what happened to you."

He exhaled slowly, covering my hand with his, his palm rough against my skin. "Noah," he murmured, his voice low and strained, "you really don’t need to worry about it. I promise, it’s not a big deal."

"It is a big deal," I insisted, feeling a tightness in my throat. "Because it’s you. And I hate seeing you pretend everything’s fine when it’s not."

For a moment, silence enveloped us. The low hum of the diner filled the space between us; plates clinking, soft conversations buzzing, and the rain gently tapping against the window.

Ethan looked down, his fingers still wrapped around mine. "You really shouldn’t care so much," he finally said, but his voice cracked slightly, trying to sound light.

I shook my head, leaning in until our foreheads almost touched. "Too late," I whispered. "I already care."

His lips parted slightly, as if he wanted to say something, but the words didn’t come. He just sat there, staring at me like he wasn’t sure how to deal with someone who actually saw him.

And for a fleeting moment, I thought he might finally tell me the truth.