My Stepbrother, My Enemy {BL}-Chapter 81: Another Shitty Surprise

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During our big ’Welcome Home!’ lunch, Mom had a field day teasing me. It felt like everyone was in on the joke, trying to see just how red I could get.

Mom laughed softly, watching the embarrassment creep onto my face. "He’s really sweet, Noah. You’re lucky, you know? Most boys your age can barely remember to text back, let alone actually come looking for you."

I ducked my head, pretending to concentrate on my plate as my cheeks heated up. "I didn’t think he’d go that far," I mumbled, managing a small smile.

Across the table, Adrien paused, his fork hanging in midair. "Yeah yeah," he said flatly. "Can we talk about something else for a change?"

His tone was casual, but there was an edge to it that made me look up. His gaze wasn’t on me, though; he stared down at his plate, jaw tight, the muscle twitching just a bit before he went back to eating as if nothing was wrong.

I told myself it was nothing, just Adrien being his usual self, annoyed that Ethan was even around in the earth. He’d always had it out for him, and that wasn’t news.

After lunch, the laughter returned as Mom poked fun at me a few more times about "young love" and how "adorable" Ethan’s feelings were. Even Keith got in on it, telling me to "go easy on the poor guy next time" so he didn’t show up at their gate like a lost puppy again. I rolled my eyes, trying to hide my embarrassment, but my smile gave me away.

When the meal wrapped up, I quickly excused myself, saying I wanted to unpack before I fell asleep right there. Adrien mumbled something about checking on the car and wandered off toward the garage.

In my room, I began unpacking, folding clothes, putting my books back on the shelf, rearranging everything that had been sitting untouched for the last couple of weeks. It felt oddly grounding, with the sounds of drawers closing and hangers clicking breaking the silence that Clearwater had left behind.

Once everything was sorted, I flopped onto my bed with a sigh and grabbed my phone. I opened my messages, heart racing a little in hope—only to see that Ethan still hadn’t seen my reply.

The "delivered" mark was just sitting there. No "read," no typing bubbles, nothing.

I frowned, chewing on the inside of my cheek. Maybe he was busy. Or still upset with me.

I set my phone aside, reminding myself not to overthink it.

By the time I grabbed a towel and headed to the bathroom, the afternoon sun was dipping through my window, casting golden streaks on the walls. The shower hissed on, steam wrapping around my hips as I stepped in, letting the hot water wash away my travel fatigue.

Yet, even with the warmth soaking into my skin, I couldn’t shake the thought of Ethan driving all the way to Oakfield for me. I wondered what he must’ve been thinking when he couldn’t find me.

And, in the back of my mind, despite knowing better, I couldn’t stop thinking about the look on Adrien’s face when Mom mentioned him. That unreadable, shadowed look I’d seen too often to ignore.

As I stepped out of the shower, wrapped in a towel with damp hair on my shoulders, the house felt quiet again. Almost peaceful. But my thoughts were anything but calm.

Because somehow, amid all that teasing and warmth, I realized that things had gotten complicated. Not just with Ethan, but with Adrien too. And definitely with the way my heart raced every time I thought about either of them.

Steam clung to me as I left the bathroom, towel wrapped tightly. I was already mulling over whether to blow-dry my hair or let it air dry when I glanced toward my bed—and screamed.

"Adrien! Shit!"

There he was, sprawled across my sheets like he owned the place, one arm lazily behind his head, that annoying smirk on his lips. It was the same infuriating scene as it was before...

Would he ever stop doing that?!

He didn’t even flinch at my yell, just looked up at me with that infuriating calm. "You know," he drawled, "for someone who screams this much, you really ought to start locking your door."

"Do you even get what privacy means?" I shot back, tightening my grip on the towel as I backed up against the wall. "Or knocking? Or not breaking into someone’s room right whenever they’re in the shower?"

Adrien just stretched like a lazy cat, his grin getting bigger. "Relax, it’s not like I haven’t seen you like this before. You should be used to it by now."

I blushed furiously.

"Used to what?" I shot back. "You creeping into my space like some weirdo?"

"Hey," he said, propping himself up a bit, "you make it sound like I actually enjoy seeing you panic."

"You do!" I pointed at him, my voice rising. "You totally do! You’re smiling right now!"

He laughed, unfazed, leaning back against the headboard like he owned the place. "I think you’re just overreacting. Again."

"Oh my God, get out!" I groaned, marching toward him before remembering I was in just a towel and stopping short. "Adrien, I swear to fucking God, if you don’t leave right now—"

"What?" he teased. "You’ll throw your towel at me? Honestly, I’d prefer you didn’t. I really don’t think your mom would appreciate a murder happening so soon after lunch."

My face burned hot enough to feel it even through the steam. I let out a frustrated noise and turned on my heel, darting back into the bathroom and slamming the door. "Stay right where you are!" I shouted through the door. "And don’t freaking touch anything!"

His laughter floated through the wood, that smooth, annoying laugh that made my blood boil and my stomach twist at the same time.

By the time I threw on some comfy clothes and stepped back out, he was still there, except he was now standing by my bookshelf, idly flipping through one of my paperbacks.

I crossed my arms. "Do you ever just sit still? Why are you even here?"

Adrien glanced over his shoulder and shrugged. "Do I need a reason to be somewhere?" he asked, sliding a book back into place.

"Yes," I replied flatly, walking past him to grab a comb from my dresser. "Yes, you absolutely do. Especially when you’re in my room."

He didn’t answer immediately; he just watched me through the mirror while I started combing my hair, the air still warm from my shower...I tried not to think about his eyes watching me through the reflection.