My Stepbrother, My Enemy {BL}-Chapter 219: Is There Someone Else?

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Ethan rubbed the back of his neck and let out a small laugh. "Wow. We’re really bad at this, huh? It feels like I’m on a first date with someone I’ve known forever."

I couldn’t help but laugh too; it eased the tension just a bit. "Yeah. It’s... strange."

He leaned in, elbows on the table, his smile becoming softer. "How’ve you been? I noticed you weren’t in school for two days. Perfect-attendance Noah breaking his streak? I was kind of worried."

I shrugged, trying to act casual. "I’m fine. Just... busy. Family stuff."

He nodded, accepting my response even though I could tell he wasn’t completely convinced. Then he took a deep breath, as if he was psyching himself up.

"I thought about texting or calling to check on you, but I wasn’t sure if that was... okay? I’ve never done the whole ’break’ thing before, so I’m kind of lost here. Figured it was better to talk face-to-face."

My heart fluttered. Sweet, thoughtful Ethan—always worried about boundaries, even when I was the one drawing them with a damn crayon.

Before I could come up with a response, my mouth took over and crashed us straight into Awkwardville.

"That girl you were talking to this morning," I blurted out. "She’s... pretty."

Ethan blinked, clearly caught off guard.

"Uh... thanks?" Then realization hit him, and his lips twitched. "Wait—Dianna Raymond? Cheerleader Dianna?"

I nodded, already regretting every choice that led me here.

He chuckled and leaned back in his chair. "Yeah, she’s nice. She’s got a huge crush on my buddy Marcus and was looking for advice on how to ask him out. I was just playing wingman."

Relief washed over me so fast, I almost laughed at myself. Of course, that was it.

Ethan’s eyes danced with amusement. "Why? Were you jealous?"

I gasped dramatically, hand over my heart. "Me? Jealous? Never. I’m the epitome of chill."

"Right," he said, grinning. "Super chill. Ice queen levels of chill."

Then his expression softened, and he reached across the table to take my hand. His palm was warm and familiar, and my heart started that stupid aching thing again.

"I meant what I said, Noah," he said quietly. "About waiting. I’m not going anywhere. And honestly... girls aren’t really my thing anyway."

I chuckled softly. "I know."

He squeezed my fingers. "But if you need space to figure things out, I totally understand. Even if it’s tough."

I swallowed hard, guilt twisting in my gut. "You could... see other people, you know. If you wanted. While we’re on this break. I wouldn’t mind."

He frowned, his thumb brushing over my knuckles. "Like an open break?"

"I guess?" I replied, wincing at how unsure I sounded.

Ethan’s frown deepened. "Does that mean... you’re seeing someone else?"

That question just hung there—gentle yet pointed. I opened my mouth, shut it again, feeling my cheeks heat up. I couldn’t lie—not to those blue eyes looking at me like I was still his whole world.

My silence spoke volumes.

His gaze darkened, something almost menacing flickering behind the hurt—jealousy, raw and real. "Who?" he asked, his voice low.

I gulped, anxiety spiking hard enough that I could hear my pulse thumping in my ears.

The silence hung between us like a tightrope, fragile and risky, ready to break with the slightest misstep. Ethan’s hand still held mine on the table, warm and steady, but I could sense the tension in his fingers now, as they grew a bit too still. His blue eyes searched my face, initially patient, then narrowing with an intensity I’d seen only a few times before.

"Who?" he asked again, his voice low and almost gentle, though there was an edge beneath it.

I turned my gaze out to the snow-dusted courtyard, watching a couple of freshmen hurl snowballs at each other as if the world wasn’t quietly crumbling around us at this library table. My throat felt tight, words stuck behind my teeth.

Ethan leaned in slightly, his thumb brushing over my knuckles, something that used to make me melt, but now just twisted the guilt deeper.

"Noah," he said, his tone softer but firmer. "Why did you lie about there not being someone else? I thought we’d stop hiding things from each other."

I felt myself deflate like a balloon that someone had secretly punctured. All the air left me in a slow, defeated breath.

"I’m sorry," I whispered, finally meeting his gaze. "I really am. But I... I can’t tell you."

He didn’t pull his hand back, but I noticed the change, the way his shoulders tensed, the muscle in his jaw ticking. He stared out the window, blinking hard as if trying to maintain control.

I’d seen Ethan angry before...frustrated by a rough game, annoyed at a friend, even that one time he punched a locker after a fight with his dad over the phone.

But jealousy? That real, raw jealousy? That was rare. And when it emerged, it wasn’t loud or explosive; it was quiet, intense, like the calm before a storm you could feel deep down.

He turned back to me, his voice steady but tinged with something that squeezed my chest. "Do you love him?"

Oh shit.

The question dropped between us like a stone in still water, sending ripples spreading out, slow and unavoidable.

I looked down at our hands, seeing how his fingers still held mine, even though he had every right to let go. I couldn’t answer, not because I didn’t know.

God, I was terrified that I did...but because saying it might hurt him more than I already had. I’d promised myself I wouldn’t do that. Not again.

Ethan kept his gaze on my face, both patient and pained. When I didn’t respond, he exhaled slowly, as if releasing something.

"Or," he said quietly, "are you still figuring that out?"

I swallowed hard, my eyes stinging. The library felt suddenly too quiet, too bright, filled with all the words we weren’t saying. Outside, the snow kept falling in soft, careless flakes, blanketing everything in a clean white coat that made the world seem simple.

But nothing about this was simple.

I squeezed his hand gently, an apologetic gesture, then let go.

"I don’t know how to make this less awful," I admitted, barely whispering. "I’m so sorry, Ethan."

He offered a sad, lopsided smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. "You don’t have to. Just... be honest when you can, alright?"

I nodded, my throat too tight to say anything.