Holy Hearts: Prologue

Malakai

Seventeen Years Ago

“If I were in this movie, I’d definitely trip while running away from the killer.”

“You’d trip and then look back like, ‘Why is this happening to me?’ Classic Malakai move,” Julian adds, laughing. It makes me smile. His laugh is something I’ve heard a thousand times, but lately, it hits differently. I don’t know why. “If I were in this movie, I’d be hiding under the bed instead of running toward the sound. Survival 101.”

“But we wouldn’t have a movie if everyone was smart. Where’s the drama in that?”

“Touché.” Julian passes the popcorn to me. “If the killer from this movie doesn’t get them, I’m pretty sure the awful dialogue will.”

“Come on, Julian. It’s a classic.”

“You Americans and your proclivity for god-awful slasher movies. I’d take a chainsaw-wielding killer over this plot any day.”

I’m grinning as I take another handful of popcorn. “You’re such a menace.”

The movie plays in the background for another few minutes, the only sounds our chewing and the overdramatic screams of the clowns on-screen.

“Hey, I got an email about housing next year,” Julian says casually. “If you want to be roomies next year, we should fill it out so we don’t lose out on a room.”

The popcorn turns to lead in my mouth as I attempt to swallow. The sound of pouring rain outside sounds louder all of a sudden. “Yeah. Okay.”

I hate how my chest tightens. Moving into seminary housing isn’t the end of the world, but leaving this dorm—leaving him—feels heavier than it should.

Julian must notice the shift in my tone, because he turns to face me. “Hey, no pressure. I know things are a bit up in the air for you because of the seminary application—”

“I got accepted into the program,” I blurt, sitting up straighter. “I got the email this morning, and I was going to tell you—”

“I fucking knew you would,” he says, his gaze lingering a little too long. His grin falters for just a second. It’s quick—so quick I could’ve imagined it. But I didn’t. “I’m so proud of you, Kai. When does it start?”

I hand the popcorn back to him, taking a deep breath. “January.”

His brows pull together. “Oh, so we’d—”

“You’d have to get another roommate for next semester,” I tell him at the same time, ignoring how my chest aches.

“But you got into the program!” Julian says brightly, though his smile doesn’t reach his eyes. “I suppose I can find another roommate who doesn’t snore.”

I punch his shoulder. “Screw you. I don’t snore.”

He chuckles. “Whatever you say.”

“I’ll still be at Crestwood University, but we have to live with the other seminary students,” I explain, reaching over to get some more popcorn. I can’t remember if I’d explained that part of the program, but apparently not considering his pinched expression.

“I see,” Julian concedes. “Makes sense.”

We both watch the horror movie in silence for a few more minutes, finishing the popcorn.

“Seriously? This heroine… Ugh. Instead of calling for help, she’s going to investigate the noise?” I ask, trying to diffuse the situation a bit. I didn’t expect Julian to react poorly to me moving out of our shared dorm room, but as I study his serious expression and tense jawline, I realize I might’ve underestimated the impact my leaving would have on him.

“Horror movies and common sense don’t mix,” he says drolly.

“Do all these characters have a death wish? They’re literally running into danger,” I grumble, reaching the bottom of the popcorn bag as one of the heroines begins to explore the dark woods alone. Julian shifts slightly, and his knee brushes against mine.

Something inside of me shifts, but I tamp it down before I can acknowledge it.

“Maybe they’re just trying to distract themselves from their feelings. Works for some people, right?” Julian answers, sounding almost bitter.

My brows pinch. “Hey—”

“I’m going to go heat up another bag of popcorn in the common room,” Julian says, hopping off the bed and throwing the empty popcorn bag into the trash. “Want anything else?”

“I’m good,” I tell him, watching his weird behavior with narrowed eyes.

After he walks out of the dorm, I sigh and lean back against the wall of Julian’s bed. Is he really that worried about getting another roommate? I’m not easy to live with—I’m antisocial and I go to bed at ten p.m. He’s the life of the party, and he has, like, a thousand friends. Everyone loves Julian Ashford. I figured he’d be happy to find a roommate more predisposed to his night-owl tendencies. We’re only in our freshman year, so it’s not like we’re short on time to hang out. We still have three and a half more years here together. Plus, it’s not like we’d never see each other. I’m only going across campus.

I don’t have long to contemplate the out-of-character behavior of my best friend, however, because a second later, Oscar is knocking on the door and peeking his head inside.

“Hey, Kai,” Oscar says, giving me a fist bump.

“Sup, Oscar?”

Aside from Julian, Oscar and the rest of my friends from theology have been a saving grace this semester. Julian likes to call them my “God friends”—they’re all religious, and they attend church every Sunday. There’s just something about being in church, surrounded by like-minded people. It’s so different from how I grew up. There’s light and goodness in church. Warmth. Community. It’s a stark contrast to the silence and tension that always hung heavy in my house growing up.

“Not much. We’re going to watch a movie and make some popcorn in my dorm. Want to join us?”

I shake my head. “Thanks, but no thanks. I’m introducing Julian to some of the classic American slasher movies.”

“Ahh. Sounds fun. Hey, did you give any more thought into the ministry conference next month?”

I rub my mouth and imagine what I’d tell my father if I decided to spend my winter holiday at church camp, let alone what he’ll say when I tell him I’m dropping out of the business program at Crestwood University in lieu of seminary school. The ministry conference would be a really good way for me to get to know the others in the seminary program before it started, but I hadn’t decided yet. The two-week conference in Mexico City could be life-changing. Mom would be thrilled—she was always encouraging us to travel. But my dad? If I didn’t get a return on my investment, he’d call it a failure. The man didn’t have a charitable bone in his body.

And I’d decided from a very early age that I didn’t want to be anything like him.

“Sort of. Can I let you know by Monday?”

“No rush, man. But we’d love to have you. Have you told Julian the news about seminary?” he asks.

I nod. “Yeah. I told him a few minutes ago.”

“And? How’d he take it?”

Shrugging, I rub my mouth with my hand. “Fine.”

“Really?” he asks. “Huh. I would’ve expected him to be devastated.”

I laugh. “Devastated? Why?”

Oscar shuffles his feet uncomfortably. “Aren’t you—I mean—” He rubs the back of his neck. “He’s your boyfriend, right?”

My chest feels tight with… something… shame, maybe. But then the absurdity of the situation hits me, and I burst out laughing.

“What? No!”

Oscar’s face turns red. “Fuck, sorry, man. I just assumed.” He holds his hands up. “But if you were together, it wouldn’t matter, just so you know—”

“Well, we’re not,” I say a little too loudly.

Oscar opens and closes his mouth before he crosses his arms. “I know this isn’t my place, but are you sure he knows you’re just friends?”

Shock rolls through me. “Yes,” I tell him sternly.

“Okay. It’s just that he talks about you nonstop in biochem. It’s kind of adorable,” Oscar adds.

“Are you sure we’re talking about the same Julian? My Julian?”

“Yeah. I just assumed…”

That uncomfortable, tight feeling returns. “No,” I stammer, feeling a rush of warmth in my cheeks. It’s not just the absurdity of the idea that rattles me. It’s how quickly I’m dismissing it—like I’m afraid to sit with it for too long, for fear of the idea sinking in too deeply. “You’re wrong.”

“Sorry, man. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“No, it—it’s fine,” I stutter.

“I should go. Let me know about the conference before Monday, okay?”

I nod and wave him away, but it feels like I’m dreaming or drowning… and I’m not sure which, or why an innocent assumption threw me off my game so much.

My heart is racing, and I rub my chest with my hand. Julian and me? The thought is laughable.

I’d never even considered the idea…

A minute later, Julian returns with two bags of popcorn. “Got you your own bag so we don’t have to share,” he mumbles, handing it to me.

“Thanks,” I say slowly, observing him as he climbs into the bed next to me. He purposefully positions himself farther away, too, and my mind races.

I study his profile as I look over at him, wondering what he’s thinking. His white-blond hair is flipped over to one side, and his day-old, ash-blond scruff makes him look older than his eighteen years. I’ve been trying to grow my beard for years unsuccessfully, and I have to shave every morning so that no one can see how patchy it is.

I’ve always been envious of it.

I mean… yeah. He’s good-looking. I’ve noticed. But I don’t really think of him that way.

“Why are you staring at me?” he asks, chewing popcorn. His eyes don’t leave our tiny television screen.

“You’re acting weird,” I tell him truthfully.

He shrugs. “I’m fine. Just tired.”

He’s lying, but I don’t understand why. We continue to watch the movie until it ends with the heroine stabbing the serial killer in the neck. He puts another DVD in, and I don’t see what it is. I don’t really care. The rain continues to pour outside, so much so that Julian gets up and looks out of the window.

It reminds me of something an old man would do, and I have to try not to laugh. His moods are so apparent, and when Julian is happy, everyone is happy.

When Julian is miserable…

“It’s pissing down outside,” he mutters, but he doesn’t look at me as he gets back into the bed. Every time he gets back in bed, he situates himself a little farther away.

And I can’t help but think of what Oscar said—about the way Julian talks about me in class. What does he say? Maybe Oscar is just misreading the situation. We’re close, sure, but Julian has never said or done anything to make me think he’s anything but straight.

I can’t shake the feeling that when it comes to Julian, there’s something deeper I’m not seeing.

I usually go home on the weekends since Crestwood University is only a short drive away from Ravage Castle, where I grew up. My father had called Julian a word I’d never heard him use last weekend, and while it made me angry, it also confused me—now more than ever. I’d brushed it off last weekend, but now? That’s twice someone’s mentioned it.

Julian dates women.

He likes women.

We even check out girls together sometimes.

And, as his roommate, I’ve definitely caught him jacking off to porn.

I suppose it’s possible he’s bi… or lying to me.

I don’t like how that thought makes me feel. Not that I would ever judge Julian for who he’s attracted to—despite being interested in religion, I keep an open mind. But the thought of Julian being anything other than straight makes my heart race in a way I’m not sure I understand.

And what about me? I’m straight, so why am I having this reaction?

Maybe I’m not as certain about my own sexuality as I assume. Especially when a sex scene comes on the screen, and my neck burns. I imagine the couple on-screen is Julian and me, and I think about how it would feel to run my hands over his chest, to feel his breath mixing with mine, to feel his calloused hands on my bare skin—

No.

This isn’t me.

“My dad wants me to come home,” Julian says, interrupting my thoughts. “Since you’re not going to be here next semester, maybe I should take him up on his offer.”

His words cut through my existential crisis, and I swing around to face him fully. “Back to England?” I ask, my voice hard and accusatory. “I’m moving across campus, not across the world,” I add.

Julian’s jaw hardens. He still won’t look at me. “Oh, so it’s okay if you move out, but it’s not okay if I do?”

I scowl at him. “What? That’s not—”

“Duty calls, Ravage. You should know that better than anyone,” he says, and his voice is so… melancholy. Unfriendly.

My chest aches as I stare at my best friend.

I knew he’d have to go back to England after college. As the eldest Ashford son, and a baron or a viscount, I think—not that it mattered—his responsibility to his title is inevitable.

“I don’t want you to move back,” I say.

Julian’s jaw feathers as he stares at the TV screen. “What’s the point in staying in an empty dorm room, or applying for a room next year? I don’t really want to live with anyone else.”

“But your degree—”

“My degree?” he asks, scoffing. “I can finish a liberal arts program anywhere. In fact, I’m sure Oxford or Cambridge would be happy to oblige another Ashford,” he adds, sounding almost disgusted at the prospect. “It’s not like I need to get a job after university with my connections.”

I swallow hard, my thoughts spinning. This feels wrong. I only intended to tell him about seminary. I thought we’d discuss housing. It was supposed to be simple. And yet, it’s somehow spiraled into something deeper. Rubbing the ache in my chest, I tell myself it’s not a big deal, though it feels like a turning point, somehow.

If Julian goes back to England, I won’t see him every day. The thought grips me harder than it should, twisting in my chest.

I can’t even make sense of it, but the idea of him being gone feels unbearable, like more than just physical distance.

What the hell am I so afraid of?

“It feels like you’re punishing me for moving across campus,” I offer.

Julian finally turns to face me, and his eyes flash with fury. “You’re being a hypocrite.”

I huff out an outraged laugh, climbing off the bed. “You wouldn’t be leaving if I wasn’t. If anything, you’re the hypocrite,” I accuse, nostrils flaring.

Julian climbs off the bed too, and the movie drones on behind him.

“A heads-up would’ve been nice,” he says through gritted teeth. “I spoke to my father yesterday and told him to fuck off, just so you know.”

“Then don’t go!” I say. My voice is too loud, because Julian’s eyes widen just a fraction. “No one is making you go back to jolly good England, Julian. I’ll be a five-minute walk away. I don’t understand what the big deal—”

“I already told you I don’t want to live with anyone else,” he offers, narrowing his eyes and walking closer to me.

For years, I was taller than him. But in the last year or two, he’s gained a couple of inches.

It suits him. Julian’s personality is larger than life, so it makes sense that his physique would follow suit.

“Why? They might not even assign a new roommate for next semester, and then you can get one of those single rooms next year.”

He looks away, and I watch him as he shuffles his feet. The Julian Ashford I know could talk to a frog for hours. He gets along with everyone. People love his accent, his charisma, his charm. Any future roommate would be lucky to have him.

An unexpected pang of jealousy flares through me.

I imagine someone else watching slasher flicks with him on Friday nights, or his future roommate throwing their pillow at him when he snoozes through his alarm for the fifth time.

Mental images of another guy bringing him his favorite chocolate bar float through my mind.

Those are our things.

Then I think about how, because of seminary, we might drift apart naturally.

It’s such a horrible thought that I briefly squeeze my eyes shut before opening them again.

“Just… it’s nothing,” he says, thumbing his nose and walking over to his desk. He picks up his keys and wallet, shoving them into his pocket. “I’m going for a walk.”

He turns and walks past me, and I don’t know what compels me to do it, but I reach out for his arm and wrap my hand around his wrist.

“Julian, talk to me,” I urge.

Julian slowly drags his eyes up to mine. “I’m sorry. I need fresh air.”

I don’t let go—instead, I curl my fingers tighter. His pulse is racing against the tips of my fingers, and his eyes flick between mine as if he’s searching my face for something.

“I’m your best friend. You can tell me anything,” I say, my voice softer.

A sad expression drags his features down. “Yes. We’re the best of friends,” he says, sounding sarcastic. What the hell?

The corner of his mouth curves up slightly, and I can’t help the way my eyes track the movement. He tugs out of my grip and pulls the door open before disappearing through it.

“Fuck,” I whisper, running a hand through my short hair.

Quickly turning off the TV, I begin pacing the dorm room. I’m not sure what just happened. Everything was fine until I told him about seminary.

No, he was fine until you said you had to move out.

The thought nags at me.

But why? Why does it matter if we live together or not? We can still see each other all the time when I’m not busy.

I walk in circles as my mind races.

Is… is it possible that he has feelings for me? Is that why he’s acting out? There’s no way he’d willingly go back to England otherwise. He hated the pomp and circumstance of his title. Julian made sense in California. The long-ish, blond hair. The jeans and flannels. The friendly attitude. He was more of a native Californian than I was.

A flash of lightning is immediately followed by a clap of thunder.

Chewing on my lower lip, I deliberate between staying put or going to make sure Julian is okay.

Another flash of lightning has me slipping into my boots and grabbing my jacket. Pulling the door open, I almost walk right into Julian, who is standing there, soaking wet. His chest rises and falls as his eyes sweep across my face. Neither of us moves. Instead, he takes a step forward just as we’re both plunged into complete darkness.

Power outage.

“Fuck,” I whisper, looking around.

“Kai,” Julian says, his voice husky.

“Flashlight,” I add, twisting around and stumbling back into the dark room. I nearly trip over something and catch myself on one of the beds, and my hands skim over the wood before my fingers curl around the desk drawer. Pulling it open, I fumble inside for the flashlight and pull it out.

After I switch it on, I look over at Julian. He’s still standing by the door, still out of breath, still soaking wet. His hair lands over his forehead and rivulets of water fall down his face, bouncing off his scruff onto his wet, long-sleeved shirt.

“You okay?” I ask, clearing my throat.

Julian rubs the back of his neck and looks away. “Yeah. Just needed some air. Got more than I bargained for, I guess,” he adds, shaking his hair slightly.

I watch my best friend as he takes a tentative step back into the dorm room.

“You’re acting weird. Are you sure everything’s okay?”

“I’m fine,” he says quickly. Too quickly. “Just… trying to process everything.”

I stand up straighter. “I told you, the only thing that has to change is us rooming together. We can still hang out.”

“I know.”

“Then, what? This feels like more than that,” I add, gesturing to him.

He sighs. “I’ll be fine, Kai. Really.”

The concern from earlier turns into something nagging and irritable. He’s avoiding me, and I want to know why. If what Oscar said is true, we should talk about it. The last thing I want is to lose him as a friend.

Julian steps into the dorm room fully and begins stepping out of his wet shoes.

“I know you, Julian. I know something’s bothering you. Please just talk to me. Whatever it is, you don’t have to hide it from me. You know I’ve always had your back, no matter what.”

Julian pauses, and a shadow of annoyance crosses over his expression. “It’s complicated.”

I take my chances and decide to make a playful joke. “No offense, but when is it ever not complicated with you? Remember that time you tried to charm your way out of three different speeding tickets in one day? You can’t even keep a road trip simple. Or the time you organized that spontaneous weekend trip to Vancouver—only to forget your passport and sweet-talk the customs officer into letting you through. Everything with you turns into an adventure.”

Julian smirks and looks down at the floor. The storm rages outside, and somehow, the dim room seems smaller in the dark. Julian is standing still, dripping wet, clearly struggling internally.

And for some reason, my heart is racing.

Julian runs his hand through his wet hair. “It’s just… everything’s changing, Kai. England, my family, us. I don’t know how to deal with it. I want everything to stay the same. I’m happy here.”

With me, I think.

I swallow. “You mean me? You don’t know how to deal with me leaving?”

He freezes, and his eyes flick up to mine. “That’s not what I—”

“Then what?” I cut in, taking a step closer. I know I’m pushing him. The truth is, I’m scared of his answer. But I need to know. Can’t stand the thought of not knowing. “Because you’ve been acting weird since I told you I’d be moving out. And I don’t think it’s just about you going back to England.”

The corner of Julian’s mouth twists with exasperation. “What do you want me to say, Kai? That I’m scared of leaving? Of losing this—us?”

My heart thumps against my ribs, and it feels like I can’t breathe. “That’d be a good start.”

There’s another tense pause. The air feels heavy, charged with more than just the storm outside.

“I’m scared of everything. What happens next… and what I’m feeling.”

My throat tightens with anticipation, and I ball my fists at my sides. “What are you feeling?”

Julian stops moving. One shoe is off, and his face and hair are still wet. He’s drenched and vulnerable, and his guard is down in a way I’ve never seen before. It’s disorienting, and my mind is reeling with confusion.

If someone had asked me if Julian was attractive, I’d have said yes. He’s my best friend… of course I noticed the way people’s eyes tracked his features, his muscular build, his bright smile.

But now?

Now I can’t help but notice the way the stark light from the flashlight catches the blond scruff along his angular jaw, the sharp cut of it softened only by the faintest shadow. His thick brows frame those piercing blue eyes, cool and stormy beneath dark lashes that brush his skin when he blinks.

“I don’t know what to do with this. With… you. Every time I’m around you lately, it’s… different, and I can’t figure out how to deal with it.” His voice is uncharacteristically unsteady, as if he’s struggling to find the right words. “I don’t know how to handle it.”

I attempt to steady my voice, but my hands are shaking. “Maybe you don’t have to handle anything. You can just… let it be what it is.”

Julian takes a deep breath, finally meeting my eyes. There’s something raw and desperate in his gaze.

“And what if what it is… isn’t what I thought it’d be? What if it’s something I can’t take back?” His voice breaks on the last word, and I unconsciously take a step closer.

“Then maybe it’s something you don’t need to take back.”

The words are out of my mouth before I can contemplate them.

Julian stares at me, and the distance between us suddenly feels like too much. He takes one step forward, then another, his chest rising and falling quickly. I don’t move, watching Julian’s internal battle play out on his face and letting it happen.

Because maybe I want it to happen.

“Can I try something?” Julian asks, his voice quiet.

The air between us suddenly feels different. Heavier. His eyes, barely visible in the dark, search my face like he’s waiting for me to say no.

I don’t.

Instead, I swallow and answer. “Yeah.”

“Turn off the light. I can’t—I can’t look at you while I—”

I flick the light off before he can finish his sentence. My pulse rages in my veins, and a strange ripple shoots down my spine. I shift slightly, attempting to ease the knot tightening low in my stomach, but the movement only makes me more aware of him. It sparks something—a ripple of heat that catches me off guard. It’s as if my body knows what’s happening before my mind does, and before I can stop it, a warm, heady ache unfurls low in my gut.

It’s unmistakable now—spreading, insistent. My cock feels heavy… half hard at first, like it’s testing the waters.

And then it gets achingly rigid.

My mind is racing, bouncing between the fear of what this could mean and the hope that it’s exactly what I want, though I can’t even admit that to myself yet or explain this wild fucking turn of events. I can feel the weight of the silence between us, heavy, charged. But what if this is a mistake? What if I’m wrong, and everything changes for the worse? He’s my best friend. If this goes wrong, what happens to us?

But… the thought of him being this close, of something happening… it makes my chest tighten with anticipation.

The sound of his ragged breathing gives me goosebumps, and I can smell the shampoo he uses—it’s herbal and minty and familiar.

A split second of lightning illuminates the room for half a second, and the look on Julian’s face makes me inhale sharply. Determination. Courage. But also… fear.

I hear him take a step closer, and he’s close enough now that I can feel the heat radiating from him. Everything inside of me is burning—probably because the jackass in front of me has the heater set to eighty.

Or maybe he’s the one making me feel like I’m about to spontaneously combust.

“Please don’t be scared,” he murmurs, almost whispering. “I just… I need to know. But you can tell me to stop.”

The connotation of his words, of what he’s about to do, sends a wave of anxiety through me.

“Okay,” I say softly.

He takes another step closer. Julian. My best friend. The bizarre situation before us almost makes me laugh, but it feels too serious to laugh. I feel heavy and grounded, almost like I’m going to implode from wanting—needing—to see what he’s going to do.

One of his hands finds my jacket, and he slowly tugs me closer to him. Everything inside of me is pulsing, hinging on this one strange moment with him. He pulls me even closer so that we’re standing chest to chest, and I can smell the sweet, buttery scent of his breath, and the musky scent of him.

I’d never considered how he smelled before this moment, but I don’t hate it. In fact, the smell of him—of something rich with hints of bergamot—brings me comfort. I’m desperately trying to see his face, but it’s still too dark to see anything.

I need to know if he’s about to do what I think he’s about to do. I need to prepare myself, and I don’t like not knowing.

“Seriously,” he whispers, his breath fanning across my face. He’s close. “Just tell me this is a fucked-up idea and we never have to talk about it a—”

I fist his shirt and pull his mouth to mine.

We both go still, and I swear he must be able to hear how hard my heart is hammering in my chest. His lips are hard and unmoving, and the only thing I can hear is the sharp, surprised staccato of his breathing through his nostrils.

Fuck.

I kissed him.

I made the first move.

And now he’s too stunned to move, and holy shit what if I got it all wrong—

He moves his tongue over my lower lip and parts my lips with it. White-hot heat flares through me, and my whole body tingles as his warm hands come to my torso. I don’t know what I’m doing, but my body does.

I pull him closer like I’ve done it a hundred times before.

He tastes like the popcorn we were just eating, but also something minty and wild. The second my tongue lashes against his, it’s like a fire has been lit beneath me.

I pull him into my torso by his shirt, gripping it for stability. He lets out a surprised sigh against my lips before pushing me back against my desk. My thighs hit the edge, and then he’s knocking my legs apart with his foot so that he can step between them.

Julian taking charge shouldn’t surprise me, but it does.

Only because it’s laughable that he thinks he’d be in charge.

I push him backward until he hits his desk, and the sound of something falling has us both huffing laughter as we fight to stay connected. He tries to push me backward, but I move one hand to the base of his throat, and I feel him go still underneath me before he groans.

It’s a husky, deep sound that has my whole body tingling.

“Kai,” he whispers. “Fuck.”

I move my hands to his hips. I’m not even sure what I’m doing—I’ve only kissed a girl two times, never had sex, and never felt like this.

Like I’m already addicted to something I’ve never tasted before.

Arousal crawls down my spine, sinking into my balls and causing my cock to throb. Well, this is… new. I press into him harder, feeling frenzied and frantic. Julian’s tongue sweeps along my lower lip again, and then he pulls that same lip between his teeth, and I…

“Fuck,” I hiss, dragging his hips against mine and rocking myself against his hard length.

He releases a heady moan. “Stop doing that unless you want to take this further than you’re willing to go,” Julian says into my mouth.

The shock of his words, commanding and intense, causes me to stumble back.

My eyes have adjusted enough to see the outline of his body, but I can’t see his expression.

“Sorry,” he mutters, lifting a hand to his lips.

I huff a nervous laugh. “For what? I kissed you, Julian.”

“I— Yeah. You did.” He places a hand at the back of his neck. “Why?”

“Just saving you the trouble of making the first move.”

He blushes. “Fair enough.”

His face starts to become visible, and he’s watching me with a disoriented expression. I don’t move. I can’t. Everything feels charged, like we’re standing on the precipice of something life-changing.

“I’m not gay,” he says, his voice frayed.

“I know,” I say, though I’m not entirely sure why I’m trying to placate him. “But you’re not straight, either.”

He laughs again. “Is anyone one hundred percent straight? You’re not either. Obviously.”

My lips quirk. “Fair enough.”

“How long?” he asks, and I know what he’s asking. He’s buying time, and I’m not sure if it’s from nerves, or something else.

I shrug. “An hour? I dunno. It never occurred to me that you’d…” Looking down, I’m not sure what I’m trying to say. “What about you?”

He doesn’t answer. I look up, and he’s watching me with narrowed eyes. “This doesn’t change anything, right?”

“One kiss? Nah.”

“You sure?”

I nod. “We’re cool.”

“I really do need some fresh air,” he says, walking over to where he stepped out of his shoes. “I’ll be back later. Don’t wait up.”

He’s gone before I can think of something to say.

Something to stop him.

Something to get him to kiss me again.

I stand frozen, lips still tingling. The dorm feels bigger, emptier, and the space between us has never felt so wide. Letting out a shaky breath, I run a hand through my hair and try to quell the unease and confusion that I’m feeling. I drop my head back until I’m staring at the ceiling.

What the hell was that?

I’m still trembling, so I close my eyes and take several deep breaths. My first instinct is to call Liam or Miles, my older brothers, but I don’t even know what they’d say. When I open my eyes, I look around the dorm room. Flicking the flashlight back on, I change into sweatpants and a T-shirt before grabbing my toothbrush. The walk to the communal bathroom is eerie in the dark, but the voices behind the door are comforting. I quickly brush my teeth and wash my face, and just as I’m drying my neck with a hand towel, the lights flicker back on.

I can’t help but stare at my reflection.

I’m not gay.

I know. But you’re not straight, either.

I’d never really contemplated my sexuality before tonight. I just assumed I was straight. I took a girl to homecoming and prom. I had a girlfriend for a couple of months junior year of high school. But I wasn’t like Chase, my younger brother. He’s the popular guy in high school, and all the girls flock to him. And me? I preferred to watch everything from the sidelines. I stuck to hanging out with Julian and his friends.

I think back to senior year, and how Julian and I had been dubbed “Best Bromance.” We’d laughed it off, and I never even thought about if it bothered him. Why would it? He dated around a lot. He loved women.

He might not be straight, but he’s not gay.

But… am I?

I blow out a slow breath of air. I got hard for my best friend. I can still feel his lips on mine, taste the butter and mint, hear the frenzied way he said my name.

Kai. Fuck.

It had been supplicant and desperate. Just the thought of Julian saying my name like that…

It makes me want to scream.

I flick my eyes up to my reflection, and I look haunted. My short, dark hair is messy as always, and my gray eyes have dark circles underneath them. I’ve been told I’m attractive, and I suppose I’ve always just accepted it, but now… now I’m not sure what I see. There’s something different. Maybe it’s in the way my lips still tingle, like they’re betraying me with memories I shouldn’t have.

His lips. Julian’s lips.

I can’t stop thinking about it. It wasn’t supposed to feel like this—this deep, gnawing confusion in my chest, like something’s come undone inside me and I don’t know how to stop it. I’d kissed him. And in that moment, it felt like everything clicked into place… and shattered all at once.

It was just a kiss. Just a silly, impulsive kiss.

But my head’s spinning, and I can’t stop replaying it over and over, searching for something that makes sense. Something that tells me what I want it to mean.

What should it mean? I can’t even tell if I want it to mean anything, or if I’m terrified that it does.

No.

This isn’t me. It can’t be me. I’m not… like that. I’ve never been like that. I like girls. I’m supposed to like girls.

My reflection comes back into focus.

I don’t even recognize the person staring back at me.

Why can’t I just stop thinking about it? Why can’t I stop thinking about him?

About him. Him.

I grit my teeth, gripping the edge of the sink until my knuckles turn white, trying to shake off the feeling. Julian’s my friend, and that’s all he’s ever going to be.

That’s all I can ever give him.

I’d kissed him. I’d kissed him.

His lips—Julian’s lips.

It doesn’t mean anything.

It can’t mean anything.

It was just… just a mistake.

A ridiculous mistake.

I push myself away from the sink, trying to shove the thoughts down, and bury them deep where they can’t reach me. As I walk out of the bathroom, I catch a glimpse of Julian coming down the hallway, his eyes meeting mine, hopeful, maybe even confused.

But I can’t face him. Not now… not after what happened. I twist around and walk the other way. My heart pounds in my chest. Don’t look back.

Not now.

Not ever.

Every step feels heavy, like I’m not just walking away from Julian.

I’m walking away from our friendship: everything we were, every memory, every secret.

But I can’t stop.

I have to keep moving.

Even if it means losing him forever.

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