Puck Me Harder: A Stepbrother Romance [BL]

Micah’s POV

"What?" My head snapped up sharply, my eyes widening in pure shock. "Everything... to me?"

My lips parted as I tried to process his words. My immediate instinct was to open my mouth and reject it. It felt wrong, like taking money from a ghost I didn’t even know. But the words died in my throat. I would be an absolute fool to say no.

If Noah succeeded in his revenge and wiped Bernard out, where would that leave us? If Bernard was destroyed, the roof over our heads, the food on our table, and every dollar tied to the Miller name would vanish in an instant. We would be stranded on the street with nothing to our name.

Wait... not we. Just me.

Noah already had an underground network. He had armed men, a high-tech fortress hidden behind a burnt facade, and resources I couldn’t even begin to comprehend. He didn’t need Bernard’s money. He was already powerful on his own.

I was the only one left standing on the edge of a cliff with zero safety nets.

A sharp, painful realization hit me right in the chest. Working for Phoenix at the club was never just a temporary escape or a stupid distraction... it was probably my only lifeline. I needed to keep working, keep earning, and gather as much of my own money as humanly possible so I wouldn’t end up a helpless charity case dependent on someone else’s mercy.

I slowly leaned down and placed my untouched mug of milk tea on the tray next to Noah’s coffee glass.

"What happens to us after everything is over?" I asked, my voice barely louder than a breath.

Noah finished the last gulp of his black coffee and set the empty glass down right next to mine. He stood up to his full height, his massive frame towering over me, casting a long shadow across the polished floor. Step by slow step, he closed the distance between us until he was standing so close I could feel the intense heat radiating off his body.

"When it’s over?" Noah murmured. "We aren’t siblings, Micah. We aren’t related by blood. We don’t share a family name, and we don’t owe anyone a fake story anymore."

He reached out, his long, warm fingers wrapping gently but firmly around my wrist. He lifted my hand, bringing it up until my palm was pressed flat against his cheek.

"Maybe this will finally be the opportunity for me to be with you," he whispered.

The heat of his skin against my hand sent a violent jolt straight up my arm. A burning flush creeped up my neck, flooding into my cheeks so fast I had to tear my eyes away from his overwhelming gaze. My heart felt like it was going to burst right through my ribcage.

"Thank you for telling me everything, Noah," I stammered, my voice shaking as I stared down at his chest. "If you hadn’t... if you had kept keeping secrets from me... I might have ended up hating you."

The moment the word ’hating’ left my lips, the grip on my hand tightened instantly. Noah’s fingers dug into my skin. He forced my hand higher, pulling my knuckles to his mouth, and pressed a slow, burning kiss against the back of my hand.

I gasped softly, the heat in my face doubling instantly. The air in the room felt suffocatingly hot with a tension so heavy I could barely draw breath into my lungs.

"Hate me?" Noah repeated, his voice dangerously low, hovering right above my skin. "Is that so? Then I’m glad I told you."

He lingered against my skin for a second before shifting his grip, his thumb sliding up to catch the edge of my chin. With unyielding pressure, he tilted my head back, forcing me to look straight up into his eyes.

"Because whether you hated me or loved me, Micah, there is no universe where I let you go," he growled softly, his thumb pressing lightly against my lower lip. "Not to Damon. Not to Bernard. Not to anyone in this damned world."

He leaned down, his face stopping mere inches from mine, his warm breath fanning across my flushed skin.

"Consider today just another reminder of the truth," he whispered, his blue eyes locking onto mine. "You are mine, Micah. You have always been mine."

Oh God... please save me...

The frantic prayer echoed through my chaotic mind, but as I stared up into Noah’s intense, beautiful, terrifying face, the panic in my chest began to twist into something far more dangerous.

No... wait. Maybe there’s no need to ask for salvation anymore.

I was already a sinner. I was already completely lost.

I couldn’t pretend anymore. I couldn’t keep lying to myself in the dark. I loved Noah. I loved his suffocating protectiveness, I loved the way his touch made my whole world stop, and I loved the safety he built around me even when the rest of the world was burning down. I was gay, and I was completely, utterly in love with the boy who had spent his whole life playing the villain just to keep me alive.

My heart swelled with a sweet, terrifying warmth... until a dark, sharp blade of guilt sliced straight through my chest.

Damon.

The image of Damon’s sharp, wicked smirk flashed unbidden behind my eyes. I could still feel the lingering ghost of Damon’s lips brushing softly against my forehead, the playful, possessive way he called me ’darling’, and the wild, thrilling electricity that surged through my blood whenever he leaned close.

My stomach churned in agony as a cold sweat broke out across my back.

I loved Noah with everything I had... but my heart violently thrashed in my chest at the mere thought of Damon.

I stared into Noah’s possessive eyes, my throat completely locked up, my mind spiraling into absolute chaos.

How do I tell Noah that I also feel the exact same way for Damon?