Chapter 19 Chapter Nineteen

Chapter 19 Chapter Nineteen


\[Ari\]

Josh finally landed on a movie, triumphant as if he’d solved the world’s problems, but the low hum of the TV only made the silence inside me louder. Gavin’s warmth at my side should’ve steadied me—it usually did—but instead it felt like a question I couldn’t answer, a weight pressing harder the longer I stayed still.

Eben’s laugh drifted over the room, light and careless, and yet… not. I knew him well enough to read when he was just being himself, and when something sharper was tucked underneath. Tonight, it was different. And I couldn’t shake it.

My stomach tightened. I couldn’t sit here any longer, not with Gavin’s gaze lingering on me, heavy as if he could see right through my skin, not with Eben pretending nothing was wrong when I knew better.

I swallowed, forcing my voice to stay casual, light enough not to draw suspicion.

“Hey, Eben,” I said, pushing myself up, brushing invisible lint from my jeans. “Can you help me with something in the kitchen?”

I didn’t look back at Gavin as I said it. I couldn’t.

Because if I did, he’d know this wasn’t about grabbing snacks.

It was about answers.

Eben arched a brow, that easy smirk tugging at his lips as if I’d just asked him to join me in on some grand scheme. “Sure thing, princess,” he said, rising with the same carelessness he always wore. But I caught it—the flicker in his eyes, that tiny edge that didn’t match the grin.

The kitchen felt colder than the living room, the hum of the fridge louder than usual as I moved toward the counter, pretending to fuss with a stray dish just to give myself a second to breathe. Eben leaned back against the counter like he owned the place, arms crossed, waiting for me to speak first.

“Well?” he finally teased, tilting his head. “What’s the emergency? Out of chips? Or did you just miss my company?”

Normally I would’ve rolled my eyes, played along. But the words stuck in my throat. Instead, I turned to him, forcing myself to meet his gaze.

“You’ve been… different,” I said quietly, the words heavier than I meant them to be. “Tonight. Since—” my breath caught, heat rushing to my face at the memory of the almost-kiss, the way Gavin’s eyes had burned into mine. “You’re not just… being you. So what’s going on, Eben?”

The teasing look faltered, only for a second, but I saw it.

And suddenly, the kitchen felt too small, too sharp, like the walls had leaned closer to listen.

Eben smirked as he leaned against the counter, arms crossed like he had caught me red-handed.

“You mean how I caught you making out with my brother in our guest room?” His tone was light, sing-song even, the kind of jab only a younger brother could get away with. He even grinned wide, like he thought he was being hilarious.

But the longer I looked at him, the less it felt like a joke. His smile stayed too long, his eyes not really matching the curve of his mouth.

I forced out a laugh, trying to brush it off. “You’re never gonna let me live that down, are you?”

Eben tilted his head, shrugging casually. “Depends. Was it, like, a one-time ‘oops,’ or should I start charging rent for you two to use the guest room?” He laughed at his own joke, but there was a sharpness underneath it, a deliberate pause where he watched me too closely.

It was supposed to be the same old Eben—the easygoing, flirty, always-pushing-buttons little brother. But this? This felt different. Calculated.

And suddenly, I couldn’t shake the feeling that he wasn’t just teasing. He was holding something back.

I narrowed my eyes at him, the fake laugh dying on my lips. “You know, I’ve known you my whole life, Eben. I can tell when you’re just being your annoying little brother self and when you’re… not. So what’s with this?”

His grin faltered, just a crack, and for a heartbeat the kitchen felt too small. He leaned in, closing the space between us, his shoulder brushing mine like it was an accident.

Up close, his eyes caught the light—ocean blue, familiar but not the same as Gavin’s deep emerald. Gavin’s gaze always pulled me in, steady and grounding. Eben’s, though, felt different. Shifting tides I couldn’t read.

There was something flickering there—was it annoyance? Displaced anger? Or something else entirely, something I couldn’t quite put a name to?

My throat tightened as I held his stare, every instinct telling me not to look away, even though part of me wanted to.

“Eben,” I pressed, sharper this time, my voice low but demanding. “What is going on with you? You don’t get to just act weird and—”

Before I could finish, he closed the gap.

It wasn’t a deep kiss. Not even really a kiss—just the brush of his lips against mine, a fleeting graze that stole the air from my lungs and tilted everything I thought I knew sideways.

I jerked back instantly, shoving at his chest, my eyes wide. “What the—Eben?!” My voice cracked, breathless, more shocked than angry.

The room seemed to tilt. My hand flew to my lips, trembling where the ghost of him lingered. A thousand half-formed thoughts screamed through my head, crashing into each other, none of them making sense.

Back in the summer, hadn’t he…? He’d been all for me and Gavin together. He’d teased, pushed us closer, laughed about it like it was obvious. Or—had I just wanted to believe that?

I stumbled a step back, heart pounding, staring at him like I didn’t even know him. “Why?” The word slipped out, small and broken, because I had no idea what else to say.

Eben didn’t step closer, but he didn’t step back either. His chest rose and fell fast, his ocean-blue eyes locked on mine with something raw—something I’d never let myself see before.

“I always liked you, Ari,” he said, his voice low, uneven, like the words had been dragged out of him. “It was always just you and Gavin. Always. I knew that. Everyone knew that. But when I saw how close you two have gotten—how much you’ve… chosen him—I couldn’t hold it in anymore.”

The words hit harder than the kiss.

I blinked, my hand still pressed to my lips like it could erase the memory, my stomach twisting with disbelief. “Eben…” My voice faltered, breaking on his name.

He dragged a hand through his hair, like he hated himself for saying it but couldn’t stop now. “I tried to laugh it off, tried to be the fun one, the one who just messes around. But it wasn’t a joke. Not for me.” His mouth curved in something that was supposed to be a smile, but it was sharp and pained. “It was never a joke.”

The air between us felt jagged, too tight to breathe. My pulse thundered in my ears. Everything in me screamed to run, but my feet wouldn’t move.

Because part of me couldn’t believe this was happening—not here, not now, not after Gavin.

My throat closed around the words I wanted to say. I didn’t love Eben—God, no—but the thought of crushing him, of saying something sharp enough to sever this moment, hurt more than I expected. He wasn’t supposed to look at me like that. Not him. Not after everything.

Confusion knotted in my chest, tightening until it hurt to breathe. I didn’t step forward, didn’t step back—I just stood there, frozen, as if moving would make the whole thing real. His eyes stayed on me, ocean-blue and full of something I wasn’t ready to face, and I hated the way my heart stuttered—not from wanting him, but from the heaviness of knowing I could never give him what he thought he wanted.

Then Josh’s voice rang out from the living room, breaking the spell like glass shattering.

“You two done in there? We don’t got all night!” he called, impatience dripping off every word.

The sound jolted me back, made me swallow hard and force my hand away from my lips. I blinked at Eben, searching for words, but nothing came. The silence between us was louder than Josh’s teasing voice, louder than the TV buzzing in the other room where Gav

in was still waiting.

And for the first time in forever, I didn’t know what to do.