My Stepbrother, My Enemy {BL}-Chapter 192: So He Likes To Ragebait

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I turned another page in Joanne’s journal, the leather cover soft and worn from years of use, the ink a bit faded but still enough to pull me into her world.

The entry I landed on was dated just after Adrien’s eighth birthday, some joyful ramble about how he insisted on wearing a cape to school for a week because "superheroes don’t take days off," and how she let him, since watching him strut into the classroom like he owned the place was the highlight of her day.

I couldn’t help but smile a little. "I wish I’d met her," I murmured, mostly to myself, tracing the looping letters with my fingertip.

"The way she writes about you here... it’s clear you were the light of her life. From the moment you were born, apparently. You could’ve been the biggest little terror and she’d still have written sonnets about your sticky fingerprints all over the walls. I’m sure she loved you, no matter how dumb you were."

Adrien glanced over from the driver’s seat, one hand casually on the wheel, the other resting on the gearshift where my hand had just been. The soft winter light coming through the windshield caught the darker flecks in his eyes, making them look almost amber for a second.

His expression wasn’t the usual cocky half-smirk; it was calmer, more open in a way that made my chest feel tighter.

"Thank you," he said, his voice low and slightly rough. "You have no idea how much that means to me."

He paused, his eyes darting back to the road for a moment before returning to me, steady and serious.

"That you’re still here. Still doing this with me...chasing the truth, sifting through the ugly parts—after everything I’ve put you through. After... everything." His gaze dropped for a split second, almost like he was giving me a chance to fill in the blank he wouldn’t say aloud. After knowing how I feel about you.

The air in the car thickened, warm from the heater, buzzing with something neither of us had named yet. I felt heat rush to my cheeks and quickly turned toward the passenger window, pretending to be fascinated by a snow-covered barn so he wouldn’t see the blush spreading across my skin.

"I’m just... doing what anyone would," I mumbled, trying for casual but landing somewhere closer to breathless.

Adrien let out a soft huff of laughter that was devoid of humor. "That’s not true," he said gently. "That’s not even close to everyone, Hamster."

My stomach jumped into a frenzy...like an entire aviary had decided to rehearse for the Olympics. I pressed my lips together, mentally scolding the flurry. Boundaries, remember? Step-siblings. Complicated family dynamics. The recent breakup I had orchestrated because my heart couldn’t decide what it wanted.

Just because Ethan and I were on a break didn’t mean I could dive into whatever this was with Adrien. Our parents were still married, still very much in the picture, and I had a mountain of feelings to sort through before I could even think about how his voice wrapped around my name like it belonged there.

To distract myself from the chaos in my stomach and the way Adrien was looking at me like he could see through every wall I was trying to build, I grabbed my phone from the cupholder.

The screen lit up with a silly photo of me and Rachel pulling faces from last summer’s fair, but the notification bar was stubbornly empty. No texts. No cheery good-morning message from Ethan. Nothing.

The disappointment hit fresh and sharp, even though I had no right to feel that way. I’d been the one who wanted space. I’d been the one to witness his face drop in that pizza booth. Expecting him to maintain our old routines like nothing had changed was just selfish and ridiculous, but apparently my heart didn’t get the memo.

I locked the phone again and shoved it face-down into my lap, frustrated with myself for even checking.

A light tap on my shoulder jolted me out of a dream I didn’t even know I was having, one where endless highways stretched out and a soothing voice narrated my childhood blunders like a podcast host. Blinking sleepily, I squinted at the bright afternoon light streaming through the windshield and realized the car had stopped moving.

The engine was off, the indie playlist was silent, and Adrien was watching me with an amused expression that was part fondness, part mischief.

"Rise and shine, sleepy hamster," he said, his voice teasing as he unbuckled his seatbelt. "We’ve officially left Willow Haven, and you’ve managed to snore through at least two counties."

I sat up a little straighter, rubbing my eyes and trying to brush off the embarrassment of warmth creeping up my neck.

"I do not snore, Asshole." I insisted, though the groggy rasp in my voice completely betrayed me. "And I wasn’t sleeping that long."

He raised an eyebrow, clearly skeptical. "You fucking drooled a bit on the window. There’s a tiny fog heart where your cheek was pressed. Very artistic."

"Oh my God, shut your ass up," I groaned, hastily wiping my face just in case he wasn’t completely lying. Outside, the scenery had changed drastically, no more familiar suburbs or neatly lined strip malls.

We were parked in front of a solitary, weathered convenience store at the edge of a quiet rural road, the kind of place that looked like it had been there since the dawn of gas pumps. Snow-dusted pines loomed close behind, and the only other signs of life were a couple of old pickup trucks and a flickering neon sign that read "OPEN 24/7" in half-lit pink letters.

Adrien was already stepping out of the driver’s seat, stretching his arms overhead until his jacket rode up just enough to expose a sliver of skin that I definitely didn’t stare at. 𝒻𝑟𝘦𝘦𝘸ℯ𝒷𝑛𝘰𝓋ℯ𝘭.𝘤𝘰𝘮

"We’re low on gas and even lower on snacks," he announced, slamming the door. "You went through an impressive amount of gummy bears during your pre-nap frenzy. Let’s restock."

I grabbed my coat from the back seat and followed him across the crunching gravel lot, the cold air hitting me like a splash of ice water. Flurries drifted lazily from the gray sky, catching in my hair as we walked toward the entrance.

The bell jingled cheerily when we stepped inside, releasing a wave of warm air that smelled like burnt coffee, microwave popcorn, and something vaguely pine-scented from a rotating air freshener shaped like a Christmas tree.

Adrien grabbed a basket from the stack by the door, immediately prowling the aisles like he was on a mission. I followed behind him, still trying to shake off the last remnants of sleep.

"Why," I asked, narrowing my eyes at the back of his head as he tossed a bag of beef jerky into the basket, "do you feel the need to tease me at every possible chance? I was peacefully unconscious. You could’ve let me wake up with some dignity."

He glanced over his shoulder, that infuriating half-smirk firmly in place.

"Because it’s fun," he said effortlessly, reaching for a family-size bag of cheesy puffs. "Watching you get all worked up and yell at me is basically my new favorite hobby. Your nose does this adorable little scrunch thing when you’re mad."

"My nose does not scrunch," I retorted, even as I felt it trying to scrunch in real time. "And that’s a terrible hobby. You should take up knitting or something less emotionally damaging for me, you fucking moron."

"Knitting lacks the same entertainment value," he countered, tossing in two giant bottles of iced tea. "Plus, deep down, you secretly love it. Admit it, you’d be bored if I stopped."

I rolled my eyes so hard I almost saw yesterday. "I would be happy. There’s a difference."

He laughed, the sound echoing softly in the mostly empty store as he led us toward the candy aisle. "Happiness is overrated. Chaos keeps things interesting."

I grabbed a pack of sour gummies off the shelf and dropped them into the basket with maybe a bit too much force. "You’re a weirdo, you do know that right?"

I was honestly shocked that he openly admitted that making me mad as shit was his favorite pass time.

"And yet here you are," he said, his voice dropping lower in that way that always sent my stomach doing flip-flops, "voluntarily stuck in a car with me for hours, eating gas station candy and listening to what you call emo music."

I opened my mouth to fire back, but honestly, he wasn’t wrong, and that realization left me momentarily speechless. Instead, I huffed and turned to check out the chocolate selection as if it held the answers to life’s mysteries.

Behind us, the cashier, a guy in a flannel shirt and a Santa hat that had seen better decades...watched our back-and-forth with the mild amusement of someone who’d seen countless teenage dramas unfold in these aisles. Adrien added a couple of candy bars to our growing haul and then nudged my shoulder gently.

"Come on, sleepy hamster," he said, guiding me toward the register. "Let’s stock up and hit the road before you pass out again and start writing love sonnets to your pillow in your sleep."

"I hate you," I muttered, but I couldn’t help but smile as we unloaded our bounty onto the counter.

"Come on, Princess," he said cheerfully, pulling out his wallet as he brushed my hair off my forehead. "We all know you don’t."

And honestly? I didn’t have a witty comeback for that one either.