BlazeHe spills his hot cum all over my face as he grabs my head and pulls me away, groaning through clenched teeth. Seeing the expression on his face gives me a twisted satisfaction... seeing how much he's helpless under my touch.He finally raises his head, our eyes locking for a while before he stretches his hand to wipe the cum off my face—but instead, he grabs me. In one swift movement, he flips me, my back hitting the couch, legs in the air like I’m some fuck toy he just unwrapped."Carlo—" I start to say, but he ain't listening. His fingers are already yanking my boxers off like it personally offended him.I don't fight it.He raises both my legs with one arm, his palm still wet with his cum, and then he fucking slides his hand straight into my hole."Did you get wet on both sides from sucking me?" he smirks, that cocky expression that used to piss me off so bad. But now? It makes my stomach twist and burn in a whole different way. Shit, I even blush.Fucking hell, I blush like
Blaze“You’re not leaving, are you?” I ask him, stretching across the bed to steal the last pancake off his plate.Carlo smirks, grabbing the fork before I get to it. “Not unless you’re kicking me out.”I roll my eyes, flipping onto my back, letting the sheet fall off my stomach. “Tch. I should kick you out. For breathing too loud.”He chuckles. “What the? This is my house and please, I breathe sexy.”“This is my room and no, you breathe like a middle-aged dog.”It’s been a month. Just one fucking month since this thing started—whatever the hell this is. A month of not killing each other. Of actually sleeping in the same bed. Of sneaky fucks. Morning breakfasts that turn into lazy conversations about dumb shit. Nights where we talk so much I forget why I hated him.And yeah, I hated him. Still do sometimes. The smugness, the way he never fucking backs down, the fact that he always has something to say when I want silence. But somehow, he’s here. Still here. And I’m not asking him to l
CarloHow Blaze and I managed to drop our defenses and set our differences aside still baffles me. It’s like we spent years burying something real beneath layers of resentment—hatred we clung to so tightly, we forgot what even started it.Ever since that night he saw my tattoo, things have shifted. There’s this magnetic pull between us now, like gravity finally gave up fighting. He’s loosened up around me, more open, more… him. It’s almost hard to believe we were ever at each other’s throats, and somehow, that contrast makes every moment with him feel even more addictive.But the more I accept how deep I’ve fallen for this idiot—the same one I’ve been pretending to hate for years—the more I start to unravel. I’ve known it since that damn first night: I love him. And now that I do, everything feels more fragile. He keeps putting up this wall every time I try to move us forward, like he’s scared of what it means. Hell, maybe I am too.What if I cancel the contract? Will he walk away? Wi
Carlo“I need to piss. Don’t start a fight while I’m gone. I mean it. I’m watching you two.” Blaze says, standing from the table with his phone already in hand.I don’t even wait until he’s out of sight. The second he’s gone, Felix’s eyes cut into me like knives.“What the fuck are you planning, Carlo?”I lean back in my chair, chewing slowly. He looks like he’s about to rip the tablecloth off and wrap it around my neck. Good.“Planning? What the fuck do you mean? I’m enjoying a nice dinner with my boyfriend.”He glares at me, jaw tight. “Don’t fucking call him that. You know exactly what I mean. This shit you’re pulling, whatever the fuck it is—I’m not letting you drag him down with you.”I scoff. Loud. Like it’s the dumbest shit I’ve heard all night. “Drag him down? You think I forced him into anything? Please. He’s already mine. You just can’t handle the fact you’re the closest person to him and still couldn’t grow the balls to say how you feel.”His hand twitches on the table. For
Blaze“You better not fucking crash this car,” I mutter, yanking at my seatbelt, heart already pounding harder than it should.Carlo just smirks, cocky bastard. His hands are steady on the wheel, but his eyes? They flash that wicked glint he gets when he’s about to do something dumb, dangerous, or insanely hot.“That depends,” he says smoothly. “You gonna let me fuck you or not?”I shoot him a side-eye, trying to play it cool, even though my dick’s already half-hard from just hearing his voice drop like that. “You’re ridiculous. We’re literally still close to Felix’s street.”“And your point is?”“My point is I’m not about to get railed in a fucking car while his neighbors walk their dogs.”Carlo chuckles low in his throat. “Relax, princess. I know a spot.”I roll my eyes, annoyed that I’m not already yelling for him to turn the fuck around. But I don’t. I sit there, arms crossed, staring at the road like I give a damn. Truth is—I’m buzzing. Still. Ever since brunch.Watching Felix ne
Carlo“You don’t even greet your older brother?”Ah, every fucking sense of peace I was carrying from Blaze’s place just flew out the damn window. I was feeling good. Real good. That kind of good that fucks with your head. I hadn’t even parked for more than a second and already this bastard is running his mouth.I slam the car door shut and shoot him a look, walking past like he’s air. I don’t have time to deal with fucking parasites.“Oh, I see you’re still dreaming of being called the dear older son of Davenport, the heir to Davenport who was raised by his mother and never knew his father was the richest business man in New York City…”I laugh. Loud. Hard. It echoes off the damn driveway.“Listen, bastard, don’t ever call yourself my brother. Yeah, you’re his son, whatever. But you? You don’t fucking exist to me. You can keep walking around with that fake-ass choir boy act, but I see straight through it. You’re a snake in daddy’s pretty little suit. Now excuse me.”I brush past him
Blaze“Yo, pass me that damn wrench, the long one.” I snap, wiping the sweat off my forehead with my bare arm. My fingers are greasy, my shirt’s half soaked from crawling under the damn bike for hours, and my head’s pounding.Felix slides the wrench across the floor to me. “You need a break, man. That bike’s dead, let it rest in peace.”“It ain’t dead. She’s just a stubborn bitch.” I grumble, grabbing the tool and getting back to twisting bolts. “Kinda like someone I know.”He laughs. “Talking about me or Carlo?”I pause. My hand freezes. The sound of metal scraping metal halts. I pretend like I didn’t hear shit. “Don’t piss me off.”“Touchy.”I flip him off under the bike.Minutes pass. Silence settles in. The only sound is the occasional clink of my tools and the buzz from the old fan spinning weakly in the corner.“You know your hands are magic, right?” Felix says the moment he ends the call he was on secs ago.I snort, not even looking up from the bike engine I’m elbow-deep in. “I
Carlo“You like someone else?”That’s the first fucking thing I hear. I freeze. My hands curl into fists at my side as I watch Blaze hug Max. I’m standing there, right behind them like a goddamn idiot. The words keep echoing in my head. Blaze just told him he likes someone else.My fucking chest tightens. It’s not even jealousy that hits me first. It’s fucking betrayal. Hurt. That ugly, familiar sting that makes me wanna punch something—or someone.I don’t even wait. I move.I storm toward him like I’ve got fire in my damn blood. Felix and Max are still standing right there, but I don’t give a shit. Blaze’s eyes lock with mine and go wide.“Carlo?” he says, like he didn’t just say some shit that cracked my ribs open.I grab his arm, not too rough but firm enough, and yank him away from them. He’s resisting, but I don’t care. I drag him with me toward my car, my teeth grinding. I don’t even know what I’m gonna say yet, I just know I need to get the hell away from an audience before I l
Carlo“You’re still here?” I mutter, walking into the living room and spotting Felix on the couch like he fucking lives here.He glances at me, smug as ever. “Good morning to you too, Carlo.”I hate his voice. Too calm. Too fucking smug. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think he’s trying to get under my skin on purpose. But I do know better—he is.I walk past him without saying another word. I’m not in the mood for his bullshit, not this early. I head straight for the stairs, checking on Blaze first before I deal with anything else. He’s awake, sitting up in bed with his crutches leaning against the nightstand, flipping through some stupid magazine.His room smells faintly of antiseptic and vanilla—him. The curtains are half-drawn, sunlight slicing through the room in streaks. He looks comfortable, like he’s finally getting used to being home again. There’s something peaceful about that. The kind of peace I don’t get often.“Hey,” he says, eyes lighting up when he sees me. “Thought yo
CarloWeeks later.“You still awake?”I look up from my screen, surprised to hear his voice. I didn’t even hear him coming. That’s how focused I’ve been. Blaze is standing by the edge of the living room, leaning on the damn wall like he’s trying to look casual. His steps are slow, but shit—he’s actually walking. No crutches. No help. Just that annoying limp that’s been driving him insane.“You’re climbing stairs now?”He shrugs like it’s no big deal, but I see that hint of pride in his eyes. “Yeah, figured I’d surprise you.”I shut the laptop halfway and eye him as he limps closer. There’s this stupid grin on his face like he just won a damn medal.“You should’ve called me.”“For what? I ain’t crippled.”I grunt. Typical Blaze. Always acting like he’s fine when his body’s been through hell and back. I try not to hover too much lately, but fuck, it’s hard.He comes closer and reaches for the laptop on my lap, placing it gently on the table beside the couch. Then he straddles me like it
Carlo“Four fuckin’ hours, doc. You sure that’s normal?”My voice sounds like shit, dry and rough from too much pacing and zero fuckin’ sleep. I’m leaning against the wall outside the OR, arms crossed so tight my muscles are starting to cramp. Felix’s long gone—he couldn’t sit still, said he’d come back later. I don’t blame him. It’s hell just waiting. Every fuckin’ second feels like I’m stuck in a pressure cooker.The nurse doesn’t answer. Just tells me again to wait and walks off like I didn’t just ask that for the third goddamn time.So I wait.I keep checking the double doors like Blaze is gonna walk out himself. Dumb. Fuckin’ dumb. He’s cut open, knocked out, leg sliced up while they try to fix something he should’ve handled years ago.I should’ve forced him.I should’ve noticed the limp sooner, the way he tried to hide how bad it was getting. I should’ve dragged his stubborn ass to the hospital myself. But no—I had my head too far up my own shit.Four fuckin’ hours.I don’t sit.
Blaze“The fuck is taking so long?” I mutter, mostly to myself.No one answers.Felix has been pacing the hallway for like thirty minutes straight. Dude looks like he’s about to start ripping his own hair out. His shoes are squeaking against the floor every time he turns—back and forth, back and fucking forth like a trapped animal.Inside the room, it’s quieter. Too quiet.Carlo hasn’t moved in over ten minutes. He’s just sitting there, elbows on his knees, staring at the floor like it holds the meaning of life or some shit. He hasn’t said a word since the nurse came in to tell us it was time. He looks calm, but I know he’s not. His jaw’s tight, and every now and then his fingers twitch like he’s fighting the urge to do something. Or maybe just trying not to freak the fuck out.Meanwhile, I’m lying on this hospital bed with a goddamn IV in my arm and all these beeping machines hooked up to me like I’m a science project. I can’t stop fidgeting. My fingers keep twitching. My fucking leg
Chapter 55Blaze“Call Felix.”That’s the first thing I say when Carlo walks back into the room.My voice is low, barely above a whisper, but steady enough. I’m not yelling. Not barking. Just… tired. Fucked up. In too much pain to be angry, too aware of how real this is now.Carlo pauses in the doorway, his eyes on me. I don’t even look at him. I just lie there, staring at the ceiling like it’s got answers written on it.“Please,” I add, because I don’t wanna be a dick to the one person who’s been here through all this. “Just call him.”He doesn’t argue. Doesn’t ask why. He nods once and slips back out the door.I close my eyes. Try to breathe. Try not to feel like everything inside me is splitting open.30 minutes later, the door flies open like someone kicked it in.“Where the fuck is he?!”I know that voice. That voice could wake the dead. Felix storms in like the goddamn apocalypse. And the second his eyes land on me—hooked up to tubes, leg elevated, looking like a fuckin’ corpse—
Blaze“What… What the heck did he say?”I mutter that shit under my breath, eyes still shut, body stiff, pretending like I’m out cold. I hear the doctor’s voice, low and clipped, but every damn word slices through the fog in my head.Infection, my legs got that bad cos the old bastard abandoned me in the most crucial moment.Now, I still need to do the surgery after limping all these years… Fucking amputation? Amputation is certainly not something I want to accept ever.My chest tightens. I don’t move. Don’t twitch. I just lay there like a goddamn corpse while my brain starts spiraling. My leg aches like hell, deep, hot, pulsing pain that’s been eating at me for weeks now. I thought I could handle it. Push through. Like always.But hearing that? That I might lose my fucking leg?No. No, no, no.The memory hits me like a truck. That race. The way my bike skidded, the screaming metal, the crunch when I hit the pavement. The blood. My leg bent at a sick angle. That shit’s branded into m
Carlo“I need to speak with the doctor. Alone.”I say that shit flat, no emotion, just enough edge in my voice that the nurse doesn’t argue. She nods like she understands and walks out of the room. I wait till the door clicks shut, then I drag my hand over my face, grip the back of my neck, and let the silence press down on me.Blaze is asleep—or knocked out, whatever. Still as hell on that damn hospital bed, wires everywhere, his face pale like he’s about to disappear. I hate hospitals. Fucking hate this place. The smell, the beeping, the waiting… the fucking helplessness.He didn’t say shit. Not one fucking word about the pain. Not last night. Not this morning. Not in the car ride when he sat there like a damn stone, jaw clenched, arms folded, refusing to look at me.The door opens again and the doctor steps in. Same one from earlier, tall, mid-40s, glasses that keep sliding down his nose. He looks like he hasn’t slept in a week.“You said you needed to talk?” he asks, pulling out t
Blaze“Carlo! Wait!” I shout as I swing the door open and limp out of my fucking room like some cracked-up one-legged pirate. I don’t even bother checking if I’m fully dressed or if my hair looks like I got in a fight with a fucking lawnmower. I just hear the jingle of his keys and the front door opening, and my dumbass instinct kicks in—I gotta talk to him. Before he leaves. Before I lose my chance.I hate how desperate that sounds. I hate that I’m even chasing after him like this. But fuck it. I don’t care right now. I just need to catch him.My good leg hits the first step, but the other one—the one that’s been screaming in pain for days now—decides it wants to ruin my life today. My foot slips. My knee gives out like a coward, and then everything fucking crashes.I fall. Hard.“FUCK!” I yell as I hit the stairs, slide halfway down, and land like a bag of broken bones. The kind of fall that knocks the breath out of you. My vision goes white for a second. My ears ring. Everything hu
Blaze“Fuck this leg.”That’s the first thing out of my mouth the moment I swing my feet off the damn bed. The ache’s not new, but today? Shit, it bites harder than usual. Feels like someone took a hammer to my thigh while I slept. I try to stand. Bad move. My knee gives a little warning jerk, and I bite my lip to stop myself from yelling.It's been four fucking years. Four years of dealing with this shit and pretending it’s fine. But this morning, I feel it more. It’s like the pain wants to remind me, “Hey, you ain’t healed, dumbass.”I limp into the bathroom, cursing under my breath, holding onto the wall like an old man. When I catch my reflection, I almost laugh. Messy hair, eyes half-dead, lips pressed tight. I look like I fought with a truck and lost.I splash cold water on my face. My leg throbs. I grit my teeth.Carlo’s still asleep in the other room. I can hear his soft breathing. I don’t want to wake him. He’ll fuss, and I’m not in the mood for him acting all worried like I’