I spiked my nemesis’s drink, hoping to see him make a fool of himself. The moment I turned around, he caught me. But instead of getting angry, a slow smile spread across his face as he picked up the glass and downed it in one go. I could only stare, frozen, as he began to unbutton his shirt with deliberate slowness, his voice a low, lazy drawl. “You’d better run now… before it’s too late.” 1 The high school reunion was in full swing, the private room buzzing with energy and laughter. But when Julian Trammell walked in, the atmosphere hit a fever pitch. Of course it did. The guy was a legend, always at the top of the class, the undisputed king of our high school. Our eyes met across the crowded room, his dark and unreadable. It was the first time I’d seen him since graduation. I watched as a swarm of girls flocked to him, their attention bordering on predatory. With a quiet scoff, I knocked back my drink. My old desk mate, Mark, nudged me. “Andy, I thought you couldn’t stand the guy. How come you’re so quiet now?” “I still can’t stand him,” I muttered. It wasn’t just that my mom paraded him around as the gold standard of academic achievement. The real problem started when he transferred into our advanced placement track. Overnight, my dating prospects evaporated. Mark leaned in, his voice a conspiratorial whisper, and slid a small packet into my hand. “So… wanna mess with him a little?” The alcohol had already gone to my head. I looked down at the small pills in my palm and thought, Yeah, that bastard needs to be knocked off his high horse. I slipped away to the back lounge where I’d stashed a bottle of expensive wine I’d brought to share. Hmph. Guess he’s getting the good stuff. The deep red liquid swirled in the glass. A tiny white pill dropped in, dissolving almost instantly. I hesitated for a second, then added two more for good measure. Let’s see what those girls think when they see the real Mr. Perfect. 2 I swirled the wine one last time. Behind me, the lock clicked shut. I whipped around to find Julian leaning against the doorframe, a smirk playing on his lips. “There you are, Andy. I was looking for you.” “What for?” I asked, my heart starting to pound. “To catch up, of course.” His voice was as smooth as ever, but there was an undercurrent of something sharp, something… displeased. His gaze dropped to the packet in my hand. I shoved it into my pocket, but it was too late. A low chuckle escaped his lips. “Planning on spiking my drink? No need to be so shy about it.” “…” Damn it. My brilliant plan, busted before it even began. Julian took a step forward, plucked the glass from my hand, and drained it. I just stood there, my hand still hanging in mid-air, completely stunned. This was not part of the plan. “Julian, are you insane? Do you even know what that was?” “I have an idea,” he said, his eyes lifting to meet mine. There was a flicker of something wicked in their depths, something I’d only seen glimpses of before. He smiled, a slow, dangerous curve of his lips. “Aren't you going to run?” “Any longer, and it’ll be too late.” “…” My eyes went wide. I lunged for the door, twisting the handle frantically. Nothing. It was locked from the inside. Son of a bitch. I spun back around. Julian was slowly, methodically, unfastening the buttons of his shirt as if the room had suddenly become too warm. “Julian, where’s the key?” He just smiled and started walking toward me, his steps unhurried. My back hit the cold wood of the door, and a bead of sweat trickled down my spine. Oh god, I’d put in extra. “The key…” he murmured, closing the distance between us. He took my hand. I thought he was going to give it to me, but instead, he guided my palm to his chest, resting it just above his collarbone. The skin there was already burning up. He slowly dragged my hand downward, over the hard plane of his pectoral muscle. My ears burned. I tried to pull away, but his grip was firm, guiding me lower… …and lower, until my fingers brushed against the waistband of his jeans. He pressed my body flat against the door, his breath coming in ragged pants. “It’s right here,” he rasped, his voice thick. “If you’ve got the guts, come and get it yourself.” Shameless bastard! Before I could even process the words, his mouth was on mine. It wasn’t a kiss; it was a conquest. My world tilted, my mind short-circuiting. I tried to push him away, but he pinned me easily. Wasn’t Julian a pre-med? Where the hell did he get this kind of strength? The lights of the lounge seemed to blur and spin. The next thing I knew, he had me sitting on the wide windowsill, his body pressing me back against the cool glass. He bit down on my shoulder. “Ow!” His breath was hot against my ear, but his voice was chillingly cool. “You deserve this, Andy.” His words were a low growl. “Didn’t we promise to go to the same university? You’re the one who broke your word first.” … 3 Through the haze of the night, only one thing was crystal clear: he’d played me. There was no key. Not there. That son of a bitch. At least the expensive wine didn’t go to waste. Last night, Julian, his face flushed a deep crimson, had put that bottle to very creative use. I had no idea where he’d learned some of those moves. When I woke up, I staggered out of bed, my legs shaky as I gathered my scattered clothes. Julian was propped up on one elbow, casually watching my pathetic state with an amused glint in his eyes. “You know, Andy, seeing you like this makes me want to start all over again.” “Shut up!” You goddamn hypocrite. I was convinced he’d planned this whole thing just to mess with me. My legs were so weak I could barely stand, my hands trembling as I tried to button my shirt. A pair of warm arms wrapped around me from behind. He steadied me, his fingers slowly doing up the buttons I was fumbling with. “So, Andy,” he murmured into my ear, “how does it feel to get a taste of your own medicine?” “…” Just three little pills, and I was almost broken. “That stuff you got is pretty effective. Maybe you could give me some more?” “Julian, are you a fucking sadist?” “I just thought this was the kind of game you liked to play.” He chuckled, brushing a stray strand of hair from my face, his tone dripping with a playful cruelty that made my skin crawl. I shoved him away, my face a cold mask. “I was drunk last night. If you dare tell a soul about this, I’ll kill you.” 4 The truth is, deep down, I’ve always been a little afraid of Julian. To everyone else, he was the picture of a perfect student—refined, brilliant, and polite. But I’d seen the other side of him. I’d seen him corner a stray cat once, his expression anything but kind. And I’d seen him fight. His own father, drunk and belligerent, had said something to set him off. The way Julian hit him was terrifyingly methodical, each blow harder than the last. The sheer violence in his eyes was a fury I had never witnessed in anyone before. If a security guard hadn't intervened, I think he might have actually killed him. His face was splattered with blood, but his gaze found me hiding around the corner with chilling accuracy. He offered me a small, bloody smile. “Enjoying the show?” I ran. I ran and didn’t look back. I never told anyone what I saw. Over time, it became this unspoken, twisted secret between us. Sometimes, when adults were praising him, he’d shoot me a look over their shoulders—a warm, polite smile for them, and a mischievous, taunting arch of his eyebrow just for me. “Andy’s grades are excellent too,” he’d say once, his voice smooth as silk. “Why don’t you apply to Kingston with me?” “…” Like hell I would. 5 I blocked Julian’s number. After a week of successfully avoiding him, I found him sitting in my living room. It was my mom’s birthday at the end of July, and his mother had brought him along to drop off a gift. He gave me a subtle smile, rubbing his thumb and forefinger together in a gesture that was just for me. I stiffened, looking away. The marks he’d left on my body hadn’t even fully faded. I tried to escape to my room, but my mom stopped me. “Don’t just hide in your room playing video games all day. Julian’s here. You two should talk. He’s a top student at Kingston University now, you know.” “Big deal,” I mumbled. It wasn’t that I couldn’t get into Kingston; I’d deliberately chosen Lanton University instead. She forced me to sit on the couch next to him. The moment he shifted slightly, I shot up like a rocket, knocking over a pitcher of water on the coffee table. Julian glanced at me, a lazy, knowing look in his eyes. “So clumsy.” He spoke softly, grabbing a napkin to dab at my jeans. To our parents, he was the perfect, helpful friend. But his fingers pressed down right over a spot that was still tender, a faint bruise he himself had left. A dull ache shot through me, awakening memories I’d been trying to bury. I slapped his hand away. “Don’t touch me.” My mom shot me a glare, mortified by my rudeness. “Andy, Julian is our guest. Can you please be civil? Here,” she said, pulling out two tickets. “My work gave me these. They’re for a movie you young people would like. You and Julian should go.” No way in hell. I didn’t move, but Julian graciously accepted them. “Thank you, Auntie.” 6 That night, I escaped to a bar with my best friend, Jimmi. Being cooped up at home listening to my mom’s lectures was driving me crazy. Jimmi is gay. A total bottom. After every breakup, he dramatically swears off dating and begs me to be his top. But I’m not gay, and I keep telling him to stop dreaming. “I called you a few days ago. Why didn’t you pick up? You’ve been acting weirdly secretive. Don’t tell me you got a boyfriend behind my back,” he said, his eyes narrowing suspiciously. I quickly clinked my glass against his, changing the subject. “Nah, you know my mom. If I go out too much, I’ll never hear the end of it.” The real reason was that the marks on my body were still visible. I needed a few more days for them to fade. Jimmi’s eyes scanned the crowd, hunting for his next handsome target. I watched his animated profile and found myself wondering: How could Julian be gay? He had girls falling all over him. Hadn’t a single one caught his interest? Jimmi suddenly turned back to me. “Why are you staring at me like that? Andy, you’re being extra weird tonight. You don’t have a crush on me, do you?” “Get lost. I’m not into that.” “I mean, for you, I could make an exception and top.” “…” A power bottom? The mental image was too horrifying to contemplate. My phone lit up on the table. An unknown number. I answered it, but the line was silent. Thinking the bar was too loud, I stepped outside. “Hello? Who is this?” “Why weren’t you at the theater? I waited for a long time.” “…” That cool, measured voice sent a shiver down my spine. “I never said I was going. Stop bothering me.” I hung up, irritated. When I looked up, I saw him standing across the street. Julian. Dressed in a black button-down, he stood so still he almost blended into the night. My heart leaped into my throat as he started walking towards me. I tried to duck back into the bar, but he caught my arm before I could make it. “This is the second time you’ve lied to me, Andy.” His voice was calm, but the undercurrent of fury was terrifying. “What are you talking about? I never made any plans with you. That was all in your head.” I struggled against his grip, but his warm fingers clamped down on the back of my neck. He dragged me into a nearby alley, his gaze intense, lost in his own twisted logic. “Now, let’s see… how should I punish you this time?” 7 My heart hammered against my ribs as Julian pinned me against the cold brick wall. “Let me go!” I kicked, I punched, I swore at him, but he didn’t react. He just watched me with a disturbing, detached interest, as if observing a cornered animal in its final, desperate struggle. When I was exhausted, he calmly reached out to smooth my messy hair. “Don’t touch me, you psycho.” “Well, since you’ve already labeled me,” he murmured, his eyes darkening, “I might as well live up to it.” “…” Seeing that look, I was genuinely scared. Julian’s smile was a chilling curve in the dim light. “Andy, look up.” The next second, his teeth sank into the side of my neck. It wasn't a gentle bite. He held me tight, giving me no room to escape. My eyes welled up with tears of pain, my fingers digging into his arms. “What the hell are you doing? Are you a dog?” “Just leaving a little mark,” he whispered against my skin, “to make sure you don’t go straying.” “You… ow! Lighter!” I threw a punch, but he caught my wrist easily. He kissed the spot on my neck, his hot breath traveling up to the corner of my mouth. Even in the gloom of the alley, a stray beam of light caught the sharp, perfect lines of his face. If his eyes weren’t filled with such unnerving darkness, I might have actually admired the view. Footsteps echoed from the end of the alley. “Andy? Andy! Where the hell are you?” It was Jimmi. He heard the scuffling and took a few steps closer. My eyes flew open in panic. I aimed a kick at Julian’s shin. “Let go!” “And if I don’t?” Julian’s expression hardened at the sound of Jimmi’s voice. His entire demeanor shifted into something colder, more dangerous. I couldn’t bear the thought of Jimmi finding out about this—about me being tangled up with another guy. With his big mouth, the entire school would think I was gay by morning. “Please, just stop…” I begged, my voice barely a whisper, trembling. Seeing the raw fear in my eyes seemed to please him. A slow smile spread across his face, like he’d just won a prize. He ducked his head, his hand cupping the back of my neck. “If you don’t want him to find out,” he murmured, “don’t move.” His lips crashed down on mine, warm but anything but gentle. It was a frantic, possessive kiss that felt like being devoured by a predator. His tall frame completely shielded me from view. Jimmi glanced down the alley, probably mistook us for some random couple making out, and quickly turned away. Even after he was gone, Julian didn’t let me go. His fingers toyed with the nape of my neck, his other hand roaming my waist. A wave of heat washed over me. I bit his lip, hard. He finally pulled back. I gasped for air and tried to bolt back to the bar, but his arm snaked around my waist, holding me fast. “The punishment isn’t over. You’re not going anywhere.” “…” He dragged me, protesting, all the way downtown. We walked down a street lined with the flashing neon signs of a dozen different hotels. A cold dread washed over me. He wasn’t thinking of… that again, was he? “I can’t walk anymore. I’m tired,” I said, digging my heels in. He just chuckled. “Want me to carry you?” “No.” Julian pulled me around a corner and into a movie theater. I saw the giant screen and let out a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding. Since I’d skipped our “date,” he’d bought tickets for the last showing and was determined to make me watch it with him. It was some artsy film I couldn’t get into. Halfway through, I fell asleep. In my drowsy state, I felt the person beside me wrap a possessive arm around my shoulders, pulling me close. 8 Julian left a deep, angry mark on my neck. There was no way I could go out like that, so I was forced to hide at home. It took two full weeks for all the marks on my neck and body to finally disappear. The moment they did, I dragged Jimmi to the riverbank. When we were kids, we used to buy firecrackers and try to stun fish in the river after school. Now, the city was stricter, so we settled for grilling skewers and setting off fireworks by the water at night. The riverbank was lively, filled with students on summer break and families camping out. Jimmi lit a sparkler and demanded I take artsy, influencer-style photos of him. I have zero talent for photography; the pictures came out so bad he chased me halfway down the bank. “Andy, you made me look like a ghost! You think you can just run away? Get back here! You’re not going home until you get a decent shot!” We were fooling around when I turned and bumped squarely into someone. I started to apologize, then looked up and saw that infuriatingly handsome, smug face. My playful mood vanished instantly. Julian raised an eyebrow. “What’s wrong? Not happy to see me?” “What are you doing here?” I took a step back, instinctively putting distance between us. “Your mom told me you were here. I came to check on you.” The moment Jimmi saw a handsome face, he was all over him. “Hey there!” Julian gave him a curt nod, maintaining his usual polite and reserved facade. I shot Jimmi a series of desperate, warning looks from the side, but he was completely oblivious, charmed by Julian’s good looks. He even tried to drag him into our games. I lost all interest and went back to grilling chicken wings by myself. A little while later, Jimmi walked off to take a call, and Julian came and sat down next to me. “When are you going to unblock me?” “Maybe in the next life.” “…” He let out a soft laugh, took one of the skewers, and bit into a wing. After a moment of silence, he took the rest of the food from my hands. “Here, let me.” His hands were elegant, his movements precise and unhurried. As I watched him, so calm and confident, I couldn’t help but think about all the times our parents had compared us. It was so damn annoying. 9 Jimmi dragged me off to light more fireworks, whispering questions about Julian. “Is he into guys or girls? How could you have a friend this hot and not tell me?” “He’s the guy I was complaining about, the one who always beat me into second place. Still think he’s so hot now?” “…” Jimmi snuck a glance back at Julian, then lowered his voice. “Honestly? I can see why you lost.” “You little traitor!” I raised my fist to playfully punch him. He dodged and ran into the crowd, and I took off after him. A little kid nearby was playing with a Roman candle, not paying attention to where he was aiming it. As I ran past, the tube swiveled directly towards my face. A flash of fire, a brilliant, terrifying spark. Before I could even register what was happening, a strong arm wrapped around me, pulling me back as a body shielded me from the front. BANG. The firework discharged directly into Julian’s back. I was enveloped in his clean, familiar scent, my mind a complete blank. “Are you okay?” Julian’s voice was steady as he checked me over, then shot a sharp look at the kid. Before he could say a word, the child burst into tears and quickly pointed the firework at an empty patch of ground. The danger had passed. I tried to push him away, but he leaned his weight against my shoulder. “Ow, that hurts,” he murmured. “Let’s just stay like this for a minute.” “Stop faking it. Stand up.” “I just saved your life, Andy. You’re going to have to repay me for that.” The way he drew out the word “repay” was heavy with insinuation, his breath warm against my ear. “Cut it out.” I gave him another shove and my hand came away sticky. The thin fabric of his shirt had been blasted open, and his back was burned. “Julian, I’m taking you to the hospital.” 10 We spent half the night at the hospital getting Julian’s wound cleaned and bandaged. When my mom found out, she lectured me endlessly. “Julian comes from a single-parent home. His mother works so hard, and now she has to take time off to care for him. You’ve just made things more difficult for her.” “How was I supposed to know this would happen?” I mumbled, picking at the food in my bowl. I felt a pang of guilt. When I dropped Julian off last night, his apartment was dark and empty. It felt… lonely. My mom sighed, then handed me a thermos of pork rib soup. “Take this to him.” I didn’t want to go, but I took the thermos and went anyway. … The door opened, and I was greeted by a wall of well-defined muscle. Even though I’d seen it before, it still made me uncomfortable. I averted my eyes. “Why aren’t you wearing a shirt?” “My back hurts. Clothes irritate it.” He sounded weak, almost pitiful. I stepped inside and opened the thermos, telling him to drink the soup. He took a sip, then looked at me, a slow smile spreading across his face. “Is this your idea of repayment?” “I guess.” After all, he did get hurt saving me. If he hadn’t been there, that firework could have hit my face. “A bowl of soup isn’t nearly enough.” His long fingers stirred the broth, his dark eyes fixed on me. That look always gave me a bad feeling. “Just drink it. I have to get home.” “What’s the rush? You can help me change my bandages later.” “Go to the clinic for that.” “It’s too hot out. I don’t want to go.” I was speechless. After he finished the soup, Julian led me to his bedroom. The room was immaculate, his shelves packed with textbooks and research papers. In a corner under his desk were towering stacks of used scratch paper. So, the top student wasn’t just a genius; he put in more effort than anyone ever saw. The resentment I’d held onto for so long suddenly deflated. He lay face down on the bed and arched an eyebrow at me. “The medicine is on the table.” “…” He was, without a doubt, the most shameless person I had ever met. I sat on the edge of the bed and started to apply the ointment. The muscles of his back were sleek and powerful, clearly the result of regular workouts. It should have been a completely clinical situation, but my mind kept flashing back to… other situations. My ears started to burn. My hand accidentally brushed against the base of his spine. He let out a low groan. He looked over his shoulder, his voice raspy. “Are you doing that on purpose?” “What?” Before I could decipher the dangerous glint in his eyes, he yanked me forward. He trapped me in his arms, his voice a low, lazy drawl. “In a place as dangerous as a bed, Andy, I’m easily provoked.” “Who’s trying to provoke you? Let me go!” I pushed against him with some force. “Julian, if you don’t want to injure yourself again, you’d better let go of me right now.” He stared back, unfazed, and easily pinned my wrists to the pillow above my head. The sheer pressure of his presence was suffocating. Dammit. I knew I shouldn’t have come. His fingers traced a path up my neck, a gentle, possessive caress. I trembled, feeling like a fish on a cutting board. “The marks are gone…” he murmured, then leaned in and bit down. Right on the same spot. If he left another mark, how was I supposed to face anyone? I struggled desperately. “Julian, you psycho, let me go!” “Stop biting, it hurts!” I winced, wishing I could kick the damn dog off me. He pulled back to admire the fresh red mark on my neck and smiled with satisfaction. “There. We’ll call that repayment.” “You’re sick.” I glared at him, the pain bringing tears to my eyes. He gently pinched my earlobe, his lips brushing against the corner of my eye. “Keep looking at me like that, and I’ll want more than just this.” “…” I squeezed my eyes shut, forcing the tears back. But his kisses continued, soft and insistent, until they finally found my lips.
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