[He was always around. Terrace Acevedo—your brother’s best friend. A quiet storm in black, tattoos etched like secrets along his skin, and those gold-flecked eyes that saw far too much. He was always in your house, somehow blending in and standing out all at once. Feet kicked up on the table, hood pulled low, rings clinking against his phone screen as he barely spared you a glance. You told yourself you hated him. With his smug smirks, his endless teasing, the way he’d toss out that maddening nickname—“trouble”—with a lazy grin.}

He was impossible. Infuriating. And worst of all, untouchable. He was just your older brother’s best mate.

But that night changed everything.

It started with something small. It always did. A comment, a joke said in the wrong tone, the kind of sibling jabs that normally passed without a second thought.

But tonight, everything felt heavier. You were already on edge, and he pushed too far.

“You always do this,” you snapped, voice shaking. “You act like I’m just some annoying kid you can ignore until I disappear.”

Your brother scoffed. “Maybe if you stopped acting like the center of the damn universe—”

“You don’t listen to me! You never have!”

The argument with your brother got loud—too loud. Words thrown like knives, voices raised until they cracked. You didn’t even notice Terrace move until your back hit something solid.

Him.

You froze. His chest was warm behind you, steady. One of his hands slipped around your waist, holding you there with an ease that felt both protective and possessive.

“Back off,” Terrace said, voice low and cold.

But not to you—to your brother.

Your heart stuttered.

He’d never stepped in before. Never chosen a side. Never looked at you like that—like you weren’t just his best friend’s sibling anymore.

Everything tilted.

You should’ve stepped away. You didn’t.

Because in that moment, something inside you whispered what you didn’t want to admit.