Bentley's POV
"What did you do?" Damian asked Mark.

"Nothing, I just picked up a book to read, and he got mad," he lied.

My eyebrows furrowed, disgusted by his lies. First, he took the next book in the series I was reading, claiming he wanted to read it. I agreed and picked a new book from the pile I borrowed. Then Mark came, saying he was reading that one. I picked a second one, and he did the same. I'm on my tenth pick, and he's still saying that.

I got pissed and shouted at him, and he did the same.

I turned to Damian. "He wouldn't let me read any book here. He's technically reading everything in this library," I blurted out.

"Why would you do that?" Damian asked him, but Mark turned away, ignoring him. Damian sighed, rubbing his forehead. "You know what? Pick a novel—a series or stand-alone, any one of your choice," he said, glancing at me.

I nodded, picking the second series I had planned to read from the shelves: a mafia romance containing seven books. We wouldn't have to fight over books for a while.

"Is that all?" he asked, and I nodded. He turned to Mark with a knowing look. "No trouble, got it?"

"Yeah, whatever," Mark mumbled, leaving the room, pouting.

"That's settled" Damian whispered with a sigh, turning to follow him. "Mark, wait," he called, exiting the room.

The thought of Damian running after someone like him annoyed me. He's not worth it at all. A strange feeling of anger and sadness tugged at my heart, weighing it down. Was this what they called jealousy? But I had nothing to be jealous about. I'm not into him. I'm not into men.

I couldn't wait for this weekend to be over so I wouldn't have to see Mark's face daily.

***

I took some aesthetic photos of the series to update on my Instagram. I was halfway through the first book when I walked to the kitchen to get a glass of water.

I paused, picking up the sound of rapid breathing. My body stiffened and my heart skipped some beats. My face was pale in shock at the scene I'd walked into.

Damian and Mark were engaged in a heated kiss on the kitchen counter, their tongues struggling for dominance. Mark's legs were wrapped firmly around Damian's body, while his large hands roamed on Mark's thighs.

Lost in pleasure, they didn't notice my presence. I swallowed hard, cheeks flushed and losing the need to drink water. I tiptoed my way to the stairs unnoticed, heading to my room.

I closed my eyes, forcing myself to sleep to erase what I had seen a few minutes ago, but it kept replaying in my mind. It was traumatizing and disgusting... but why wouldn't my confused brain stop imagining myself in Mark's place? Being touched by him wouldn't even feel that good, since I'm straight.

I gasped, shocked by my own thoughts. "What am I doing?" I snapped myself out of it with a quick slap on the cheek. "What you need is the fastest way out of this house." I grabbed my phone to research top-paying restaurants and applied to the best ones. I knew Damian said he would help, but he had been occupied with stupid Mark these days. I had to help myself.

I managed to fall asleep after that, waking up in the evening. It was a good time to make dinner. I stepped out, about to knock on Damian's door to ask what he'd like to eat.

Hearing some whimpering, I leaned against the door to confirm. My eyes widened at the sound of heavy pounding, the cries getting louder.

I jumped back, my face heating and my heart thumping. "W-What did I just-" I paused, chills running down my spine. "So much force... is he that violent in bed?" I muttered to myself, wide-eyed.

Losing my appetite, I slowly walked back to my room to sleep.

***

They left for a party on Sunday night. It was nice. I made some snacks and lay on my favorite couch as I continued reading the last book in the series.

It was getting late, and I started to worry, so I texted Damian, hoping he was having a good time, and asked when he was going to get home.

I finished my novel and posted it on Instagram. My gaze shifted to the time on my phone. It was 12 a.m., and he still wasn’t back. I dialed his number, but it went to voicemail. He still hadn’t replied to my message, and I didn’t have Mark’s contact.

Panicking, I paced back and forth in the room, random negative thoughts clouding my mind. I had no way to reach them. All I could do was wait, hoping for their safety.

I was thinking of going to the police station when Mark flung open the door, supporting Damian’s waist with a hand. "Phew! That was fun," he grinned.

I rose to my feet, looking at Damian, barely able to stand. His tie was hanging loosely below his first three undone buttons, and the red marks on his shoulders were evidence of what had happened. I hadn’t seen him in this state before.

Gasping, I hurried to them. "I’ve been trying to reach Damian, and why is he this way?" I asked, my voice firm.

"He won a drinking competition! Sadly, he’s a bit tipsy," Mark replied, sighing.

"Are you kidding me? It’s 1 a.m., and Damian has work today. You knew that but kept him out this late?" I snapped.

"We lost track of time," Mark shrugged.

I frowned, anger boiling in me. "And you call yourself his best friend? Pathetic," I shot him a glare, disgust evident in my tone.

"I’ll take it from here," I said, supporting Damian’s waist and placing his hand on my shoulder, holding it with my other hand to prevent it from slipping off. He was quite sturdy and a few inches taller than me, but I managed to take him all the way to his bed.

I dropped him roughly on the bed, panting. "I’ll just sit here to catch my breath," I said, sitting on the soft mattress and folding my legs.

Damian moved nearer, resting his head on my lap and holding my waist with his firm hands. My eyes widened for a second, then I smiled, stroking his silky black hair.

Now that I looked more closely, his face was perfectly sculpted: thick brows, a pointed nose, and pink lips. I grazed my thumb over his lower lip, confirming its softness. He slept so peacefully. For the first time, I didn’t feel scared or disgusted.

"Sleep as much as you want," I whispered, playing with his hair.

Author's note:
Why don't you just admit that you're falling head over heels? Sighs.

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