"Do not dare." Myles hollered at Brayden.

My brother is cracking up with the pride of approaching victory. Both boys are playing an NBA basketball game on Brayden's oculus quest and I am laying on my back on the sofa eating my dessert.

The whole time I only watched. They've been on the same activity since after dinner. And for the second time, Brayden is dominating.

"Oh, Mills, you're maimed."

They chuckled and took off the headset, shaking hands.

"Can I play next?" I chimed into their conversation while setting the plate of my dessert on the coffee table.

"You're a poor player." Brayden contended while they are both looking at me.

"I am not."

"Tell me the one time you aimed perfectly and score?"

"Let's see." My lips pursed as I pretend a calculative expression. "I can't remember because I can't count on my successes."

He chuckles with sarcasm while Myles is standing next to him, smiling tenderly with both hands on his hips.

We had a moment of meaningful eye contact before he turned toward Brayden, suggesting, "A champion doesn't turn down a battle unless you're scared, Bray?"

"Excuse me?" My brother scoffed. His eyes contemplatively shifted between us a couple of times and then he agrees, certitude in his complexion that he going to win.

"Okay."

Myles handed over the headset when I rose to my feet, while Brayden sets up the match. We were standing face to face. He offered to fix the straps around my wrists and I let him. The sensation of his touch on my skin was hypnotizing and cell-igniting as being close to him was.

He smiles breathtakingly. His eyes blazing with affection as he fixes the controllers for me and brings the headset to my head. His chest is near. I could lean in.

"Do not mention I am near." He said, as conspiratorial as a whisper.

"Why?" I mumbled.

He wordlessly smirks and turns my body around. Then the game begins, and I'm doing good because he is holding my hands from behind and navigating me towards good wins. My back eventually made a resting wall with his muscular torso, and despite the commentary report in my ears from the visual reality game, I gave attention to his heart pulsating from the contact of our bodies. And then I feel the tingling contact of hair in the nook of my neck and a soft kiss on the skin there. I stiffened. My breathing stops at that instant, with goosebumps bulging all over my body. And then he did it again. This time it is warm and slightly wet. I let out a heavy breath without caring I'm fully resting on him, given I am dealing with a foreign feeling in the lower region of my stomach. I can feel my pantie getting sticky, and the violent rising and falling of my heart.

"Fuck." Brayden cussed.

Shit, the game is over.

I frighteningly took off the headset to confirm the reason behind the swear. But when I turn over with horror in my eyes, Myles is sitting on the sofa, staring at the game results on the tv that claims I had eight wins ahead of Brayden.

How?

Did I imagine everything?

"How?" Brayden's eyes distantly analyzed my blushed face. I look away from his skeptical observation but while passing, my eyes glimpse at my chest, and shit, my nipples are puckering beneath the oversize shirt I am wearing.

Could I embarrass myself any further?

I yank the straps of the controllers around my wrists and toss the devices toward Myles. He is beaming when my eyes meet his. His set of teeth is so perfect and clean while my stupid hormones are so embarrassing and provide him with a reason to show them off.

No one ever turned me on. No one cared. I never had to go through this mortification until now. I didn't know how to handle a man watching me in this situation. So I pinch the fabric with my fingers and stop it from clinging to my skin and then rush down the archway to my bedroom.

Brayden question was audible when he asked his friend if my reaction was normal. I halted by the door and listened to Myles's reply.

"I think it's normal. Women think differently." He said.

"Suddenly you're an expert on women because you're engaged." Brayden teased him and a quiet as gloaming as my inside passes through.

At the reminder, I feel a fist clenching my heart until it is soul-racking.

"I mean, she won. She should cheer." My brother worriedly complained as warm liquid dropped from my blurry vision.

What was I thinking? Falling in love with someone I can never have?

~

I had crawled under the bed on a carpet with a blanket and my diary. The cover used to be a bright red, but now it is frayed as it is slowly withering.

There were pictures of Chloe and me in the earlier pages from different grades when we were ultimately convinced our friendship was enough for us. We wore various costumes for Halloween and watched multiple basketball games from those from school competitions while sitting at a distance from everyone.

My phone buzzed. The screen brightens up. I set the diary down and check the notification on my phone.

Scarlett Maverick followed you back.

My forehead wrinkled. I swipe into Instagram when another notification came through. It is a message from the same account.

Tapping into the message, I find Brayden's post shared to my inbox and a caption reading, "Which among them would you get here for me after summer break?"

It is a picture of the three of us David had snapped before we flew to Florida.

She has to be kidding me.

Ping...

"Do you hear me? Or don't you know how to type? That will be pathetic for an account with almost forty thousand followers."

"Myles is engaged." I quickly responded.

She's typing...

"So he really is handsome without a brain? Heard he gave her a ring three weeks after they met."

Yes, that was very dumb. The terror crawled under my skin like bugs, but she doesn't get to talk about him like that.

Provocatively, I typed and send, "Do not judge him."

An audio message came through. I tap to play, and in her narcissistic and blood-curdling voice, she waves off, "Whatever, what a loss. Get working on your brother for me. I did some research, all sources say he's single. Succeed, and I might consider getting you on the squad for senior year. Don't text me back unless it is progress."

She terminated the conversation, expecting unquestioning obedience, and sadly, I was going to oblige.

Offers like that only come once in a lifetime.

I crawl back out of the confined space and sprint down the hall to Brayden's bedroom. It is almost one in the night, perhaps morning. His eyes stuck out when I thrust my head into the room. He had immediately turned on the nightstand lamp and had propped up on his elbows.

"Hey?" His eyes quizzically studied me.

Seeing he is awake, I close the door after me and rush over to his bed, climbing onto it.

"You have to do me a favor."

"At this time of the night?" His eyes shrank, questionably.

"You know that girl from my school that I told you about?"

"The one the other day you mistakenly followed?"

I nod, and his face softens.

"Okay?"

"She followed back."

A smile instantly glows on his face.

"She must be an idiot not to."

"I mean, she's quite loved in the community. She has over five thousand followers." I timidly muttered, and Brayden's brows snapped together.

He snatches his phone from the nightstand and logs into his Instagram.

"What are you doing?" I unintelligently questioned.

"Come."

He didn't wait for me to reply; he push up and sat well. Before I know his intentions, he snaps a picture of us.

"Don't post that. I must look terrible." I oppose promptly and advance for the device, but he is quick to take it out of my reach.

"You look naturally cute and too good for the internet." He claimed. "I tagged you."

"Why?"

"We are working on your followers. I don't even know why you worried about a five thousand followers' account when you have forty." He complains with his head downward, facing the screen. It is clear he doesn't see the damage he had just done.

"You have no idea. I don't have makeup. I am just wearing a plain t-shirt. You do not know what it is for me to come out this way. Unlike you, I do not have the privilege to snap a shirtless picture with utter topsy-turvy hair."

He looks up halfway through my outburst. I am chewing my inner cheeks to relieve the emotional pain.

"I can take it off, Cali. But just so you know, you have every privilege to do whatever your want. Not snap a shirtless picture though, but do you want reality? You're goddamn beautiful. It saddens me that until now you couldn't catch the sight of yourself in the mirror."

Of course, he would say that. Mom, dad, and Chloe had always said that while the rest of the world disagreed.

Swallowing, I breathed through my mouth.

"Please take it down," I whispered, and there was an awkward silence immediately.

A few seconds later, he informs me it was done. I thanked him and climb down from the bed.

His eyes follow me.

"You wanted to ask me something?" He questioned.

I am having a silent panic attack. I just need to be alone. To breathe and to have my diary close by.

"I have forgotten." I lied miserably. "I will let you know when I remember."

With that, I left him alone in confusion and carried myself with agony through the quiet of the dead of night.