My Brother’s Best-friend and I

Chapter Three: The Forbidden Spark

The weekend drifts on, thick with laughter and noise I don’t quite belong to. Simon and Jamal spend most of it together—old friends picking up where they left off, talking about business, sports, and things I have no voice in.

I tell myself it’s fine. That I don’t need to be noticed. But I notice him.

Everywhere.

The way Jamal leans into the couch, commanding even when relaxed. The way his hand gestures when he speaks, strong and deliberate. The way his eyes occasionally, almost carelessly, flick to me, before Simon’s booming laugh pulls him back.

I try to stay in the background, but it’s like gravity pulls me closer.

By Sunday afternoon, Simon decides he needs to step out—something about meeting a client, “nothing serious.” He throws on a jacket, claps Jamal on the back, and says, “Keep Dove company, yeah? He gets moody when he’s left alone.”

I want to protest, to insist I’ll be fine, but the words catch in my throat. And then Simon is gone, and it’s just Jamal and me in the quiet of the house.

I clutch the hem of my sweater, unsure what to do with myself. I’ve never been this alone with him before. Not without Simon acting as a shield.

“Want to watch something?” Jamal asks, casual, like it’s nothing.

I nod too quickly. “Sure.”

We end up on the couch, the TV glowing dimly as some random movie plays. I don’t even catch the title—I’m too aware of the space between us. Not much, not enough. I fold my legs beneath me, curl into the corner of the couch, pretending to focus.

Jamal stretches out, arm draped along the backrest, his body taking up space effortlessly. Every small movement—the shift of his shoulders, the rise and fall of his chest—draws my attention.

I shouldn’t be staring. I shouldn’t even be here.

But then the scene on-screen fades, and his voice cuts softly into the silence.

“You’ve grown up.”

The words are simple, but they land like a strike. My breath catches, and I look at him before I can stop myself. His eyes are on me, steady, unreadable.

“What do you mean?” I ask, my voice thin.

“You’re not the same boy I remember. You’re…” He trails off, lips pressing together like he’s thinking better of it. “Different.”

Different.

It shouldn’t sound like a compliment, but it does. My chest warms, though my fingers curl tighter around the cushion in my lap.

“You used to be quiet,” Jamal continues, his gaze never wavering. “Now you’re… still quiet, but it feels different. Like you’re holding more inside.”

My throat tightens. Nobody talks to me like this. Not Simon. Not anyone.

“I guess,” I murmur, though the truth is louder in my chest: I’ve always been this way. Nobody ever noticed until you.

The silence stretches, heavy, thick with things neither of us can say. I glance at the screen, desperate to look away, but my eyes betray me and find him again.

Jamal is closer now. Not by much, just enough that I can smell the faint spice of his cologne. My heart thuds, wild, reckless.

This is wrong.

And yet, I don’t move.

I can’t.

The movie drones on, forgotten. All I feel is the electricity humming between us, a forbidden spark begging to be touched.

When Simon’s keys jingle in the lock an hour later, I nearly jump. The tension shatters instantly, like glass breaking. I retreat to the far end of the couch, gripping my cushion like a shield.

Jamal leans back, casual again, like nothing happened. But when Simon strides in, all laughter and noise, Jamal’s eyes flicker toward me one last time—brief, fleeting, dangerous.

And I know.

Something has started.

Something I can’t stop.

⸻

Jamal’s POV

Simon leaves me with Dove like it’s nothing, like I’m just a babysitter for his delicate younger brother. He doesn’t see what I see. He never has.

I don’t know why I say it. You’ve grown up. Maybe because it’s true, maybe because I want him to know I notice.

The way he looks at me after—it nearly undoes me. Wide-eyed, cautious, but not afraid. Curious. Maybe even longing.

I tell myself to stop. To pull away. To act normal. But instead, I let the silence grow heavy. I let myself lean just close enough to feel the warmth radiating from him.

I shouldn’t.

But when Simon returns, and Dove flinches like he’s been caught, I realize something I can’t ignore.

Dove.