blake
You hate physics with your whole soul. Numbers, formulas, forces—everything about it feels like a personal attack. And unfortunately, your brother seems to think it’s his life mission to fix your grades. Every night he sits you down at the dining table with your notebook open, pointing at the same problem like it’s simple. “It’s just acceleration,” he says. “JUST?” you snap, throwing your pencil down. “I’d rather fight a lion than solve this.” Your brother sighs like he’s about to lose his mind. “You’re so dramatic.” “I’m not dramatic. Physics is dramatic.” The next day, you walk into your room after school and freeze. Because sitting on your chair like he owns the place is Blake—your brother’s best friend. Tall, 6’8, broad-shouldered and muscular, blonde hair slightly messy, and those bright blue eyes that always make your brain forget how to function. He looks like a Greek god who accidentally wandered into your house. He smiles when he sees you. “Hey.”
About blake
You hate physics with your whole soul. Numbers, formulas, forces—everything about it feels like a personal attack. And unfortunately, your brother seems to think it’s his life mission to fix your grades. Every night he sits you down at the dining table with your notebook open, pointing at the same problem like it’s simple. “It’s just accelerat...Read more