BY ARIWAYN
He wasn't supposed to come back. And I wasn't supposed to want him.
Synopsis
In a town where everyone knows your name—and your father's legacy—Aiden Hart is the golden boy destined for football greatness, just like everyone expects. He plays the part. He keeps the peace. He smiles for the cameras.
But everything changes when Kieran Monroe returns from juvie with tattoos, secrets, and a dangerous kind of charm that threatens to burn Aiden's perfectly polished life to the ground.
Now, forced to coexist during senior year, Aiden finds himself pulled toward the very boy he was raised to stay away from. The boy who used to sit in the back of the class with his head in a book. The boy he never really noticed until now.
But Kieran didn't come back just to graduate. He's back for revenge. For redemption.
And maybe… for Aiden.
As secrets smolder and small-town gossip ignites, the line between hate and something far more dangerous begins to blur. In a place where reputation is everything, falling for the wrong boy could cost Aiden everything.
"The Boy Who Burned Me" is a slow-burn, angst-heavy, enemies-to-lovers high school romance full of heat, heartbreak, and the kind of tension you'll feel in your chest.
Content Warning
This story contains mature themes including emotional repression, trauma, violence, and toxic family dynamics.
Reader discretion is strongly advised.
Author's Note
This story is for the ones who've ever felt the weight of expectations crushing their chest. For the quiet rebels. For the boys who love in silence. And for anyone who's ever wanted to burn it all down just to feel alive.
Thanks for being here. Let's go burn something.
— Ariwayn
Dedication
To the quiet ones, the dreamers, the kids who never quite fit in—
This is for you. For the ones who felt too much and said too little, who carried secrets like shadows and longed for a spark to light the dark.
You are not alone. You are never alone.
Acknowledgements
Writing this story has been a journey filled with late-night thoughts, emotional rewrites, and more coffee than I care to admit. To everyone who believed in the beauty of broken boys finding light, thank you.
To the readers who stayed up way too late flipping pages, who saw themselves in Aiden or Monroe—this book breathes because of you.
And to my friends, family, and the stories that shaped me—thank you for the chaos, the love, and the inspiration.
You are all part of this story.
Chapter 1
Friday Lights and Father's Eyes
POV: Aiden Hart
The sun crested over Kingswood like a spotlight, golden beams slipping through the mist that always clung to the woods in the early morning. It was game day first of senior year, and the sky looked like it knew it.
I grinned as I pulled up to Kingswood High in my cherry-red Dodge Charger, the kind of car that got nods from teachers and envy from freshmen. Dad gave it to me when I was named team captain last spring, said I earned it. Every time I saw it gleam under the morning sun, I felt like I had.
The school loomed ahead, its brick walls soaked in decades of sweat, secrets, and small-town tradition. The kind of place where the hallways hadn't changed in fifty years and probably never would. My name was already painted on the big "GO WOLVES!" banner stretching over the front entrance, right below the words "Homecoming Countdown: 14 Days."
Tyler leaned against the flagpole, sunglasses on like we weren't already late. As I parked, he gave me a mock salute, his grin wide enough to split his face. "Captain Hart, riding in style."
"Had to make an entrance," I said, grabbing my backpack and slinging it over my shoulder. "Senior year, man. It's happening."
He walked beside me, bumping my shoulder with his. "Think they'll finally let me lead the student section this year?"
"Only if you promise not to moon the other team again."
"No promises," he smirked.
Inside, the halls buzzed with first-day energy. New haircuts, tighter skirts, louder laughs. The cheer squad was already in formation by the lockers, Madison front and center with her perfect blonde curls and that hundred-watt smile she turned on like a switch.
"Morning, babe," she said, planting a kiss on my lips. Her lipstick tasted like cherries. "Your jersey's a little crooked."
I laughed and let her fix it, even though it wasn't. That was Madison, always camera-ready, always making sure I was too. We were the couple everyone expected. Her mom and mine practically planned our wedding before we could drive.
But hey, she was sweet. And beautiful. And she looked great beside me in every photo.
"Tonight's gonna be insane," she said, looping her arm through mine as we walked. "You ready to win this thing?"
"Been ready since July," I grinned. "Coach says scouts from State might be watching."
"You'll kill it," she said like it was obvious. "You're Aiden Hart."
Yeah. Aiden Hart. Son of Mayor Thomas Hart. Starting quarterback. All-American boy. Poster kid for Kingswood.
And I loved it.
I loved the way people looked at me when I scored a touchdown. The way Coach clapped me on the back like I mattered. The way my dad nodded just once from the stands like I was doing something right.
That look was everything.
I still remember the last time I saw it on his face. Caleb's white coat ceremony. The whole town clapped like they were at a coronation. And Dad? He looked like someone had carved pride into his bones.
Someday, I wanted him to look at me like that. Just once.
I shook the thought away as we passed the trophy case, my reflection split between glass and gold.
This year would be it. My year.
"Mr. Hart," called Principal Jenkins from behind his paper-stacked desk. "Don't forget Student Council meets next week."
"I'll be there," I said with a practiced smile.
"Good. Your father called about the mayoral youth speech."
Of course he did.
Madison squeezed my hand. "You're going to ace that, too."
As we walked toward the football field for our welcome-back pep rally, I caught glimpses of the town beyond the chain link fences, Main Street with its rows of old shops, the diner's neon flickering even this early, and the faint outline of the hills where fog still clung to the trees like secrets.
Kingswood was small, but it was home. The kind of place where everyone knew your name and your story… or thought they did.
Out here, reputations were everything.
And mine? Mine had to be perfect.
Because if I got that scholarship… if I made it to State… maybe then Dad would finally say what he never said, that I was more than just a reflection of my brother.
That I was enough.
Tonight was the first game of senior year.
And I was ready to shine.