Novels by author.davinam

Viana's pov I couldn’t believe I had actually wanted to kiss Alvin. Me. Kissing Alvin. The thought alone made my skin burn and my brain short-circuit. What was wrong with me. Maybe I hit my head somewhere this week. Maybe I was sleep deprived. Maybe I had finally lost the last pieces of my sanity. Because nothing else explained the weird flutter in my stomach when he looked at me, or how my breath caught when his face got dangerously close to mine. He’s your soon-to-be stepbrother, Viana. And the biggest headache you’ve ever met. I groaned into my pillow before tossing it across the room. My heart had been racing on and off all day from replaying everything. The tension. The almost. The way he looked at me like he wanted to say something and didn’t. I needed a distraction. Something cold to drink. A cup of juice. Something simple and normal that didn’t involve the memory of Alvin’s hands or his eyes or… him in general. I s

Viana's pov.A hush fell over the room, all the other girls pretending not to watch but clearly waiting for my reaction.I forced myself to shut my locker with a sharp click, keeping my face calm. “Good thing I know how to draw lines, then.”Her smile faltered for a beat, then returned sharper. “We’ll see.”I walked out before I said something I’d regret.*******By the time I slid into my literature class, I was still simmering. The universe must have had a twisted sense of humor, because the professor announced group projects—partners assigned at random. My partner? Alvin Monroe.Of course.He strolled in five minutes late, hockey bag slung over one shoulder like he owned the place. When he dropped into the chair next to me, I could practically hear the collective sighs of half the class.“Looks like we’re partners, step-sis,” he murmured, lips curving into that infuriating smirk.“Don’t call me that.” I shot him a glare.“What? You don’t like labels?” He leaned back, stretching his

Viana's pov.He turned to me, eyes blazing. “What the hell are you doing here?” I folded my arms, my own anger flaring to meet his. “Watching practice. My friend Emily invited me.” I emphasized the words, asserting my independence from him. His eyes flicked to where the guys had been, then back to me. “You don’t know how they are. Stay away from them. I won't say this again.” “You don’t get to tell me where I can or can’t stand. You don’t own me, the rink or the school. And I can talk to whoever I want to.” For a moment, we were nose to nose, our breath fogging together in the cold air, the tension so thick it made my pulse shake. Then he shook his head, muttering something that sounded like, “Stubborn,” before adding louder, “You’ll learn.” He then skated off, leaving me rooted to the spot, my heart beating for all the wrong reasons.Emily let out a low whistle. “Well. That was… intensely protective. And extremely terrifying.” “It wasn’t protective, it was possessive,” I corr

Viana's povIt was Emily, a friendly, amused glint in her eyes. She’d not only pointed me in the right direction but had walked me to my class, chatting easily the whole way about the best coffee on campus, which professors to avoid, and the unspoken rule of never wearing the school’s red color on game day unless you wanted to be spontaneously drafted onto a cheerleading squad.That five-minute walk had blossomed into a full-blown campus tour and then a coffee run. By the end of the day, she’d decided we were friends, and I was too grateful to argue. “So,” she said now, stealing a tomato from my salad even though she had a boatload of food right in front of her. “How’s life with the chosen one treating you? I heard the walls in your house are vibrating with divine energy this morning.”I groaned, dropping my forehead to the table. “You heard that?” “Honey, everyone on this side of campus heard that, well at least some of us. The news hasn't reached the rest of the masses cause if it

Viana's POV Mom pressed a hand to her temple, sighing. “Please, just… try to give this a chance. For me.” I hated that she said it like that. Like I was the bad guy for not jumping with joy over suddenly sharing a roof with the campus playboy. Alvin reached for the chicken, spearing a piece like he hadn’t just detonated my entire life. “Don’t worry, sis,” he said around a mouthful. “I’ll try to keep the noise down when my fans stop by.” I snapped. “Don’t call me that.” His grin widened. “What? Sis? It fits.” My stomach twisted. This year was supposed to be simple. Stay focused, keep my scholarship and avoid all distractions. But trouble had just unpacked his duffel bag in my hallway, and he lived across from my bedroom. And his name was Alvin Monroe. The fuck!!! The first thing I heard that morning was bass thumping through my wall. Not the gentle kind of background noise you could drown out, no, this was rattling my desk lamp, shaking the glass of water on my nightstand loud

Viana's POV I closed my locker softly, tracing my fingers along the frame one last time. That memory was the reason I didn’t waste time on distractions, why I stayed focused even when the world tried to shove boys like Alvin Monroe into my orbit. Death had taught me something school couldn’t: every second mattered. And maybe that was why, deep down, I was grateful Mom and I had left our old town behind. A fresh start, a transfer, a chance to rebuild without shadows trailing us. A new place with new rules and less chances of any form of mistakes. At least, that was the plan but unfortunately it went badly fast. ********* I should’ve known something was up the moment Mom lit candles at the dinner table. She only did that for birthdays, special events or bad news. No one had died recently unless cousin Anny finally drank herself to death and it was close to winter season a time where we rarely had birthdays of people we cared about. Not that we didn't care about the rest, just not