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CROSSING A LINE

مؤلف: Mmeso. L
last update تاريخ النشر: 2026-08-21 23:48:33

JEREMÍAS

Caleb hands which were simply resting on the sheets, now grips the sheets roughly. His fingers ball to fists on the mattress.

He swallows, the movement of his throat desperate, while his eyes dart around the room. His eyes are everywhere except on my face or body.

The way he glances at me and quickly looks away again only confirms the things I have just heard minutes ago.

He's suddenly tensed. Visibly.

“Why didn't you tell me what you knew?” I press, my heart racing with anger. “Fo
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  • 90 Days In My Bestfriend's Stepbrother's Bed    CROSSING A LINE

    JEREMÍASCaleb hands which were simply resting on the sheets, now grips the sheets roughly. His fingers ball to fists on the mattress. He swallows, the movement of his throat desperate, while his eyes dart around the room. His eyes are everywhere except on my face or body. The way he glances at me and quickly looks away again only confirms the things I have just heard minutes ago. He's suddenly tensed. Visibly. “Why didn't you tell me what you knew?” I press, my heart racing with anger. “For almost six years, you've held it. Why didn't you rub it in my face this time? You would surely have loved that!”My tone is cold, but somewhat steady. Not like I thought it would be. I don't know how I'm managing to hold in whatever storm's brewing in me right now. It's nearly impossible. Caleb sighs lazily. He doesn't answer immediately. He pushes himself up, his movements jagged as he leaps past me, heading towards the window near the far end of the room. It's as if the window offers more

  • 90 Days In My Bestfriend's Stepbrother's Bed    YES

    CHAPTER 61 ~ MY SHARE OF INSOMNIA ASHLEY I step inside the house and shut the door behind me with a mild thud. The house is still too quiet. I make my way for the stairs, ascending it, my legs feeling heavier with each step. I walk across the bright hallway, stopping in front of Caleb's bedroom door. I linger there, staring at the wood, not knocking or going in. I push the door open, stepping inside after a few internal convincing. The room is empty, the bed dressed perfectly, the windows open slightly to let in fresh, cool air. My eyes dart around the room, even the open bathroom. But no figure emerges from anywhere.“Caleb?” I call, my voice almost a whisper. I wonder if he'll even hear me call out to him at this rate.He isn't in here. He wasn't in the living room either. It was empty and so silent that I could hear my sneakers as I walked on the foyer.I step out, closing the door. Then, I stroll to my room. Caleb is mostly always in my personal space, and my bedroom, wait

  • 90 Days In My Bestfriend's Stepbrother's Bed    A COLLATERAL

    JEREMÍAS The court is a chaos of shouts and jumps, the hardwood floor vibrating with each sound. My teammates are cheering , giving one another high fives, hugs, fist bumps and chest bumps, their voices echoing off the walls in the room. We just won the first phase of the basketball championship, a five point lead that felt like a marathon victory to us. André is the loudest of them all. He rushes to me, hooking his arm around my neck with enough force to make me stumble. “At least smile, bro,” he says, making his voice loud over the noise. His hair is mixed with both sweat and water, the curls flinging off drops everywhere. “You're the captain. We won because of you.” I look at him, not saying a word. His brown eyes are on me, wide and sparkling with excitement. After a minute of realizing I won't do anything he says, he unhooks his arm and rushes back to the centre of the court, still celebrating with the rest of the teammates. I stand near the bench, watching as they fis

  • 90 Days In My Bestfriend's Stepbrother's Bed    WHAT THE HELL, CALEB!

    CALEB My gaze shifts to André who is now standing. For a minute, I had genuinely forgotten he was even in the room. I had forgotten that Jeremías' best friend is in the same room as us. Damn it. He approaches me, his eyes fixed on me. It's definitely more like a glare, but not noticeable. He glances at Ashley for a second, before turning fully to me, his eyes locking onto mine with a cold gaze. “You were hurt badly,” he says, his voice thick but casual. “Save your words and explanations. You really should be resting.” His words are devoid of the warmth I had just spent the last fifteen minutes gaining from Ashley. If not Jeremías, it's his ‘acting’ twin. They would never let me be in peace. My jaw tightens. It was either him or Jeremias, staying close, waiting to scatter any delicate plan I come up with to keep Ashley by my side. Why is he even here? He should be with Jeremías right now. “I've rested well enough at the hospital,” I reply, forcing my tone not to sound weak.

  • 90 Days In My Bestfriend's Stepbrother's Bed    FEEL GUILTY

    CALEB I groan as I step inside the house. Every movement sends a bolt of lightning through my neck, especially as I try to look at Ashley. My arm muscles are strained from using these crutches even for less than twenty four hours. My posture is deliberately slumped, my eyes fixed on the living room as I approach further. Then, she calls out my name. The same way she has always been calling out to me when all she needs is me. The same way she calls out my name like ten times in an hour. Not now. Not since we've arrived in Spain. My eyes flicker to André sitting on the armchair, but I don't pay attention to him. She bolts up from the sofa she's resting on, her eyes instantly landing on me. When her eyes lock onto mine, I see the familiar expression I've been waiting for since our ride back home. I drop my shoulders further, knitting my brows together into that of someone in misery. I wince, heaving a shaky breath that I hope sounds pathetic enough to break her heart. “

  • 90 Days In My Bestfriend's Stepbrother's Bed    FAVOURITE MEAL

    ASHLEY I watch Mrs Isabelle shift in her position, her palms folding. Her expression changes to a neutral mask—the kind that guarded any true thoughts she's having. She forces a stiff smile on her face, one that fully exposes the wrinkles on her face. “I love both Caleb and Jeremías, dear. But I can't tell you anything. If Jeremías told you the truth, you would know. It won't be that hard for you.” Her tone is firm and sincere. She has the exact same expression as Jeremías had on when he was telling me the truth. It runs in their genes I guess. Perfect. “I know, but—” I start, the words struggling to come out. I needed someone, a target to blame for the terrifying nightmares of blood rushing profusely from my stomach. Mrs Isabelle reaches her hand out, placing it over mine. It's warm and steady. It's a gesture I really need at this moment. “Besides, I'm not too sure to say. I don't really know. I wasn't exactly there the moment it happened. I heard different stories about

  • 90 Days In My Bestfriend's Stepbrother's Bed    NOT OFFICIALLY

    ASHLEY Ohhh. So, he's the distant first Cruz brother in the family. Caleb never really talked about him, but whenever his mum suggested he was going to visit his brother in Spain, he would refuse, saying that he likes how they barely know each other. “Your name.” “Huh?” “What's the name, los

  • 90 Days In My Bestfriend's Stepbrother's Bed    HIS STEPBROTHER

    ASHLEY I swallow hard, my cheeks flushing red. My hands are resting on Caleb's warm chest muscle. “Yes. Definitely you and I,” he says, his smile sheepish. “If you want, it can happen now. I can quickly call up Josh for you while I have my share of fun with Mirabel. My face quickly stiffens an

  • 90 Days In My Bestfriend's Stepbrother's Bed    HOLIDAY IN SPAIN

    ASHLEY The paintbrush slips from my hand, hitting the floor and splattering paint across the polished floor. I jerk my head around to face her. My mum and my dad are standing a few metres away from me, staring and smiling. I know that expression all too well. It is the same ‘smiling with just

  • 90 Days In My Bestfriend's Stepbrother's Bed    SICK TALK

    ASHLEY “Boring right?” A young out-of-shape man says, leaning into my space. He holds up a bottle with the name “VODKA” boldly written on it, a greasy smile plastered on his face. “How about we go over to my place and I show you what real fun looks like?” “Fuck off, sicko,” I snap, the irritati

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