MasukEmily’s POV
Alex was carrying me through the pulsing club lights like I weighed nothing. One strong arm wrapped under my knees, the other supporting my back. My cheek pressed against his bare chest, still warm from where I’d collapsed into him moments ago. The bass vibrated through his body into mine as he moved through the crowd. “You’re really drunk, Emily,” he muttered, voice low near my ear. “This is a fucking mess.” I tightened my arms around his neck, clinging harder. “Alex…” I whispered, my lips brushing his collarbone. My voice came out soft and broken. “Make me forget him. Please… touch me like you mean it.” He stopped walking for a second, right at the edge of the dance floor. I felt his chest rise sharply under my cheek. His grip on me tightened. “Emily,” he said, warning clear in his tone. “You don’t know what you’re asking. Julian’s my best friend. You’re his little sister. This is crossing every line.” I lifted my head slowly, meeting those stormy gray eyes. The club lights flashed across his sharp jaw and tousled dark hair. Even through the alcohol fog, I could see the battle happening inside him, the responsible guy who knew better versus the playboy who wanted what was right in front of him. “I don’t care about lines tonight,” I breathed. “He broke me, Alex. I saw him kissing her and I just… I need to feel something else. Something real. Even if it’s only for tonight.” Alex cursed under his breath. His jaw clenched so hard I saw the muscle jump. But he didn’t put me down. Instead, he carried me away from the main floor, moving toward a darker, quieter corner near the back hallway where the lights barely reached. He set me on my feet but kept one arm around my waist, steadying me. My back pressed against the cool wall. The music was still loud but muffled here, like the world had narrowed down to just the two of us. “This is a bad idea,” he whispered, forehead resting against mine. His breath was warm on my lips. “You’re going to hate me tomorrow.” “I won’t,” I promised, even though I wasn’t sure. My hands slid up his bare chest, feeling every ridge of muscle. “Just make the pain stop for a little while.” Alex hesitated one heartbeat longer. Then his resolve snapped. He kissed me. His mouth crashed down on mine, hungry and demanding, like he’d been fighting the urge since the moment I crashed into him. I gasped against his lips and he took the chance to deepen the kiss, tongue brushing mine. My fingers curled into his shoulders, pulling him closer. One of his hands slid down my side, gripping my hip through the thin black dress. The other cupped the back of my neck, tilting my head so he could kiss me harder. Every stroke of his tongue sent sparks racing down my spine. I melted into him, desperate and needy, pouring all my heartbreak into the kiss. “Fuck, Emily,” he groaned against my mouth, breaking away just enough to breathe. His thumb brushed my bottom lip. “You taste like strawberries and bad decisions.” I laughed shakily, then pulled him back down. Our kisses grew hotter, messier. His hand roamed lower, slipping under the hem of my dress, fingertips grazing my thigh. I shivered and pressed closer, feeling the hard lines of his body against mine. His bare chest burned against the fabric of my dress. Every touch made me forget Lucas a little more. Alex pulled back again, breathing hard. His gray eyes were dark with want, but there was still that flicker of conflict. “We shouldn’t do this here,” he said, voice rough. “Not like this.” “Then take me somewhere else,” I whispered, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Please, Alex.” He stared at me for a long moment, searching my face like he was looking for any sign I might regret this. Whatever he saw must have convinced him, because he let out a defeated breath and kissed me once more, slower this time, almost tender. “Alright,” he murmured against my lips. “My place. But if you change your mind at any point, you tell me.” I nodded, dizzy with alcohol and desire and relief. He fixed my dress, then took my hand and led me through the back exit of the club. The cool night air hit my skin as we stepped outside. Alex shrugged on a hoodie one of his teammates handed him near the door, probably borrowed after I ruined his shirt. He kept one arm around me the whole way to his car, steadying my steps. By the time we reached his apartment, my heart was racing with nervous excitement. The moment the door closed behind us, he pulled me close again. Our kisses picked up right where they left off, urgent, heated, full of everything we shouldn’t feel. Clothes came off slowly between kisses. His hands exploring my skin like he wanted to memorize every inch. “This is a bad idea,” he whispered one last time as he lifted me onto his bed, lips trailing down my neck. But he didn’t stop. And neither did I. --- Morning light filtered through unfamiliar curtains, soft and golden. I woke up slowly, my head pounding like someone was hammering inside my skull. My mouth felt dry. My body ached in places I wasn’t used to. The sheets smelled like clean laundry and something masculine. I shifted slightly and froze. A strong, heavy arm was wrapped possessively around my bare waist. Warm breath brushed the back of my neck. I was completely naked under the soft gray comforter. My heart started hammering. This wasn’t my dorm room. This wasn’t my bed. Carefully, terrified of what I might see, I turned my head. Alex Hale lay beside me, still asleep. His dark hair was messy against the pillow. One muscular arm curled around me, the other resting near his face. His broad, bare chest rose and fell in steady breaths. The same chest I’d cried on, kissed, and touched last night. Memories crashed over me in fragments, the club, my reckless words, vomiting on him, the heated kisses in the dark corner, his voice whispering my name as we fell into his bed. Oh God. I had slept with my brother’s best friend. The hockey captain. The campus playboy. And now I was lying naked in his arms, with no idea how I was going to face him when those gray eyes finally opened.Dual POV — Alex & EmilyAlex’s POVThe afternoon sun slanted warm through the living room windows, dust motes dancing in the golden light. Maya stood between us, small and steady, her hands gripping my fingers and Emily’s wrists, her dark eyes wide and serious like she was weighing something very important.“Come on, bug,” I whispered, kneeling on the rug, my heart beating fast and bright in my chest. “You’ve got this. Just one step. To me.”Slowly — so slowly I held my breath — she let go of Emily with one hand. Then the other. She swayed, arms out for balance, and for a second I thought she’d drop back down to crawl. But her little face set, determined and fierce, exactly like her mother’s. And then she stepped forward.One wobbly foot, then the other. Across that small stretch of floor, from Emily’s waiting arms straight into mine. She stumbled the last half-step, and I caught her before she could tip over, lifting her high against my chest, tears spilling hot and fast down my chee
Alex’s POVThe email arrived in my inbox on a Tuesday afternoon, subject line simple and bold: Captaincy — Discussion. I stared at it for a long moment before clicking it open, my pulse quickening in a way that felt both familiar and strange. This was it. The thing I’d dreamed of since I was a teenager lacing up skates in a freezing rink, practicing until my toes went numb. They wanted me as team captain.I read the details twice. Then a third time. And that was when the excitement started to tangle with something heavier, something that pulled tight in my chest. The role came with everything I’d once thought I wanted — the honor, the voice in decisions, the respect from the league. But it also came with a price tag in hours and miles. More media appearances. Overnight trips that stretched into three and four days at a time. Away games that meant leaving before Maya woke up and coming home after she’d been asleep for hours. Weeks when the most I’d see of my family would be blurry vide
Emily’s POVThe wooden box sat on the shelf above my desk for two whole days before I had the courage to lift the latch. Every time I walked past it, I slowed down, my fingers hovering near the brass, and then I’d keep going. It felt like crossing a threshold — once I opened it, there would be no going back. Once I read those words, my mother wouldn’t just be a memory anymore. She’d be real in a way that might hurt.When I finally sat down late one quiet afternoon, Maya napping in her crib, Alex at practice, I carried the box to the kitchen table and lifted the lid. Inside were five leather-bound journals, stacked neatly, each one labeled with a year in her delicate handwriting. Beneath them was a small bundle of letters tied with faded blue ribbon, and a single photograph — her, young and bright-eyed, smiling at the camera like she knew something wonderful was coming.I opened the first one carefully, as if the pages might crumble at my touch. The ink was still dark and clear, her ha
Emily’s POV He was standing on the porch when we opened the door, and for a moment I didn’t recognize him. The Julian I remembered had been sharp around the edges — always dressed too formally, jaw tight, eyes darting like he was constantly checking for exits. The man standing there now looked softer around the shoulders but heavier somehow, like he was carrying something invisible pressing him downward. His hair was streaked with more gray than I remembered, lines etched deep around his eyes, and when he saw me, he hesitated — his hand half-raised in a gesture that was halfway between a greeting and a retreat. “Emily,” he said, and his voice was lower, quieter than I recalled. “Thank you. For letting me come.” I didn’t step forward to invite him in immediately. I gripped the doorframe, my heart beating a fast, uneven rhythm against my ribs. This was my home. Maya was asleep in her crib down the hall. Alex stood close beside me — not blocking my way, but steady, his presence a quie
Emily’s POV The afternoon sunlight slanted across the kitchen table when I found it — tucked beneath the doormat, like someone had slipped it there quickly, almost nervously, and walked away. No stamp. No postmark. Just a plain cream envelope, sealed simply, and my name written across the front in handwriting I would have recognized anywhere, even after all these years. Even if I’d tried to forget it. Emily. The letters were neat, elegant, familiar in a way that made my breath catch. My hand hovered over it for a long moment before I picked it up. It felt lighter than it should have, carrying so much weight just in those few words. Julian. I carried it inside and set it on the wooden table, like it might burn me if I held it too long. Through the window, I could see Alex in the backyard, pushing Maya gently on the little swing he’d hung from one of the lower branches of the oak tree. Her laughter carried through the open window — bright, effortless, alive. It was a beautiful day.
Alex’s POVThe rain started just after midnight — soft at first, a gentle drumming against the bedroom roof, then steady, rhythmic, filling the quiet spaces between our breaths. It was the kind of night that usually felt like a lullaby, the kind that wrapped around the cottage and made everything feel tucked in and safe. I’d fallen asleep with one arm draped heavy over Emily’s waist, the window cracked open just enough to let the cool damp air brush our faces, and for a few hours, I’d slept deep and untroubled — something that used to feel impossible.Then Maya cried.It wasn’t her usual little whimper, the one that meant she was waking up hungry or just needed a finger to hold onto. This was different — sharp, distressed, a sound that shot straight through me and had me out of bed before I was even fully awake. My bare feet met the cool wooden floor, and I crossed the hallway to her room in three quick strides, my heart already beating faster than it should.The nightlight cast her r
Emily’s POVMy legs felt loose and heavy at the same time as I stumbled back toward the bar. The music pulsed louder in my ears, each beat slamming against my skull. Kara’s warning from moments ago still rang in my head, but I pushed it away. “Another one,” I told the bartender, slapping my hand
Emily’s POVMy body moved on its own, hips swaying harder than I ever had before, arms raised like I could push the pain out through my fingertips. The bass thumped inside my chest, matching the angry beat of my pulse. Sweat clung to my skin. The black dress rode up my thighs with every sharp turn
Emily’s POVI stared at myself in the mirror and barely recognized the girl looking back.The tight black dress Kara lent me hugged every curve, short enough to make me tug at the hem nervously. My eyes were still puffy from crying, but I’d managed to cover most of the redness with makeup. Lip glo
Emily’s POVMy laughter died the second I pushed open the café door.There he was, Lucas, my boyfriend of thirteen months with another girl on his lap, kissing her like he was starving.His hands gripped her waist exactly the way they used to grip mine. Her long chestnut hair spilled over his shoul







