ログイン“You chose them over me,” Jules whispered, her voice breaking as Adrian walked away, “and now I’m paying for both our choices.” The bro code was simple: teammates don't touch each other's sisters. Jules Rowan broke it anyway. Adrian Cross was supposed to be her brother's best friend, not hers. The brooding transfer student with eyes and secrets carved into his skin. He was off-limits in every way that mattered. But Jules was tired of being the perfect coach's daughter, so she pursued him. Seduced him and made him break every rule for her. One stolen kiss in the equipment room changed everything. Now her father won't speak her name, her brother wants Adrian's blood, and the entire campus treats her like a disease. She's broke, homeless, and friendless—the girl who destroyed a championship team for selfish love. But the cruelest cut isn't the public humiliation or family abandonment. It's watching Adrian look at her like she's his biggest regret. They say she's getting what she deserves for breaking the bro code. Maybe they're right. But some hearts are worth burning down the world for—even if you're the only one left standing in the ashes.
もっと見るJules POV
"Show her the photos, Roni," Ethan says, his voice rising through the athletic department hallway.
The words hit me, but it's his tone it was deadly calm that makes my blood freeze. I'm standing near Coach Peterson's office, clutching my student liaison folder against my chest.
"What photos?" I ask, though my voice comes out smaller than I want it to.
My brother leans against the wall with his arms crossed, looking at me like I'm a stranger who wandered into his territory. Veronica Clarke steps forward, her phone already glowing in her perfectly manicured hand.
"I think you know exactly what photos," she says with a smile that doesn't reach her eyes.
She turns the screen toward me and my heart stops completely. There's Adrian kissing me outside his apartment last Tuesday. Another shot of us holding hands between the library stacks. A third showing him pulling me close in the parking garage, both of us laughing.
"Where did you get these?" I whisper, staring at the images that feel both intimate and violating on her screen.
"I've been watching you for weeks, Jules," Veronica says, her voice dripping with fake concern. "I was worried about you, sneaking around, lying to your family. Someone needed to document what was really happening."
The folder slips from my numb fingers as papers scatter across the floor.
"You've been stalking me?" I ask in disbelief.
"I've been protecting this team," she replies, tilting her phone so Ethan can see the screen better. "There are dozens more. You two haven't been as careful as you thought."
Ethan pushes himself off the wall and steps closer. I've seen him angry before at refs, at opposing players, at reporters who ask stupid questions. But I've never seen him look at me like this. Like I'm the enemy.
"How long?" he asks, his voice barely above a whisper.
"Ethan" I start, reaching toward him.
"How. Long," he repeats, emphasizing each word.
I swallow hard. "Two months."
"Two months," he says, repeating the words. "Two months of lying to my face. Two months of sneaking around with my best friend. Two months of making me look like a complete fool."
"It's not like that," I whisper desperately.
"Then what's it like, Jules?" he demands, stepping so close I instinctively back against the wall. "Because from where I'm standing, it looks like you decided to blow up everything I've worked for just to get some attention."
The accusation hits like a jab to my chest. "Attention? You think this is about attention?"
"I think this is about you being a spoiled brat who can't stand not being the center of the universe for five seconds," he says.
Tears burn my eyes, but I force them back. "I love him."
Ethan laughs, but there's no humor in the sound. "You love him. Right. And what about what I love? What about everything I've built here? What about the team that depends on me?"
"The team will be fine" I try to protest.
"No, Jules. The team won't be fine," he says, his voice rising for the first time. "Adrian and I are supposed to lead these guys. We're supposed to trust each other completely. How do I explain to them that my quarterback can't trust me enough to tell me he's screwing my sister?"
The crude words make me flinch like he's slapped me.
"And how do I trust him again?" Ethan continues, starting to pace like a caged animal. "How do I call plays knowing he's been lying to me every single day? How do I have his back when he stabbed me in mine?"
Veronica touches his arm with practiced gentleness. "I'm so sorry, Ethan. I know how much your friendship with Adrian means to you."
He covers her hand with his, and the gesture feels like another betrayal. "Thank you for telling me. I know this wasn't easy."
I stare at them her calculated sympathy, his grateful acceptance and something cold settles deep in my chest.
"You planned this," I say, the words coming out flat and certain.
"I was protecting" Veronica starts, her eyes widening with practiced innocence.
"You were waiting," I continue, looking between her and my brother. "Waiting for the perfect moment to destroy me."
"Don't be dramatic, Jules," Ethan says dismissively. "You destroyed yourself. Roni just documented it."
My phone buzzes in my pocket. Once. Twice. Then a rapid succession of notifications.
I pull it out with trembling hands. Group chat notifications flood my screen faster than I can read them.
Westfield Football Family Academic All-Stars Delta Pi Social Campus Activities Board
Every single group chat I'm part of is exploding with activity.
"Oh god," I breathe, my thumb hovering over the first notification. "You didn't just show Ethan."
Veronica's smile turns razor-sharp with satisfaction. "I thought people deserved to know the truth."
I tap into the football family chat with dread pooling in my stomach. My knees nearly give out when the photos load. They're all there every stolen moment, every private kiss, every secret moment between Adrian and me.
The comments are already rolling in:
No fucking way Rowan's sister? Dude This explains so much How long has this been going on? Coach is gonna lose his absolute shit
"You sent these to everyone," I say.
"I sent them to people who care about this team," Veronica replies, sliding her phone into her designer purse like she's just finished a successful business transaction. "People who deserve to know when someone's undermining everything."
My phone continues buzzing non-stop. Every group chat, every social media platform, every corner of campus where I exist digitally is exploding with my most private moments.
"Ethan, please," I beg, reaching for his arm, but he jerks away like I'm contagious. "We can fix this. We can"
"We?" he asks with a bitter laugh that sounds nothing like my brother. "There is no 'we' anymore, Jules. You made sure of that."
He starts walking away, and Veronica falls into step beside him like she belongs there.
"Where are you going?" I call after them, my voice cracking.
"To find Adrian," Ethan says without turning around. "Someone needs to explain to him what loyalty actually means."
Adrian POVI see the commotion from across the quad.Jules is shouting at someone, her voice carrying over the normal campus noise. I'm too far away to hear words, but I can read the fury in her body language.Then she slaps Veronica.The sound cracks through the air, loud and clear."Holy shit," Tyler breathes beside me. "Did Jules just hit Veronica?"Students are pulling out phones, recording. Security is pushing through the crowd. And Jules—Jules looks like she's seconds from completely falling apart."We should go," I say, starting to turn away.But I can't. My feet won't move. I watch security lead both girls away, watch the crowd dissipate with their phones still out, already spreading the video."Man, Jules is really losing it," Tyler comments. "Violence now? That's a new low.""She wouldn't hit someone without reason."Tyler looks at me sharply. "You defending her?""I'm stating facts. Jules isn't violent.""Maybe not before you broke her heart. But people change when they're
Jules POVThe library should be safe. It's always been my refuge—quiet, anonymous, a place where I can disappear into studying and pretend the rest of campus doesn't exist.But Veronica's voice carries across the quad outside the windows."I'm just worried about her, you know?"I freeze in my chair, textbook forgotten. Through the glass, I can see Veronica holding court with a group of sorority girls on the lawn."Jules was always... intense," she continues, her tone dripping with false concern. "Even in high school, she'd do anything for attention. I thought college would help her mature, but clearly not."The sorority girls lean in, hungry for details."What do you mean, anything?" one asks.Veronica glances around like she's making sure no one's listening. But she's positioned herself perfectly—voice loud enough to carry, performance calibrated for maximum impact."I shouldn't say." She pauses for effect. "But there were rumors. About her and other guys on the team. Not just Adrian
Adrian POVThe door to my dorm closes behind me, and I lean against it like it's the only thing holding me up.My hands are shaking. My entire body is shaking.COWARD!Jules' voice echoes through my head, louder than my heartbeat. The raw pain in her scream, the way she looked at me with those hollow eyes.I push off the door and pace my small room. Three steps to the window, three steps back. My roommate is out, thank God. I can't handle witnesses right now.She waited for me in the cold, just to talk to me.And I called what we had a mistake."Fuck!" The word explodes from my chest.I grab the first thing I can reach—my statistics textbook—and hurl it across the room. It hits the wall with a satisfying thud but does nothing to ease the pressure building inside me.She grabbed my jacket. Her hands were freezing, red from cold, shaking so badly I could feel it through the fabric.And I pulled away.My reflection in the room mirror stares back at me. Dark circles under bloodshot eyes.
Jules POVAdrian's dorm building looks the same as it did two weeks ago. Red brick, white trim, students coming and going with their backpacks and coffee cups.But I'm different now. Hollow. Frustrated. Running on fumes and the last shreds of my dignity.I check my phone. 4:47 PM. Adrian's class gets out at five, and he usually heads straight home before evening practice.The cold seeps through my jacket as I settle onto the bench outside his building. October in North Carolina means unpredictable weather—yesterday was warm, today feels like winter came early.I should have worn something warmer. Should have eaten lunch. Should have done a lot of things differently.But I'm here now, and I'm not leaving until he talks to me.5:15 PM. Students stream past, but no Adrian.5:30 PM. My fingers are going numb.5:45 PM. Maybe he went somewhere else. Maybe he saw me waiting and took a different entrance.6:00 PM. I'm shaking now, partly from cold, partly from the reality that I'm sitting out
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