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CHAPTER 171
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2025-11-28 05:25:34
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Craving The Enemy CHAPTER 181
TYLER Epilogue: Fourteen Years LaterThe house was finally quiet for exactly six minutes. Six. I counted them like a man counting heartbeats in a war zone.Mason had just come back from his jog, his hair still damp from the morning rain, white shirt clinging to his chest in a way that should be illegal for a man pushing fifty. He kicked the door shut with his heel, dropped his keys on the counter, and the second his eyes found mine across the kitchen, we both knew.No words. We didn’t need them anymore.I was already moving. He met me halfway, hands fisting in my hair, mouth crashing into mine like he’d been starving for it all day. Maybe he had. We both had. Four kids will do that to you: turn every stolen second into something feral.“Lock the door,” I breathed against his lips.“Already did,” he growled, backing me toward the laundry room. The second the door clicked shut behind us, he had me pinned against the dryer, his thigh shoving between mine, grinding slow and filth
Craving The Enemy CHAPTER 180
TYLERThe violin started before I was ready.My fingers shook around the bouquet, not because I was scared, but because this moment—the moment—felt impossibly real in a way my brain wasn’t fully prepared to handle.“Anak,” my father whispered beside me.Antonio Reyes.Still stern. Still sharp.But not cruel anymore.He offered his arm, stiff but present.“You ready?” he asked.I swallowed. “Yeah.”“Good,” he said, voice cracking just slightly. “Let’s… walk.”The doors opened.And I stepped into forever.Everyone stood.Rows and rows of people—family, friends, titas wiping tears, the twins throwing flower petals their parents definitely did NOT authorize. Vesper was crying so hard Mateo had to fan her.Gabriel winked at me.Andres mouthed, “You look beautiful.”My mother clasped her hands like I’d just been crowned king.And at the very end of the aisle—Mason.My Mason.Standing in a perfectly tailored suit, eyes wide, hand covering his mouth like he physically couldn’t handle seeing
Craving The Enemy CHAPTER 179
CHAPTER 179TYLER Landing back in America felt like stepping into a spotlight I didn’t remember turning on.Everyone knew about the engagement now—both families, our friends, strangers on the internet, probably even my old teachers who always said I’d “amount to nothing but trouble.”Mason held my hand the entire drive to the Grant mansion. I pretended I wasn’t nervous. I failed.“You’ll be fine,” he murmured, squeezing my fingers. “They love you.”“I know,” I sighed. “But your family plus my titas? That’s not ‘love.’ That’s a battlefield.”He laughed like he didn’t understand the gravity of Filipino aunties armed with gossip and unsolicited advice.We stepped inside—And I was swallowed alive.“TYLER!”Four titas flew at me like a pack of migrating birds.“Ang gwapo mo, anak! (You’re so handsome, child!)”“Tumaba ka ba? (Did you gain weight?)”“Hindi, pumayat siya! (No, he got thinner!)”“Kumakain ka ba nang tama? (Are you eating properly?)”“Huy, let him breathe!”“M-Ma—?!” I squea
Craving The Enemy CHAPTER 178
CHAPTER 178MASONI woke up to an empty bed and the smell of coffee and bacon drifting through the apartment. Sunlight poured through the curtains, Tyler’s ring glinting on the nightstand where he’d left it so it wouldn’t get flour on it (he’s dramatic like that).I stretched, groaned at the delicious ache in my muscles, and pulled on nothing but sweatpants. My fiancé was cooking. I was going to go kiss the hell out of him.I padded barefoot down the hall, rubbing sleep from my eyes, and then I stopped dead in the kitchen doorway.Tyler was at the stove. Wearing nothing but the tiny red “Kiss the Cook” apron we bought as a joke in Boracay. Nothing underneath. The strings tied in a bow at the small of his back, the fabric barely covering his chest, and his perfect, red, freshly-spanked ass completely on display.He was humming, swaying his hips to whatever song was in his head, flipping pancakes like he wasn’t serving the hottest view I’d ever seen at 8 a.m.I leaned agains
Craving The Enemy CHAPTER 177
CHAPTER 177MASONI had never sweated this much in my entire life—not during finals, not during my first international debut, not even the night Tyler almost died in that damn cabin.But this?This was a different kind of pressure.The kind that made my heart slam against my ribs like it was trying to escape.The ring box in my pocket felt like it weighed ten kilograms, and every time I touched it to reassure myself it was still there, it felt hotter, heavier, as if it knew exactly what I was about to do.I had rented out the whole restaurant—lights dim, soft jazz playing in the background, candles on every table, flowers arranged exactly the way Tyler liked them. It was stupidly romantic, and I could only pray he wouldn’t realize what I was planning.He didn’t.He walked in smiling, soft lip gloss catching the light, his shirt elegant and cream and clinging to his collarbone in ways that made me want to cancel everything and carry him straight home.But no.Focus.Speech first. Ring
Craving The Enemy CHAPTER 176
CHAPTER 176TYLER 3 years Later“ZACHARY! Don’t fight with him—oh my God, put the hockey stick DOWN!”The two boys froze mid-swing.Zach blinked at me like I was speaking another language. “Coach, he called me a wannabe Mason Grant.”I pinched the bridge of my nose. “And so you try to concuss him? On school property? During practice?”The other kid mumbled, “He is a wannabe Mason Grant.”“OH MY—” I dragged a hand down my face. “Everyone sit down. Everyone. Right now. Ten pushups. Each.”The groans echoed across the indoor rink, painful but expected.I started pacing like a stressed single mother.It had been three years since everything—Noah, the company, the drama, the chaos—and yet these kids still managed to give me aneurysms every Tuesday and Thursday.I kind of loved them for it.“Coach Tyler?” a tiny voice called from the far end.“What?” I snapped, turning.The entire rink squealed.Because Mason Grant—the Mason Grant—my boyfriend of almost a decade at this point, the national
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