บททั้งหมดของ Never Mine To Love: บทที่ 141 - บทที่ 150

Daniel’s POVBy evening, I found myself in a bar.I didn’t even remember the drive here. My hands had been on the wheel, the streets moving under me, the buildings passing in a blur, but I couldn’t have told you where I turned or what lights I stopped at. Somehow, my body carried me here like it knew this was the only place left for me.The bar wasn’t crowded. A few groups sat in corners, voices raised just enough to fill the air, clinking glasses, music from an old jukebox humming somewhere near the back. It was loud enough to drown out the thoughts screaming in my head, but not so loud that I couldn’t hear myself breathe. The kind of place people went when they didn’t want to be noticed, and at the same time, when they wanted someone to notice just how invisible they had become.I slid onto a stool, the leather cracked beneath me, and ordered a whiskey. The first burn down my throat barely registered. I ordered another. Then something else. I didn’t even bother asking what it was. I

Karden’s POVI wanted it to happen.This wasn’t River. It was me. Karden.And Daniel was mine, even if only for tonight.His mouth crashed into mine again, messy and hard, tasting of whiskey and salt. I swallowed it down like it was the only thing that could keep me alive. His breath was hot and unsteady, his body heavy against mine, but I guided him, let him press me back, let him think he was leading when it was really me bringing him here.He was lost. I could feel it in the way he clung to me, in the way his hands fumbled over my body like he was trying to grab hold of something solid in a world that was spinning too fast. But I didn’t care. I didn’t care that his words slurred, that his lips trembled, that his voice cracked when he whispered a name that wasn’t mine.“River.”It cut deep, but I ignored it.Because Daniel’s body was burning against mine, and that was enough.I eased him back onto the bed, the thin mattress groaning under our weight. His legs hit the edge, and I pus

Daniel’s POVThe first thing I felt was the headache.It split my skull in two, hammering at my temples, beating in rhythm with my pulse. Every throb made the light sharper, the sounds louder. Even the faint hum of the air conditioner was too much, drilling into my brain like punishment.My mouth was dry. My tongue felt like sandpaper, stuck to the roof. My throat burned as if I had swallowed fire. My stomach twisted tight, heavy with whiskey and shame.Then came the second thing. The sheets.Not mine. Too crisp, too smooth, too clean. They smelled faintly of bleach and some kind of floral spray. Not the familiar scent of home. Not Olivia’s soft perfume lingering on pillows. Not River’s lavender detergent clinging to worn T-shirts.This wasn’t home. This wasn’t safe.And then—heat.A body pressed close, sharing the bed.My chest froze.My eyes flew open, the light from the window cutting into me like knives. I winced, groaned, and rubbed at my face with clumsy hands before I forced my

Noah’s POVRiver was asleep in my arms, soft and warm against me, his face pressed into my chest. I held him tight, not wanting the moment to end. His breathing was even, calm, like he trusted me enough to let go completely. That trust made my chest ache. I had said it already, I love you and he hadn’t said it back. But he kissed me, he held me, and I told myself that was enough for now. He needed time. I would give him that.The morning light slipped through the curtains, painting the room gold. Everything felt still, quiet, like the world was holding its breath. Then my phone buzzed on the nightstand, loud in the silence. River stirred a little but didn’t wake. I froze, then reached for it carefully, sliding out of the bed so I wouldn’t disturb him.I checked the screen. Ethan. My stomach tightened. He wouldn’t call this early unless it mattered.I stepped into the living room and answered quietly. “Yeah?”“Noah?” Ethan’s voice was sharp, uneasy. “You busy?”“Not really. What’s wron

Ethan’s POVOld Paul’s diner looked the same as always. I stood there for a second, breathing out into the night air before I pulled the door open. The smell of coffee and fried bacon hit me at once. It was late, so the place wasn’t full, just a couple of students from college hunched over mugs and an old couple in the corner sharing pie.Noah was already there. He sat in a booth near the back, his head down, phone on the table, thumb scrolling like he was trying to keep busy. When he saw me, he lifted his eyes. He looked tired, but then again, Noah always looked tired these days. He waved me over.I slid into the booth across from him. The leather seat squeaked under me. Neither of us spoke for a second. We just sat there, the silence filling up with the clatter of plates and the low hum of the old jukebox.“You came fast,” Noah said finally. His voice was low, calm, but I could hear something under it. A careful edge.“Didn’t feel like staying home,” I muttered.He gave me a slow n