All Chapters of In Love With My Best Friend’s Brother : Chapter 71 - Chapter 80

MILEY If I said I didn’t think about last night every five minutes since it happened, I’d be lying through my teeth. The memory kept replaying — the music, the fairy lights, the way Jordan looked at me like I was the only person in the room. My lips still tingled. My chest still fluttered. It was ridiculous. Liv’s voice broke through my thoughts as she slammed my locker shut. “Earth to Miami’s newest lovebird!” I jumped. “Liv!” She grinned, all mischievous eyes and knowing smirk. “Don’t even try to lie to me, Miley. You’ve been smiling like you swallowed a sunbeam since you got here. Spill. What happened last night?” “Nothing,” I said way too fast. Liv folded her arms. “Uh-huh. Sure. You just randomly wore your nicest hoodie to ‘nothing.’” I sighed, giving up. There was no winning with her. “Fine. Jordan… did something.” “Something?” “He, um—” My cheeks burned just remembering. “He set up the dance studio. With lights. Music. And—” “Oh my God!” Liv squealed, slapping her

MILEY If last night felt like a dream, then this morning was the sweet, hazy kind of reality I didn’t want to wake up from. I kept smiling into my pillow like an idiot, replaying everything — the rooftop lights, the fries, the kiss, his voice when he called me darling in that low, teasing tone that somehow made my stomach flutter every single time. Liv noticed. Of course she did. When I walked into the kitchen humming, she looked up from her cereal with an amused smirk. “You’re glowing.” “I’m not glowing,” I said, reaching for the fridge. “Uh-huh. So the girl who came home at midnight, smiling like she just got proposed to, isn’t glowing? Okay.” I turned, giving her a look. “You’re dramatic.” She grinned wider. “I knew it. You and Jordan went on your date, didn’t you? You look like a walking Hallmark movie.” I froze, orange juice halfway to my glass. “You’re awfully nosy for someone who’s also dating her brother’s best friend .” “Touché.” She folded her arms, leaning on th

MILEY The house was too quiet. Not peaceful quiet — the kind that wraps around you and makes you feel safe. This was the kind that pressed against your chest until you could barely breathe. The kind that followed bad news. I sat at the kitchen table, the manila envelope from last night staring at me like it had teeth. Mom was at the sink, stirring her tea absently, the spoon clinking against the mug over and over again. Neither of us had spoken since I came home. I’d cried until my throat hurt, until even the sound of my name would’ve made me shatter again. But now there were no tears left — just this heavy, stunned silence. “Mom,” I said finally, my voice hoarse. “What does it mean? The papers.” She didn’t answer right away. Her shoulders were tense, her knuckles white around the spoon. When she finally turned to me, there was a weariness in her eyes that scared me more than anything. “It means,” she said quietly, “that your father’s filed for sole custody.” I swallowed har

Miley’s POV The night wind smelled of salt and rain. I sat on the cold sand, knees tucked to my chest, my fingers digging into the earth like I was holding on for balance. The waves were steady tonight — rising and falling like they didn’t care how broken the world could be. I hadn’t cried in hours, but my throat still burned from it. Every word from my dad replayed in my head like a loop I couldn’t pause — “You belong with me, Miley. Your mother isn’t stable.” Stable. Like he hadn’t been the one to rip us apart in the first place. I hated that part of me still loved him. Hated that part of me wished things were easier — that I could just go back to being the girl who believed her dad was the good guy. I heard footsteps crunching on the sand before I saw him. Jordan. His silhouette was backlit by the pier lights, his hoodie pulled low, hands in his pockets like he was trying to hide from the night. He didn’t say anything at first. Just walked until he was standing beside me, the

Miley’s POV Mom didn’t sleep much after the letter came. I could hear her moving around the kitchen before sunrise, the soft clinking of dishes and the whirr of the old coffee machine echoing through the quiet house. The whole place felt different—stiff, uncertain, as if even the walls were holding their breath. The envelope was still on the counter where she’d dropped it last night. “Custody hearing scheduled for next week.” Those words had been burned into my mind since the moment I saw them. I walked into the kitchen, rubbing sleep from my eyes. Mom looked up, forcing a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “Morning, sweetheart. Want some coffee?” I shook my head, sliding into a chair. “You didn’t sleep.” She chuckled softly, stirring sugar into her mug. “Neither did you.” She was right. I’d spent half the night staring at my ceiling, replaying every fight, every slammed door, every time Dad’s voice had echoed through the house in anger before he left. And now he wanted to ta