All Chapters of From Best Friend To Fiancé : Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

Roman I didn’t mean to kiss her—at least not like that. Not with her moaning into my mouth and my hands itching to rip her bikini off in broad daylight.But the moment she had walked out of the house in that scandalous collection of red strings, I'd lost all fucking restraint. I didn’t care that Emily was giggling just a few feet away.I wanted to tear that bikini off her and claim her in front of the whole goddamn world.All my promises and good intentions went up in flames.I wanted to corner her against the pool wall and fuck her hard, not caring if her entire fucking family was watching.There was nothing fake about that kiss. Not a damn thing. I wanted her. I still want her. Badly. And I know she felt it too.That’s the part that scares me most—the fact that I want her in ways I shouldn't, ways that’ll ruin everything.Best friends shouldn't think about fucking each other as many times as I've imagined bending Savannah over. I’ve imagined Savannah in every filthy position my

Alyssa was kneeling by the edge of the pool, soaked, hair wild, screaming Emily’s name. Lizzie stood frozen, tears streaming down her cheeks, pointing toward the deep end.Chloe was rooted on the spot. Her eyes wide and scared. Roman was already diving in without thinking.Dean was just walking in from the other side of the house, phone in hand— body still glistening from the dip earlier. “Jesus Christ,” Dean breathed, sprinting to the water’s edge in case Roman needed help.I rushed to Alyssa’s side and dropped to my knees, grabbing her shaking hands. “What happened?!”“I—I turned around for one second,” Alyssa choked out, her voice breaking as she gasped for breath. “I swear I only turned for one second. I was trying to get her snack. I didn’t think she’d—”Roman was already pulling Emily up from the water. I noticed her little stuffed unicorn still in the pool. Her arms hung like broken twigs. Not a twitch. Not a cry. Just silence. A silence loud enough to split my chest wide o

RomanI walked into the room and it felt like a death sentence had just been delivered. Alyssa was crumpled on the couch like a broken doll, her face blotchy, her breathing uneven. Savannah had her arm around her, rubbing small, soothing circles on her shoulder. Lizzie was pacing near the window, phone to her ear, her voice sharp and low as she spoke in a rush. Savannah’s mom lingered around her. “What’s going on?” I asked, my voice cutting through the tension.Savannah looked up, her eyes red. “Emily’s dad is downstairs,” she said. “He’s causing a scene and threatening to take her away.”Even she sounded shaken.Emily was still sleeping peacefully on the bed. I curled my fingers in rage. “Where has he been the whole time? If he's such a devoted father, why wasn't he there to save her from drowning?” Alyssa didn’t look at me. “We’re not together,” she said quietly. “He’s not in her life.”She turned her face away, but the guilt was written all over her.The way she avoided my eye

Savannah The wipers squeaked across the windshield in a steady rhythm, but even that couldn’t drown out the pounding in my head. The town looked different at night—blurred neon signs, sleepy storefronts, familiar streets that seemed to mock us with their silence.“Dean,” I said, for the fourth time. “We’ve been driving around for hours. Don’t you know anyone she might be staying with?”My voice cracked from exhaustion, eyes scanning the dimly lit streets of New Hope like we were on a scavenger hunt for a ghost. The car’s heater hummed quietly, the only warmth between us. We'd checked bars, diners, the bowling alley, that one dingy nightclub with the blinking sign, even the creepy church on Grove Street that used to scare Chloe as a child. Nothing.He didn’t answer right away. Just gripped the steering wheel tighter and made another left.“She’s out there somewhere, Sav,” Dean’s jaw flexed, “She’s emotional. Vulnerable. We can’t give up. I don't want her falling into the wrong hands

The morning light forced its way into the room, casting that perfect golden glow on everything it touched. Except me. So many memories of us like this, in this position, resurfaced. It was always because I had a breakdown. I'd always come crying to him. And he'd hold me close and never let go until I was fine. Roman never had any of such episodes, he always had his shit together. I was sprawled over him, one leg draped lazily across his waist, my cheek resting against the warm, steady rise and fall of his chest. His arms were still around me, loosely now, like neither of us wanted to be the first to let go.We were both awake. I could feel it in the way his fingers flexed gently against the small of my back, the way his chest tensed beneath me each time I exhaled.But we didn’t say anything.Not for a long, long time.Until I did."Am I really that difficult to love?" I asked softly, voice barely above a whisper. It wasn’t even meant to be said aloud. Roman stiffened beneath me