Semua Bab In Love With My Son's Best Friend: Bab 41 - Bab 50

JUNE’S POVI gasped. I jerked my head back like I’d been burned. I couldn’t breathe. The whole room felt full of him.I tore the sheets off. I balled them up and shoved them deep into the hamper. My hands shook as I ripped open the new plastic. That crisp, chemical smell of new fabric and plastic wrap hit me. It smelled sterile, almost dead.I made the bed with insane precision, tucking the corners tight, smoothing the boring beige fabric until it was perfectly flat. Not a wrinkle. It was perfect. It was empty. It felt like I was making my own prison cell.I stood back and looked at it. It looked like a showroom, a place where nothing real had ever happened.But as I stood there, my heart still pounding, I knew it was all a lie. The new sheets were just a Band-Aid. The ghost of his smell might be gone from the cotton, but it was in the walls, in the air, in me. I could change the sheets, but I couldn’t change the truth staring back at me from the mirror.The next morning, after a quic

JUNE’S POVMy heart began a slow, heavy thud against my ribs. No. It was impossible. It was my own paranoia, my miserable life looking for shadows everywhere. Sarah was my best friend. Franklin was… well, Franklin was a cheater, but with secretaries like Karen. Not with my best friend. Not for nineteen years. The sheer scale of that was too monstrous to even hold in my head.But the seed was planted. And in the fertile, poisoned soil of my broken trust, it didn’t need much to start growing.I stood up too fast. My chair scraped loudly on the floor. “I should get going,” I said, my voice oddly tight. “I told Marlene I’d help her with… something.”Sarah’s happy glow faded into pure worry. She stood and hugged me tight. “Promise you’ll think about what I said. And call me anytime. I mean it.”I hugged her back. I breathed in her familiar perfume. That scent had always meant safety, gossip, solidarity. Now it just made my stomach twist.“I will,” I whispered into her shoulder. But I wasn’

LUCA’S POVThe second I saw June look over, something cold and sharp settled in my gut. There she was, halfway across the room, holding a tray of drinks like it was a shield. But her eyes were locked on me. On Chloe’s hand on my arm.Finally.All week, I had been trying to get a reaction from her. Any reaction. A flinch, a sigh, anything. I had even mentioned Marlene needing help with her car, hoping for a little spark of jealousy. Nothing. Just that polite, infuriating mask she wears around the house lately. She was better at this cold war than I was.So I had switched tactics. If she could pretend I did not exist, I would make sure I was impossible to ignore.Enter Chloe. Look, she was not my type. Everyone knew Chloe. She had been making eyes at me all night, and I had been politely deflecting. But then I saw June watching, and a plan, this ugly, desperate thing, just clicked into place.Fine. If being good got me nowhere, I would be the villain she clearly wanted me to be.I turne

JUNE’S POV The moment his mouth crashed into mine again, up in that moonlit room, I knew the word “tonight” was already crumbling between us. It was not a promise anymore. It was a plea, a desperate little fiction we kept whispering so we could pretend there was still a line we had not crossed for good. His hands slipped under my blouse, palms hot and sure against my skin, fingers spreading like he needed to touch every inch he had been denied for weeks. I arched into him without thinking. *God, I wanted this.* I wanted the hollow ache inside me filled with something raw and loud enough to drown out Marlene’s name, Adrian’s soft breathing down the hall, Franklin snoring in the guest room like nothing in the world was breaking. We never even made it downstairs properly. I think I was the one who tugged him toward the garage, some frantic animal part of me that knew the house itself would choke us if we stayed inside. Luca’s mouth was on my neck, teeth dragging slow and deliberate

LUCA’S POVI couldn’t stop smiling. This ridiculous grin just kept pulling at my lips no matter how much I tried to act normal. It felt stupid, and helpless, like my face had a mind of its own.I was leaning against the cool edge of the counter, the granite pressing into my back, coffee steaming in one hand, phone in the other. My thumb scrolled like I was actually reading something, but I wasn’t. I was just gone. Lost in it all over again.June in the backseat, her thighs spread wide over mine, that skirt bunched up high, her heat seeping right through my jeans, warm and wet before I even pushed inside her. The way she’d said my name, low and desperate, like it hurt and felt so good at the same time.Those marks I’d left on her skin, dark little bruises from my fingers gripping too tight, claiming her even if it was only for those few hours. And that whisper right against my mouth, “We’re going to hell,” just as she came undone around me, clenching so hard it pulled everything out of