Todos os capítulos de Faking It With My stepbrother : Capítulo 21 - Capítulo 30

Jax's POV “I’m not sure what’s more dangerous, Sloane—the fact that you’re standing on my doorstep in the middle of a thunderstorm, or the fact that I’m actually considering letting you in.”I pulled the door wider, the cool, damp air of the Silvercrest night rushing into the foyer. Sloane stood there, looking nothing like the porcelain ice queen who had tried to dismantle Lila in the gymnasium. Her blonde hair was damp, clinging to the lapels of a trench coat that looked far too thin for the weather. Her eyes were red-rimmed, her usual mask of Manhattan perfection cracked down the middle.“Jax,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “I didn’t know where else to go. My father… he’s in one of his moods. He’s furious about the Hartley merger falling through, and he’s taking it out on everyone. I couldn’t stay there.”I felt a familiar, annoying tug of protective instinct. We had grown up together; I knew exactly what a 'mood' from a Van Doren patriarch looked like. My parents were in the

Lila’s POV“If you’re going to buy a girl a sanctuary, you might want to make sure the floor is waterproof, because I’m about ten seconds away from making a very expensive mess.”The Silvercrest air was crisp, but the interior of Jax’s sleek black Audi smelled like leather and whatever insanely expensive cologne he wore that made my brain short-circuit. He’d been acting weird all morning—not 'I’m-keeping-a-secret-from-Sloane' weird, but 'I’ve-done-something-ridiculous-for-you' weird.“Jax, if you’re taking me to another country club, I’m going to start biting people,” I warned, clutching my battered messenger bag.“Trust me, Lila. For once, I’ve actually listened to what you want, rather than what my father thinks you should have,” he said, his eyes flicking to me with a warmth that made my stomach do a slow, lazy somersault. He reached over, his hand settling on my thigh, his thumb tracing small, possessive circles through the fabric of my jeans.He pulled up in front of an old, ivy-

Lilas pov"If jealousy were a perfume, Sloane, you’d be wearing enough of it to trigger a hazardous materials alert.”The air in the center of the warehouse was still vibrating from our three-way waltz, but the bubble burst the second I stepped away from Asher and Jax. I headed toward the makeshift bar for a glass of something that wasn't adrenaline, but I didn't even make it past the row of vintage Ducatis before a shadow blocked my path.Sloane Van Doren didn't look like an ice queen anymore. She looked like a live wire about to snap."You really have no shame, do you?" she hissed, her voice low so the surrounding snobs couldn't eavesdrop. She stepped into my space, the scent of her expensive lilies clashing with the warehouse’s musk. "To drag them into this… this circus? You’re turning two of the most powerful names in the country into a punchline for a TikTok trend."I took a slow sip of my lukewarm cider, leaning back against the chrome of a bike. "Actually, Sloane, I think I’m t

Jax’s POVThe Harrington Library at 1:00 AM felt less like a center for learning and more like a mausoleum for dead dreams. The air was stale, smelling of ancient parchment and the lingering scent of floor wax. I moved through the stacks with the silent precision I’d honed sneaking out of my parents' Manhattan penthouse, my eyes scanning the shadows for a flash of navy blue or a mess of dark hair.I was drowning in guilt. The dance with Sloane at the Biker Ball had been a strategic move—a way to pacify the families—but the look on Lila’s face before she disappeared with Asher had haunted me for the last four hours. I didn't want to be the man who played it safe anymore.I found her in the Restricted Section, tucked behind a rolling mahogany ladder near the pre-Renaissance texts. She was sitting on the floor, her back against a shelf, staring at a blank page in her sketchbook.“You’re hard to find when you don’t want to be caught,” I whispered.Lila didn't look up. She just traced the

Asher’s POV“If I wanted to see a display of spineless behavior, I would’ve stayed in the museum looking at the mollusks; I didn't think I’d find it in a locker room at Harrington.”I was fuming. The museum trip had been a disaster, and the sight of Lila choosing Jax’s "sensible" path over my bike felt like a lead weight in my gut. I was stalking through the hallway after hours, my boots echoing against the linoleum, heading toward Lila’s locker. I had her favorite charcoal pencils in my pocket—a peace offering for being an ass earlier—but when I reached her locker, it wasn't locked properly.It was cracked open just a sliver.I reached out to close it, but a piece of heavy, cream-colored stationery caught my eye. It was expensive. It smelled like the Sterling estate. I pulled it out, my jaw tightening as I recognized Jax’s neat, effortless cursive.“Lila, New York is the only place we can truly be us. I’ve already started looking at the apartments near NYU. Just say the word, and we