Todos os capítulos de Faking It With My stepbrother : Capítulo 31 - Capítulo 40

Asher’s POVThe air inside the warehouse garage was thick with the smell of oil, old rubber, and the heavy heat of the afternoon sun baking the corrugated metal roof. I had the back doors propped open, but the breeze was nonexistent. I didn't mind the sweat. It made the tools easier to grip.Lila was sitting on the edge of my workbench, kicking her legs. She’d ditched the Harrington blazer hours ago, wearing a thin, ribbed tank top that showed off the ink-smudge on her collarbone.“I know how to sit on the back, Asher,” she said, her voice teasing. “I’ve done it a dozen times while escaping campus security.”“Sitting on the back is being a passenger, Monroe,” I said, wiping my hands on a greasy rag as I kicked the stand down on my secondary bike—a stripped-down, vintage Triumph. “I’m tired of you being a passenger. If things go south with Daniel or Sloane, I need to know you can twist a throttle and disappear without waiting for me or the Golden Boy to pick you up.”I gestured to the

Jax’s POVI stood on the roof of the North Wing, the wind tugging at the collar of my shirt. This was my sanctuary—the one place the Sterling name didn't feel like a heavy wool coat I was forced to wear in the middle of July. Down below, the world was still obsessed with the Prom nominations, but up here, the air was thin and quiet.The heavy metal door creaked, and I didn't even have to turn around. I knew the rhythm of her footsteps—a slight skip in the stride, the sound of worn-down soles that didn't belong on these pristine tiles.“You’re going to get caught up here one day, Sterling, and I’m going to have to draw you through the bars of a very expensive holding cell,” Lila said, her voice light but carrying a hint of the exhaustion I knew she was feeling.I turned, leaning my lower back against the stone ledge. She looked incredible in the twilight. Her hair was a mess, wind-whipped and wild, and she’d ditched the Harrington blazer, leaving her in just the white button-down with

Lila’s POVI woke up with the scent of motor oil and Asher’s skin still clinging to me, a sharp contrast to the sterile, floral-scented nightmare that was Harrington Academy. My body felt heavy, grounded by the memory of Asher’s hands, but my mind was already racing toward the inevitable fallout of the front door he’d turned into toothpicks last night.By the time I reached the school gates, the atmosphere was different. It wasn't just the usual whispers; it was a pressurized silence. I could feel the eyes on my back as I walked through the quad, my combat boots clicking against the stone. I wasn't the scholarship girl anymore. I was the girl who had a Biker break into a mansion for her.I was heading toward the art wing when a hand caught my elbow, pulling me into the empty, dimly lit hallway near the dean’s office.“We need to talk, Lila. And for once, you’re going to listen.”Sloane Van Doren looked perfect. Not a hair out of place, her Harrington blazer pressed so sharply it could

Jax povThe air inside the Harrington greenhouse was thick enough to taste, a humid cocktail of damp earth, blooming orchids, and the rhythmic drumming of a sudden spring downpour against the glass panes overhead. It felt like a world apart, a green sanctuary where the polished, jagged edges of the academy couldn't reach us.I had looked everywhere for her. The art studio was empty, the warehouse was locked, and the library felt like a graveyard. But as I pushed open the heavy iron doors of the botanical conservatory, the scent of jasmine hit me—not the perfume, but the real thing. And where there was jasmine, there was Lila.I found her at the back of the tropical wing, hidden behind a curtain of weeping ferns and towering hibiscus. She was sitting on a stone bench, her sketchbook forgotten on her lap, staring at the rain blurring the world outside the glass. She looked small against the massive, broad leaves of the monsteras, her shoulders hunched as if she were trying to disappear

Lila's PovThe pep rally was a wall of sound. The bleachers were vibrating with the stomping of five hundred pairs of expensive sneakers, and the air smelled like floor wax and school spirit I didn't actually have.I sat in the middle of the madness, feeling the weight of the phone in my pocket. The truth about the trust fund was sitting there like a ticking bomb. I wasn't just Lila the scholarship kid. I was the person everyone in this room would be bowing to if they knew the numbers in my new bank account.But I didn't feel powerful. I felt like I was being pulled in two directions by two very different types of magnets.First, there was the vibration of a text.“Jax:Meet me in the darkened theater booth. We need to plan the New York move. It’s a victory, Lila. Let’s celebrate the right way.”Then, a second later, a piece of paper landed on my lap. It was folded into a jagged bird. I opened it. It was from Asher: “Auto shop. Five minutes. Forget the lawyers. Let’s celebrate the real