Semua Bab ENEMIES TO LOVERS: Bab 61 - Bab 70

Brielle couldn’t explain it, not in any way that made sense. Nothing dramatic had happened that morning. Nothing visible. Nothing she could point to and say, There. That’s why I feel like this. But a knot sat in her stomach anyway. A tight, pulling pressure that had been building ever since that brief run-in with Kayla and her giggling entourage. Ever since Kayla’s narrowed eyes followed Brielle and Jaxon down the street like a shadow peeling itself from the pavement. She had smiled too sweetly, too sharply. And something about it stuck. She didn’t tell Jaxon right away. Not because she couldn’t trust him, but because she trusted him too much and she knew the look on his face would go from soft to lethal in half a second if he thought Brielle felt threatened. And honestly… maybe she was. Now, sitting beside him on the small stone wall that wrapped around the community fountain, Brielle forced her hands to stay still in her lap. He was talking softly, about the newly planted ros

The storm didn’t hit all at once. It came quietly, almost too quietly like the kind of sky that darkens before anyone realizes clouds have rolled in. Brielle felt it before she saw any signs. That wrongness humming at the base of her spine. That shift in the air that told her someone was thinking about her with the wrong kind of intent. She woke up feeling unbalanced, the same uneasy feeling she’d had the night before after talking with Jaxon about Kayla. He’d held her close and told her nothing would happen, he would never let it. She had believed him. But still… something inside her whispered: This isn’t over. Jaxon was still asleep beside her, one arm wrapped around her waist as if his body refused to give her space. The early sunlight slid across his jaw, softening it, making him look far more peaceful than she felt. She brushed her fingers lightly along his forearm. He stirred immediately. “Morning,” he murmured, voice thick with sleep. She smiled despite herself. “Mornin

Brielle had felt it all day that tight, uneasy twist beneath her ribs, that strange ripple of air before lightning touches earth. A storm was coming. But not the kind that carried rain. A storm with a name. Kayla. By evening, the community garden was quiet. Tools stacked. Hose rolled. The last of the golden light poured over the leaves. Jaxon had gone to move a set of new stone pavers behind the shed, leaving Brielle alone near the bench. She inhaled deeply, steadying herself. But her phone buzzed. Then again. Then again. Three alerts in a row. Her pulse jumped. Nobody texted her that quickly unless something was wrong. She unlocked the phone and froze. Kayla. Her name flashed across the screen in bold, smug letters. A message preview glowed at the top: > "I told you he’ll never truly be yours." Brielle’s stomach dropped. She opened the message. And there it was the beginning of the storm. The First Text > Kayla: You really think you’re the first girl he’s love

Jaxon had spent hours pacing his living room, wearing a path into the hardwood floor. Every few minutes, he checked his phone again even though nothing new had come in since Brielle’s last message: Staying at Mom’s tonight. I just… need a little space. Space. That one word made his entire chest tighten. He raked a hand through his hair, exhaling hard. The house felt wrong without her—too quiet, too empty, too cold. The blanket she’d used on the couch was still thrown over the armrest. Her hair tie sat on the counter where she’d left it after breakfast. Her perfume still lingered faintly, soft and warm. And she wasn’t here. All because of Kayla. The image of Brielle’s face when she saw that old photograph wouldn’t leave his mind. He hadn’t even known Kayla still had it, that stupid kiss from senior year, the one that had lasted all of three seconds, the one he regretted immediately the moment it happened, the one that meant nothing. Nothing. Especially compared to what he felt

Kayla had never felt this alive. Chaos was a kind of oxygen she’d forgotten she needed, and tonight finally. she inhaled it deeply. The image of Brielle’s devastated face replayed in her mind like a prize winning moment, a memory she planned to polish over and over again. She sat in her car at the far end of Jaxon’s neighborhood, headlights off, engine quiet. Her pulse thrummed with a dangerous mix of triumph and adrenaline. She couldn’t see Jaxon’s porch from here, but she didn’t need to. She'd already gotten what she wanted. Brielle had seen her. And Brielle had broken. Kayla smiled slow, sweet, unhinged. “You should’ve stayed gone, Brielle Hartley,” she whispered to herself. She replayed it all. The kiss she forced—oh, the delicious tension of pressing her lips to Jaxon’s even while he pushed her off. He had been angry, furious even but that didn’t matter. The moment wasn’t for him. It wasn’t for his reaction. It was for her. For Brielle. Kayla let out a soft, satisfied