The stepbrother I ran from is my new professor. のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 31 - チャプター 40

Chapter Thirty-One— pregnancy scare. ★Maliya's POV★ "You're quiet this morning." Micaiah's voice pulled me from my thoughts as we sat at the usual drop-off spot. I'd been staring out the window, watching other students walk toward campus with their backpacks and coffee cups, looking like they didn't have a care in the world. "Just tired." "You keep saying that." "Because it keeps being true." He studied me for a moment, his hand resting on the gear shift close enough to touch. "Mali—" "I should go. Don't want to be late." I grabbed my bag and got out before he could say anything else. Before the concern in his eyes could make me feel things I didn't want to feel. The walk to campus was cool and quiet. Early morning in Arizona, before the heat settled in. I found Stephanie at our usual spot, but instead of her typical bright energy, she was hunched over with her arms wrapped around her middle. "You okay?" I asked. "Cramps. These ones are killing me." She straight

Chapter Thirty-Three— Elena ⚔Daemon's POV⚔ I shouldn't have been here. The coffee shop across from ASU's main campus was crowded with students cramming for exams and professors grading papers. I sat in the corner with a laptop open, pretending to work, while my attention stayed fixed on the window. On her. Maliya walked past with another girl—the friend, Stephanie. They were laughing about something, Maliya's face lit up in a way I hadn't seen before. Genuine. Unguarded. Beautiful. I checked my phone. Her schedule was pulled up—color-coded, cross-referenced with building locations and class times. I knew she had Statistics in fifteen minutes. Knew she'd grab coffee first from the cart near the library because she always did on Tuesdays and Thursdays. Knew her favorite order was an iced vanilla latte with oat milk. This was insane. I'd become the thing I'd always despised—a man obsessed. A stalker watching from the shadows, cataloging details about a woman who had no

Chapter Thirty-Five— use protection ★Maliya's pov★ His lips met mine in a rush of heat, soft at first but quickly turning demanding, like he'd been starving for this moment as much as I had. Micaiah's room enveloped us—the dim lamp casting golden shadows over the rumpled sheets on his bed, the faint scent of his cologne mixed with something darker, more primal, hanging in the air. My back pressed against the door he'd just closed behind us, his body pinning me there, solid and unyielding. His hands were on my waist, fingers digging in just enough to send a thrill racing down my spine, straight to the ache building between my thighs. I kissed him back, my tongue sliding against his, tasting the faint bitterness of coffee and the sweetness that was uniquely him. God, I'd dreamed of this—his mouth on mine, claiming me after all the tension, the stolen glances, the unspoken desires that had simmered between us for years. My hands roamed up his chest, feeling the hard planes of muscl

Chapter Thirty-Seven— sleeping with my stepbrother ★Maliya's POV★"You look different."Chris's voice pulled me from my thoughts. We were sitting in the quad between classes, him with an energy drink and me with coffee that had gone cold twenty minutes ago."Different how?" I asked."I don't know. Happier? Less stressed?" He tilted his head, studying me. "Something changed."Heat crept into my cheeks. "Nothing changed. I'm just... adjusting.""To what?""Being back. Classes. All of it.""Uh huh." He didn't look convinced. "Well, whatever it is, it's working. You should keep doing it."If only he knew what "it" was.Sleeping with my stepbrother. Breaking about fifteen different ethical guidelines. Living in a constant state of anxiety that someone would find out."Thanks, I think.""So, party this weekend," he continued, shifting topics. "You coming?""I don't know—""Come on. You disappeared early last time. You owe me a full party experience.""I really don't think I owe you anythin

Chapter Thirty-Nine— it's complicated ★Maliya's POV★I cooked dinner to music.Something upbeat and meaningless playing from my phone while I moved around the kitchen, chopping vegetables and stirring sauce. The routine was soothing. Familiar. Something I could control when everything else felt like it was spiraling.Micaiah said he'd be home by seven. It was six-thirty now. Plenty of time to finish the chicken marsala and set the table.I caught myself humming along to the music and smiled.This was domestic. Normal. The kind of thing couples did—cooking dinner, waiting for each other to come home, sharing a meal at the end of the day.Even if we weren't really a couple.Even if this was temporary and probably doomed.For now, it felt real.Seven o'clock came and went.I turned off the stove and covered the food, keeping it warm. Maybe he was stuck in traffic. Or his meeting ran late. He'd text soon to let me know.My phone stayed silent.Seven-thirty.I set the table anyway. Two pl