RIVAL'S TO LOVER'S: My Step Brother Is Now My Roommate のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 141 - チャプター 150

STEPHEN’S POV:Dating Hayden still didn’t feel real sometimes.Just in that quiet, unexpected way where I’d catch myself looking at him and think, this is actually mine. He’s actually mine.And then I’d have to look away before I started smiling like an idiot.“Why are you staring at me like that?”His voice pulled me out of my head.I blinked, realizing I’d been doing exactly that.“Like what?” I asked, trying and failing to sound casual.Hayden raised an eyebrow, not buying it for a second. “Like you’re thinking about something you’re not saying.”I huffed out a small laugh, shaking my head. “You’re imagining things.”“Mm-hmm.”We were walking side by side down the quiet street, the evening air cooler than it had been all day. Practice had ended earlier than usual, and for once, neither of us had rushed off.It had been Hayden’s idea.“Let’s just go somewhere,” he’d said, shrugging like it wasn’t a big deal. “No pressure or people.”I’d agreed before he even finished the sentence.N

STEPHEN’S POV:Sleep didn’t come easy. It should have. After practice like that, after the kind of exhaustion that settles deep into your bones, sleep is supposed to hit fast and heavy.But my mind wouldn’t shut up.Every time I closed my eyes, I saw the field and it was not the calm version from practice, or the controlled drills where everything made sense—but the match.I turned onto my side, staring at the faint light leaking through the curtains. My room felt too quiet, like it was waiting for something.Tomorrow.The word echoed in my head like a warning.I squeezed my eyes shut again, forcing myself to breathe slower in and out.The whistle blew.Suddenly I wasn’t in my room anymore. I was on the field.The stadium was louder than anything I’d ever heard, the kind of noise that vibrates through your chest and makes it hard to think. My heart pounded in sync with it, too fast, too loud.“Stephen!” someone shouted.I turned just in time to see the ball coming toward me.It was th

HAYDEN’S POV:The locker room was too quiet and it was not the good kind of quiet either. No. This was heavy and filled with frustration. The kind that sat on your chest and made everything feel harder than it should.I shut the door behind us, the click louder than it had any right to be.For a second, no one spoke.Some of the guys dropped onto the benches, heads down. Others paced. A few just stared at the floor like it had personally offended them.I let it sit for exactly three seconds.Then I said “Look at me.”My voice cut through the room sharper than I expected. It worked as heads lifted and eyes found mine.“Is that how we play?” I asked.No answer.“Is that us?”A few shook their heads but it was not enough.“Because from what I just watched out there?” I continued, stepping forward. “That’s not our team.”Now I had them.“They’re good,” I admitted, gesturing vaguely toward the field. “Yeah. Fast and organized. Whatever. But we’re playing like we’ve already decided we lost.

HAYDEN’S POV:The heat in the city was different this time of year. It wasn’t the oppressive, heavy humidity of late August double sessions on the pitch; it was the lighter, golden heat of a summer that felt like a bridge. Behind us was the finality of graduation the caps thrown, the diplomas tucked into drawers, the tearful goodbyes to people we’d likely never see again. Ahead of us was the "Big League," a phrase that still felt like it belonged to someone else’s life.But right now, in the middle of July, we were in the ‘in between.’ And honestly? I liked it here.I leaned against the railing of the small balcony of the apartment our mum had helped him snag for the summer. It was three floors up, overlooking a street that smelled like asphalt and overpriced coffee. Inside, I could hear the rhythmic ‘thump-thump’ of a soccer ball hitting the floor.I didn’t even have to turn around to know what he was doing."You’re going to lose the security deposit before we even leave for camp,

HAYDEN’S POVThe high performance center had become a landscape of numbers. Heart rates, sprint times, caloric intake, and the ever present, glowing digits on the leaderboard. It was 6:00 AM, and the air was already thick with the smell of recycled oxygen and ambition.I was at the leg press, pushing through my fourth set of heavy reps, when a shadow fell across the machine. I didn’t have to look up to know who it was. The scent of coconut gave her away before she even spoke."Your form is dipping on the extension," Amber said, leaning casually against the adjacent rack. She was in a deep-purple compression set, her hair braided so tightly it looked like armor. "You're favoring the left quad. Compensation for an old injury, or just getting lazy?"I locked the weight and sat up, breathing hard. "Observation or interference, Amber?""A little of both." She stepped closer, offering me a chilled towel from the stack. I hesitated, then took it. "I watched your scrimmage footage from yeste