Lahat ng Kabanata ng Owned By My Stepdad(MxM): Kabanata 51 - Kabanata 60

My alarm blared like a drill sergeant at 7:15 a.m.—that annoying default tone I’d been too lazy to change. I slapped at my phone until it shut up, then rolled over, blinking at the empty bed across the room. Luca’s side was made up tight, skateboard gone, backpack missing from the desk chair. No note. No text. Just gone. I sat up slowly, rubbing sleep from my eyes, head still a little fuzzy from last night’s beer and the kiss that had replayed in my brain like a glitchy TikTok loop. Where’d he go? Early skate session? Class? Or maybe he regretted the whole thing and bounced before the awkward morning-after chat.Whatever. I wasn’t stressing. College rule number one: don’t overthink the roommate hookup. Or so I told myself as I dragged my ass out of bed. The room was quiet—too quiet without Luca’s low music or the sound of him typing on his laptop. Sunlight slanted through the blinds, turning the dust motes into floating gold specks. I glanced at my phone: a text from Vane at 6:42 a.m.

The ramen spot Luca picked was tucked down a side street off campus, the kind of place you only find if someone tells you about it. Narrow door, red lantern swinging above it, handwritten menu taped to the window, steam fogging the glass from inside. No neon sign. No line out the door. Just the smell of rich broth and garlic hits you the second you walk in. It felt secret. Special. Like he’d chosen it on purpose.We slid into a booth in the back corner. Wooden table scarred from years of chopsticks and hot bowls, paper menus already greasy at the edges. Luca ordered for both of us without asking: tonkotsu with extra chashu, soft-boiled eggs, spicy miso on the side, and two Asahi drafts. I didn’t argue. I liked that he took charge. Or at least I thought I did.The food came fast. Bowls steaming, broth cloudy and fragrant, noodles perfectly chewy. We ate quietly at first, just the clink of spoons and the low hum of other tables. Then he started talking—easy, casual, like we’d been doing

I was already half unpacked when the door opened.My side of the room looked like a bomb had gone off in a Forever 21 dressing room: clothes everywhere, fairy lights tangled on the floor, my makeup bag spilling lip gloss tubes across the desk like colorful confetti. I’d been blasting Olivia Rodrigo through my speaker, trying to drown out the nervous buzz in my stomach. First day in college. First real roommate. First time living with someone who wasn’t my little sister or my mom. I wanted to look chill. Cool. Like I belonged here. But inside I was vibrating.The door swung open.And she rolled in.Wheelchair first, then her.Dark hair loose over her shoulders, hoodie slightly too big, beanie pulled low, one hand in a cast that looked fresh and angry. Bruises on her face—yellow-green around one eye, a thin pink line on her lip like someone had tried to stitch her shut. She didn’t look scared or small. She looked… tired. But not defeated. Like someone who’d already been through the wors

The next morning started slow and soft, the way mornings should when you’ve got nowhere urgent to be.I woke up before my alarm—sunlight cutting through the blinds in sharp golden lines, Luca still asleep on his side of the room. His breathing was steady, one arm flung over his head, sheet tangled around his waist. I watched him for a minute—chest rising and falling, tattoos dark against his skin, face relaxed in a way I hadn’t seen before. Last night had been good. Really good. Dinner, talking, the way he’d kissed me in the hallway outside our door—slow, sure, like he’d been waiting for it all day. We’d come back, laugh about the party, kiss again on his bed until we were both breathless and laughing into each other’s mouths. Nothing more. Just… nice. Easy.But when I rolled over to check my phone, the lightness in my chest shifted. No text from Vane. He’d been quiet since yesterday’s “meeting ran long” message. I stared at the blank screen for too long, thumb hovering over the call

The embarrassment from the hallway lingered like smoke in my clothes. I couldn’t shake Kai’s voice—low, cutting, “Careful. You don’t want to find out.” It played on repeat every time I walked past a mirror, every time I caught my reflection and saw the flush on my cheeks. I told myself it was anger. Shame. Anything but what it actually felt like: fascination. A sick pull toward someone who looked at me like I was disposable and still managed to make my pulse race.I didn’t want to go out tonight.I wanted to stay in my room, scroll through my phone, wait for Vane’s call that might never come. But Isabella texted at 6:47 p.m.: Double date. Tonight. Me + Riley + Riley’s crush + you + Luca. No excuses. You need fun. I need backup. 8 pm at The Rusty Anchor. Wear something hot. I’m not accepting no.I stared at the message for a full minute.Then typed back: Fine. But if it’s awkward I’m leaving early.Her reply was instant: Deal. See you there, coward.I showered again—third time today—tr