Lahat ng Kabanata ng Can I ride you, Luca?....Craving my best friend’s brother: Kabanata 91 - Kabanata 100

Emma’s POVThe room was a sanctuary of heat and shadow, the only sound the rhythmic hiss of steam from the central tub. Luca didn't move for a long moment, simply breathing me in, his gaze a physical weight on my bare skin. The contrast was intoxicating: the high-tech, cold luxury of the world outside and the raw, primitive fire burning between us in this hidden cedar box."Lay down, Sweet," he whispered, gesturing to the heavy, heated stone table draped in a single sheet of black silk.I moved like I was in a trance. I climbed onto the table, the warmth of the stone seeping into my skin, and laid face down. I clutched the tiny white towel, draping it over my ass, though it did little to hide the curves he had already memorized.I heard the soft clink of glass. The scent of sandalwood and jasmine—deep, musky, and expensive—filled the air. Then, I felt it. The first drop of warm oil hit the small of my back, a shocking, liquid heat. Luca’s hands followed. They were large, calloused, an

Emma’s POVThe silence of my bedroom had never felt so loud. Usually, the morning before a big move was a frantic symphony of zippers, rustling tissue paper, and my mother’s occasional shout from downstairs about spare bedsheets. But today, the air was stagnant. I sat on the edge of my bed, staring at the calendar on my phone until the screen timed out and turned black, reflecting my own wide-eyed, terrified face.Three days.In the grand scheme of a lifetime, three days was a blink. A rounding error. But in the world of cycles and consequences, three days was an eternity. My mind, usually so sharp and analytical, became a chaotic courtroom.It’s just stress, the defense argued. You’ve moved houses, your best friend had a mental breakdown, and you’re being blackmailed by a socialite. Cortisol ruins cycles. It’s science.But the stone table, the prosecution whispered. The heat. The oil. The way he looked when he stayed inside. You weren't thinking about science then. You were thinking

Emma’s POVThe silence Mia left in her wake was thick, vibrating with the force of her threat. I stood in the center of our shared kitchen, the cold linoleum beneath my feet feeling like a sheet of ice. My hand was still white-knuckled around the keys to the new SUV—my parents' reward for my "perfect" life—but the metal felt heavy, like a shackle.My first instinct was to call Luca. I needed the roar of his voice to drown out the ringing in my ears. I needed him to tell me he would handle it, that he could fix Mia the way he was trying to fix Sophie. My thumb hovered over his contact, but I froze.If I told Luca that Mia was going to "expose the truth," he would ask exactly what truth she was weaponizing. And then I would have to tell him. I would have to tell him that his sister wasn't just heartbroken over a lost friendship; she was grieving a love he didn't even know she was capable of.I couldn't do it. If I outed Hannah to Luca, I would be destroying the last shred of dignity she

Emma’s POVThe interior of Ethan’s car smelled of expensive cologne and the lingering scent of "new car" leather—a sharp, sterile contrast to the heavy, cedar-and-sandalwood atmosphere that usually surrounded Luca. Ethan was humming along to a pop track on the radio, his fingers tapping rhythmically against the steering wheel. He looked genuinely happy, a man without a secret in the world."You look incredible, Em," he said, glancing at my emerald dress as we pulled away from the curb. "Seriously. I think the university air suits you better than the village. You look... lighter."I forced a smile, my hands clasped tightly in my lap. I didn't feel lighter. I felt like a lead weight was tied to my ankles, pulling me deeper into the murky water of my own making. Every pair of headlights that passed us made my heart jump into my throat. I kept expecting to see the black SUV roar out of the shadows, blocking our path like a physical manifestation of my guilt."Thanks, Ethan. I’m just... r

Emma’s POVThe walk from the harbor felt like an odyssey through the wreckage of my own making. Every click of my heels against the pavement echoed like a ticking clock, counting down to a disaster I could no longer outrun. The night air was sharp, smelling of salt and ozone, but it couldn't clear the fog in my head.I reached the edge of the university district, the familiar brick facades of the lodges looming like silent judges. I slowed my pace, my breath hitching as I thought about how I’d ended up here—standing under a flickering streetlight in an emerald dress that felt like a costume for a life I wasn't allowed to lead.My mind drifted back to the night in the boathouse. The night I’d given Luca the one thing I could never take back.Why him? I asked the darkness.I thought about the years of being the "Good Girl," the one with the perfect grades and the invisible boundaries. Luca had been the only one brave enough—or reckless enough—to tear them down. He had changed; I knew th