All Chapters of Can I ride you, Luca?....Craving my best friend’s brother: Chapter 111 - Chapter 120

Emma’s POVThe sun dipped lower, casting long, bruised shadows across the master suite, but the chill of the "real world" couldn't penetrate the heat Luca had wrapped around me.Eventually, the adrenaline faded into a heavy, comfortable languor. We moved like people in a dream, finally untangling ourselves from the navy duvet to deal with the chaos we’d left downstairs.Walking back into the kitchen felt surreal. The spilled Bordeaux looked like a crime scene on the white tile, and our discarded clothes were a messy trail of the fever that had consumed us. Luca didn't let me do a thing. He grabbed a roll of paper towels and a cleaner, whistling low as he wiped away the red stains of the afternoon."I should go," I whispered, watching him work. I reached for my jeans, my heart already beginning to race at the thought of sneaking back into the Lodge and facing Mia’s cold stares or Ethan’s sweet, oblivious check-ins. "If I go now, I can say I was at the library. I can still make it work.

Emma’s POVThe sound of Hannah’s car engine cutting out was like a physical blow to the chest.In the silence of the master suite, the world shifted from a sun-drenched sanctuary to a high-stakes crime scene. My skin, still humming with the aftershocks of the morning, broke out in a cold, prickling sweat. I looked at Luca. He was already out of the bed, his movements fluid and silent as a predator’s. He didn't look like the man who had just been feeding me grapes and laughing; he looked like a man who was about to go to war."Bathroom. Now," he hissed, his voice a lethal whisper.I didn't argue. I grabbed the oversized white shirt—the one I’d worn all weekend—and scrambled into the en-suite. I closed the heavy marble door with a click that sounded like a gunshot in the quiet house. I leaned my back against the cold stone, my heart hammering so hard against my ribs I thought it might actually break through.Thump-thud.The front door opened downstairs."Luca? You awake, you lazy billio

Emma’s POVThe silence in the Lodge had become a physical weight, a thick, invisible curtain that I tripped over every time I entered our common room. It wasn’t that Hannah was being mean; it was the opposite. She was being perfect. Too perfect. Since she’d confessed her feelings for me back home during the winter break—a confession I’d had to gently, devastatingly reject—she had transformed into the "Best Friend of the Year." She was curated, polished, and terrifyingly cheerful, a version of herself that existed solely to prove that her heart hadn't been put through a meat grinder.I sat at the small pine desk in our shared dormitory, staring at a sociology textbook, though the words were just black ants crawling across the page. Mia was in her bed, her back to me, but I could feel her presence—observant, cold, and calculating. She knew what had happened over the break. She loved Hannah, and she hated me for breaking her.My phone buzzed against the desk. A snap from Luca. A blurred

Emma’s POVThe neon lights of the frat house blurred into jagged streaks of electric blue and crimson as Ethan’s question hung in the air, vibrating more intensely than the bass through the floorboards."Emma, look at me. Is there someone else? Are you... do you have feelings for someone else?"My heart wasn’t just hammering; it was a trapped bird frantically beating its wings against a cage made of guilt and plum-colored silk. I looked into Ethan’s eyes—the eyes of the boy who was supposed to be the "right" choice—and for a split second, I felt the sheer weight of the lie I was living. I wanted to tell him. I wanted to scream that I was drowning in a love that felt like a forest fire, beautiful and devastating, and that every second I spent holding his hands felt like a betrayal of a soul I’d already signed over to someone else."Ethan, I—" My voice was a ghost, thin and fragile.I didn't get to finish the lie.The air behind Ethan suddenly felt heavy, charged with a familiar, danger

Emma’s POVThe gravel crunched under Luca’s tires as we pulled up to the Lodge, the sound feeling like a betrayal in the heavy silence of the 2:00 AM air. I stayed slumped in the passenger seat for a heartbeat too long, my body still hummed with the phantom heat of him, my plum dress a wrinkled map of the last hour.I looked toward the porch, and my blood turned to ice.Mia was standing there. She wasn't pacing or looking at her phone; she was just standing, a dark, motionless silhouette framed by the amber porch light. She watched the car with a clinical intensity that made me feel like I was under a microscope."Stay cool," Luca muttered, though his own grip on the steering wheel was tight enough to snap the leather.I stepped out of the car, my legs feeling like lead. Luca followed suit, rounding the hood to stand beside me. He didn't touch me, but the space between us was still thick with the scent of our encounter—the sandalwood and the salt."Emma," Mia’s voice was a low, danger