Semua Bab Can I ride you, Luca?....Craving my best friend’s brother: Bab 41 - Bab 50

Emma’s POVThe Monday night rowing mixer at The Anchor was a tradition I usually managed to avoid, but Tyler was insistent. After the library incident, I was desperate to prove to myself—and to the world—that I belonged in the light with him, not in the shadows with Luca.The pub was packed with athletes, the air thick with the smell of fried food and cheap beer. I felt like a fraud in my high-waisted jeans and a soft cream sweater, my hand tucked firmly into Tyler’s as he led me toward the back booths where the "inner circle" sat."Guys, you remember Emma," Tyler announced, his voice booming with pride.A guy with messy sandy hair and a relaxed grin looked up from his pint. This was Ryan Blake, Luca’s rowing partner and best friend. Unlike the other guys who just gave a nod, Ryan’s eyes lingered on me for a second too long—not in a creepy way, but with a sharp, effortless curiosity."The famous Emma Reed," Ryan said, his voice easygoing. "I’ve heard Tyler mention you once or twice..

Emma’s POVThe grease from the fries felt like lead in my stomach. Every laugh from the living room sounded like a taunt, and the image of Sophie whispering into Luca’s ear was burned into the back of my eyelids. I needed air, or at least a moment where I wasn't being watched by Hannah’s protective eyes or Mia’s curious ones."I need to use the restroom," I murmured, sliding off the kitchen stool."Upstairs, first door on the right," Hannah called out, her mouth full of chicken. "Don't get lost in the hallway—Ryan’s house is a maze."I hurried out, my heels clicking on the hardwood as I bypassed the crowded living room and headed for the stairs. The higher I climbed, the more the music became a thumping vibration beneath my feet rather than a melody. But as I reached the landing, the hair on the back of my neck stood up.I wasn't alone.A shadow moved behind me, swift and silent. Before I could turn or scream, a large hand clamped firmly over my mouth while an arm hooked around my wai

Emma’s POVThe morning air was crisp, the kind of cold that bites at your lungs and reminds you that you’re alive, even when you’d rather feel numb. I stood on the porch of the Lodge, the weight of the previous night sitting like a stone in my stomach. Behind me, the house was a sanctuary of soft lighting and silk robes, a place where Hannah reigned supreme, building walls of "protection" around me that were starting to feel like the bars of a cage.I saw Luca’s silver car idling at the curb. He looked like he hadn't slept, his hair a mess, his jaw shadowed by stubble. He looked nothing like the polished athlete who had been whispering to Sophie Miller just hours ago.I didn't walk toward him. I walked toward my own car, my keys clenched in my hand like a weapon. I had a 10:00 AM study session with Tyler at the student union, and I was going to get there if it was the last thing I did. Tyler was my anchor. Tyler was the boy who brought me white roses. Tyler was the boy who didn't hide

Emma’s POVThe library was supposed to be a sanctuary of logic, a place where the only problems to solve were on paper. But as I sat across from Tyler in our usual corner booth, the scent of old paper and floor wax felt suffocating.Tyler was meticulously highlighting a textbook, his expression one of focused, quiet triumph. To him, the parking lot was a closed chapter. He had stood up to the campus "bad boy," protected his girl, and now we were back to our "Good Girl/Golden Boy" routine."You're on the same page for ten minutes, Em," Tyler whispered, reaching across the table to squeeze my hand. "You okay? Don't let Luca get into your head. He’s just a bully who’s losing his grip.""I'm fine," I lied, forced a smile that felt brittle. "Just trying to wrap my head around these Macro equations."But I wasn't thinking about Macro. I was thinking about the way Luca’s pulse had felt against my thumb when he pinned me against the car. I was thinking about the jagged desperation in his voic

Emma’s POVThe silence in the boathouse was heavy, thick with the scent of pine, lake water, and the sharp, cloying musk of our combined arousal. I was suspended in a state of exquisite agony. Every nerve ending in my body was screaming, focused entirely on that single inch of him that was currently buried inside me. He was right there—the heat, the hardness, the blunt reality of him stretching me open—but it wasn't enough. It was never enough with Luca."You're shaking, Reed," he whispered, his voice a dark vibration that traveled from his lips straight to the sensitive skin of my neck. "You're trembling so hard the table is rattling. Is it that difficult to stay still?""You're... doing it on purpose," I gasped, my fingers digging into the ancient, splintered wood of the drafting table."I'm not doing anything but following the rules," he countered, though I could feel the way his own thighs were quivering against mine. "You're the one who can't stop pulsing. You're trying to drink