Falling For My Stepbrother On Ice のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 21 - チャプター 30

August’s POVWe drove back home in total silence. My phone, still tossed on the dashboard, might as well have been a live bomb sitting between Dona and I.When we pulled into the compound of the house, I killed the engine and held on to the wheel to calm myself. I felt as though I was going to lose my mind. Dona unbuckled her seatbelt instantly, already reaching for the door handle, but I stopped her.“Wait!” I called out.Her brows pinched as she stared at me. “What is wrong?”“I need you to stay, just for a few minutes. I’m calling Kade and you should probably hear this too.”Her lips parted like she wanted to argue, but something in my tone must’ve convinced her. She dropped her hand and leaned back. "Alright, call him.”I picked up the phone, scrolled through my contacts and hit Kade’s name. The line barely rang before his voice cracked through the speaker.“Augie. What’s up?”“Don’t call me that,” I muttered automatically. “Listen, I got a call today from an unregistered number."

Dona's POV I pushed my bedroom door shut with my hip and leaned against it for a second, sighing. My room looked like it had been hit by a tornado, clothes everywhere from earlier today when I’d been hunting for something decent to wear. My eyes landed on the back of my closet. Right, my old basketball stuff. I crouched down, tugging out a wrinkled bundle of shorts and a jersey. They looked smaller than I remembered, but maybe that was just me overthinking. I slipped the shorts on and groaned. Nope. Definitely smaller. They hugged my thighs way too tight, and the hem stopped higher than I’d ever been comfortable with. The shirt wasn’t much better: it stretched across my chest and rode up every time I lifted my arms. I stared at myself in the mirror, tugging at the fabric like it would magically grow an extra inch. “Perfect,” I muttered. “Overgrown twelve-year-old chic.” But I wasn’t about to back down now. If August thought he was going to clown me on the court, he had another thi

Dona's POV I walked home alone that evening. I didn’t care if August stayed back at the court or disappeared into thin air forever. Anything was fine by me, I just wanted to be away from him. The second I got into the house, I went straight upstairs and locked myself in my room. I pulled the curtains close and turned off the lights, and I absolutely refused to show my face. If he came back, good for him. I wasn’t about to deal with him right now. Thirty minutes later, I heard the front door open and August’s heavy steps filled the house as he moved around. And then my heart did this ridiculous, embarrassing jump, hoping that maybe he was about to come upstairs, knock on my door and pick up the kiss we’d dropped like. Then I mentally slapped myself. “Dona, what the actual fuck are you thinking?” I whispered into the dark, covering my face with my pillow. “Get that nasty image out of your head!” I groaned so loudly it almost hurt. Nope. Nope nope nope. I wasn’t doing this. I wasn’

Dona's POV If silence could win an award for being awkward, the one sitting between me and August in that car would’ve taken home the trophy. I kept my eyes on the window, counting streetlights just to stop myself from snapping at him for existing. The car hummed softly as we drove through our neighborhood, the headlights brightening the dark. I could still smell the faint hospital scent holding on to my clothes, and Piper's pale face wouldn’t leave my mind. She had tried to play it off, cracking jokes and rolling her eyes, but I knew way better. She must have misplaced her inhaler, but it wasn't working anymore regardless. She needed something stronger. Some kind of steroid therapy, or that breathing-assist procedure the doctor mentioned. Whatever it was, it was serious. August cleared his throat beside me, and I instantly tensed. “Are you okay?” he asked quietly. "You're oddly quiet." “Fine,” I muttered, still staring at the glass. “Doesn’t look like it.” “August, please. Do

August's POV Some days later, I was back on the ice for practice, but my head wasn’t in it. Coach’s whistle kept making my teeth grind. Every play I tried went wrong. I knew my passes were way too slow and my shots were off target. The puck might as well have been a bar of soap. “Reynolds!” Coach’s voice boomed across the rink. “Are you skating for cardio?” “Sorry, Coach,” I muttered, lining up again as the other guys chuckled at Coach's joke. “Don’t be sorry. Be better!” The guys laughed again, and I didn’t have to look to know Caleb was leading the pack. He was coasting backward near the blue line, that smug grin of his slapped on his face. “Hey, Captain Reynolds!” He called out, drawing out the word. “Are you bringing your daddy’s baggage to the team or what?” The stick nearly snapped in my hand. “Fuck off, Caleb!” He skated closer to me. “What? I’m just asking! The team deserves to know if our leader is planning a family meltdown mid-scrimmage—” I didn't let him finish th