All Chapters of CRAVING MY FORBIDDEN STEPBROTHER: Chapter 131 - Chapter 137

The after party is at Connor's house because Connor's parents are in Europe and Connor has a pool and no supervision and three hundred dollars' worth of cheap alcohol that he bought with his older brother's ID.The music is loud. The pool is full. Someone has strung fairy lights between the trees and the whole backyard looks like a movie about teenagers who don't know yet that this is the last time they'll all be in the same place at the same time.Cain is talking to Toby from history by the grill. I'm sitting on the edge of the pool with my feet in the water and Zara on my side with her third drink in her hand."I'm going to miss this," she says. She's leaning against an empty chair, watching the party. "All of us. In the same zip code.""You wouldn't be so far, Zar.""I know. But it's different." She looks at the pool. At the people in it, splashing, yelling, being young and loud and temporary. "After tonight we're real people. With real lives. That's terrifying.""We were always re

Ryan is beside me now. Watching Amelia yell at Cain with the serene expression of a man who has seen this show many times. He nudges my shoulder with his."She cried for an hour when she saw the text," he says quietly. "Called her mom. Called his mom's grave. Planned three versions of your engagement party before I got her to eat dinner.""She called his mom's grave?""Left a voicemail on the cemetery's general line. Said Mrs. Russo, your son did good and I'm going to make sure the wedding is perfect. The groundskeeper called back very confused."I laugh so hard my ribs hurt. Ryan grins, that steady quiet grin, and bumps my shoulder again."Missed you, Reed.""Missed you too.""You good? Actually good? Not performing good?"I look at him. Ryan has always done this. Cut through the social layer with one clean question. No buildup. No circling. Just are you actually okay delivered like he genuinely wants the answer and has time to wait for it."Actually good," I say. "For real this time

The arena is loud and bright and packed.Cain's name is on the banner above the entrance. RUSSO in block letters. The sight of it still does something to my chest every time, this boy from a pool house and a betting game and a kitchen where we circled each other for years, his name on a building, his fists carrying a career, his body doing the thing it was always meant to do.I have a seat ringside. I always have a seat ringside. The other fighters' wives and girlfriends sit further back. I sit where he can see me between rounds when his corner wipes the sweat from his face and squeezes water into his mouth and he looks past all of them and finds me.The fight starts. I press my bag against my side where the test is zipped into the inner pocket and I watch him.He fights the way he loves. Total commitment. No half measures. His body moving with the precision and violence that boxing demands, each punch delivered with the full weight of a man who decided years ago what he was fighting

My mother walks me down the aisle.Not Marcus. Not both of them. My mother. Because my father isn’t here and the person who raised me in his absence, who made pasta and gave love and got it wrong sometimes and got it right more often and drove to a hospital in the shirt she sleeps in, that person is the one whose arm belongs through mine.We walk. Bare feet on sand. The guests stand. The ocean sounds like what the ocean always sounds like, indifferent and eternal and perfect.I look at the chairs as I pass. Amelia, sobbing openly, waving a handkerchief. Ryan, eyes wet, arm around her. Faces from college, from the dance studio, from Cain’s gym. Cain’s coach with his arms crossed and his chin trembling.And in the last row, on the edge, Tyler.He’s sitting with his shoulders straight and his jaw squared and he looks different from the last time I saw him. Broader. Older. His hair is shorter and his face has lost the boyishness and what replaced it is something solid and still. He nods a