All Chapters of 90 Days In My Bestfriend's Stepbrother's Bed : Chapter 71 - Chapter 80

92 Chapters

START MAKING SENSE

ASHLEY “Go on,” I say. I narrow my eyes at Tessa, watching the way her eyes are filled with unshed tears. I don't know why she even wants to talk to me. For all I know she hasn't been a fan of me since I arrived here. “It's about Caleb,” she mutters, her voice barely rising above the birds’ chirping. “Please, I want you to speak with him for me.” I arch a brow, crossing my arms over my chest. “Why?” I don't recall when I became her friend or a personal messenger. She sniffs, her fingers gripping the handle of her bag so hard I'm surprised it hasn't snapped right off. She lowers her head. “He's not receiving my calls again. He told me not to text him or visit him. He's completely ignoring me. And even if I'm here, I can't go in to see him, because he might ignore me forever for not listening to him.” Wow. Caleb told her that. It's understandable since they've broken up already. But was he that vexed about the accident that he's blocking her from seeing him at all? I don't k

SARCASM IN HIS WORDS

ASHLEY The sudden rise in his voice leaves me both confused and surprised. His voice rose that much just from mentioning Jeremías' name? Has it gotten that bad? Caleb leaps closer to me, his earlier expression shifting to that of a wounded kitten. “I didn't mean to say it like that,” he says, his voice now calm. But you can't go. You absolutely cannot go.” “Why?” “Because… if you go, I'll be alone. Aunty is also going to his game and my dad is not around. I'm alone already, Ash.” I bend to grab my jeans jacket and purse from the bottom of the bed. Then, I slip it on over my dark blue, slim sleeves crop top and hang my purse on my shoulder. “I'm sorry, Caleb. But I want to go. I'm bored staying at home all the time. And I already promised Jeremías that I'll be there. Besides, you can come with me.” He scoffs lightly. “You still talk with Jeremías? Even after the torture he put me through yesterday?” I glance down at his legs. The swell is reducing. Also, I still can't question

NOSE BLEED

ASHLEY I sit in the top six rows, watching Jeremías, smiling freely. The gymnasium is a chaos of squeaking sneakers and the roaring of the crowd. My heart thumps against my chest as I watch the game. There are fifteen minutes left until the game ends and Jeremías’ team—the Hoots—are winning against the opponent team with a 12-9 lead.I watched as Jeremías had arched the ball perfectly through the net from behind the basket, earning three points for his team. André is also as swift and perfect as Jeremías during gameplay. He had perfectly put the ball through the net three times, scoring two points each for the team. My voice is already hoarse from cheering for both Jeremías and André, my hands clasped tightly together. It's an extremely difficult match; each time struggling desperately to score through the net before the time runs out. Now, with only five minutes left, the game tightens. The opposite team makes a shot, bringing the score to 12-11. The atmosphere in the room is

ANTIDEPRESSANT

ASHLEY Jeremías' grip on my arms is firm, holding me in place. I pause, frowning at him. “What? Why?” He glances down at his soiled shirt, then back at my rumpled face. “I'm dirty. I don't want your…” His gaze drags down to my top that perfectly shows the curves of my breasts, “your beautiful self to get soiled.” I pull my arms away from his grip, folding them across my chest. “Right. But you just missed what would have been a perfectly great hug. I won't volunteer to do it ever again” A small but visible smile appears across his lips. In a swift motion, he takes off his jersey with one hand, squeezing it in his hands. “I'm sorry rainbow. Have a go again.” His tone is soft and teasing. I turn to my side, rolling my eyes. “It's obviously too late now.” Jeremías doesn't say another word. I could feel his gaze on me, dragging down my body. It's like his gaze is feeling physical on me. He suddenly slides his palm into mine, leading me out of the dressing room. “Let's go home.

IT'S ALREADY DARK

ASHLEY I lean in closer, my eyes locking onto the label beneath the fake one. It is Doxepin. A tricyclic antidepressant used to calm the nervous system. It would have made sense if it were for the way basketballers run and jump, making their nervous system run fast. But this is an antidepressant. And it had nothing to do with playing basketball. This is something else; something personal. I turn the bottle upside down and unscrew the cap. Only one white pill falls into my palm. I put it back and screw the cap. The pill rattles against the plastic bottle as I turn it to stare at the label again. Why is Jeremías taking this? What's wrong with him? Depression? Really? The words feel too heavy in my head as I think about it. Yes, he doesn't talk much or act like he's interested in even little matters, but still, depression? Why? Is anyone in his family or André even aware that he's taking antidepressants? Or did he hide it from everyone else the same way he's deciding to hide

MY GIRL

ASHLEY Jeremías doesn't smile. He just looks at me, amusement laced in his expression. “It's not an option, boo.” But I still ignore him. I shift, planting my feet on the rug, forcing myself to hold my stance even if Jeremías tries to pull me. “What are we, Jeremías?” I suddenly ask, wanting to get clarity. “You said I was yours, right?” “You are mine. My muse,” he says, his tone absolute. There's no play in his expression or a hint of teasing in his words. “Then as yours, I want to be more than your stepbrother's best friend or a loyal sex partner.” A slow smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth, but it doesn't last three seconds before disappearing. His eyes remain unreadable even in this minute. “Loyal? Sure. But best friend?” He repeats, his voice dropping low. “You think that's how I see you?” I shrug, keeping my hands rigid at my sides. How he sees me might be even worse than what I just said. Except a sex partner, a loyal dog who runs back to him after every fight or

HIDING SOMETHING

ASHLEY He doesn't turn to face me, but I watch his back as he pauses on the stairs. I see the muscles around his jaw shift slightly. I see a flicker of movement—smirk, maybe—at the corner of his mouth. I could have sworn he is smiling, but I don't have proof for it. He's definitely satisfied with the name. He finally moves, ascending the stairs before disappearing into the hallway. I turn back to my phone, my thumb hovering around the screen. Caleb hadn't answered the call. Odd, but whatever. I try again, letting it ring until he answers. After three rings, the line clicks. But it isn't Caleb that's on the line. “Hello, Ashley.” It's unmistakably Tessa's voice. The Spanish accent and mini voice alone gives her out. At this point, I don't know which country has the best citizens known for speaking with a deep accent. But between Spanish and Scottish, I'll go for Scottish for now. I can rarely understand even if they try to speak common English. I lick my lips; an every few

MAKE A MOVE

ASHLEY His eyes lock onto mine, dim and light as if he is trying to peer through my skull and fully read the frantic thoughts racing in there. I don't look away either. I love the way his eyes move around my face, slow and steady. It's satisfying to just look at. Without breaking eye contact, he reaches out, his hands sliding into mine. He interlaces our fingers, his grip firm and cool. “You're real stubborn,” he murmurs, his voice vibrating and calm. “You should have given me a heads up first.” My lips curl up in a soft smile again, my eyes fixed on him as he uses his thumb to rub the back of my hand gently, while still gripping me. “You're gonna have to get used to it and expect more. It's a relationship package.” His expression softens further, his face etched with a mix of defeat and a strange warmth. He guides me down the lit hallway, his steps steady so I can always be at the same pace with him. We walk past two doors, stopping at the second to last door towards the

INSANELY APPEALING

ASHLEY Jeremías reaches out, his fingers caressing my right cheek before moving to my hair. He smoothens it gently, his touch comforting as he does it. “Go to sleep, little one,” he says, his voice low in the quiet room. “Nothing is gonna happen. No one is going to make a move.” I put, frowning sharply at him. I stare at his face, highly unimpressed by his words. He isn't even showing any sign of restraint. He really isn’t going to make a move on me. “Go to sleep? Now? Really? It's barely midnight, Jeremías.” He doesn't blink. His gaze just steadies on me, composed, dim and calm. “True. But I just came back from a game and I have practice early tomorrow morning. So, close your eyes and surrender to sleep.” My frown deepens, my state almost changing to a glare. I huff, turning away from him and sliding towards the edge of the bed. I make sure that there's a wide space between us. My back is turned to him. I wish it can say a few words to tell him how much I'm annoyed right no

TRAUMA INDUCED NIGHTMARE

ASHLEY I feel Jeremías' breath against my neck. It has changed. It's rapid, rough and unsteady. His chest is rising and falling frantically against my back. I can barely breathe. My lungs feel trapped, my stomach feeling like they're squeezing the air out of it. “Jeremías,” I rasp, my voice faint from the sharp pain. “Jeremías, release your grip on my stomach, please.” It's futile. I try to shift again, my fingers tugging at his arm on my stomach. But his muscles are taut. It only tightens. My efforts are useless. He mumbles some words I can barely hear even as he's so close to me. The moment he stops mumbling, his grip tightens again and he groans. I gasp loudly as his fingers dig deeper, definitely leaving two days lasting marks on my body. His breathing is erratic, and so is mine. It's like the pain is slowly killing me and I can't escape it. “Jeremías, you're hurting me—” “I didn't… I didn't do—” His voice trails away again. Didn't do what?” “Jeremías, it's Ash

...

5 6 7 8 9 10

SCAN CODE TO READ ON APP