Semua Bab IN BED WITH HER : Bab 131 - Bab 140

LUKE’S P.O.VAnother buzz erupts, not letting me finish.Desperate to ignore it, I crush my lips against Dre's. But she pulls back and her grip eases off my dick.“Luke,” she says softly, putting space between us by planting her hands on my chest. I sigh, frustrated, my jaw clenching hard. Why now? Why does he always have to ruin everything?“Is it your, Dad?”The moment is already gone, and my chest heaves heavily on top of her.“It’s him. He’s been calling since the day I left the motel. I’ve been ignoring him ever since.”I pull away, climbing off the bed to get my phone that I had angrily kicked away, staring at the same burner number he’s been using to call me since.I look to Dre, then shake my head. “I can’t do this.”“Then you don’t have to,” she tells me. “But you need to figure something out. You can’t keep living like this, watching your back each time afraid he'll come for you again, just because you won’t do what he says.”Dre’s right. And even though I've been

LUKE’S P.O.VI took Dre’s advice. After practice, I hang back on the benches while the rest of the team heads to the locker room. Vincent is still in Coach’s office. I wait for him, eyes fixed on the whiteboard where he’d drawn up the new formation days ago. No one has erased it or made any alterations. My name and number stand out in black marker written in Vincent’s handwriting. FORD 34, and right beside it, HAWKINS 29, written directly over where REECE 01 used to be.It looks wrong; it has always been “FORD AND REECE.” Seeing another name aside his will take me a while to get used to.Vincent and I haven’t been the closest. He damn well hates me, especially after he found out I’d been messing around with his then-girlfriend Ruth. He has every right to hate me, and he does, but he never let his hate bleed into the game. He put it all behind him and put the game first for the sake of the team. I respect him a lot for that.But still, just because he’s trying his best to tolerat

LUKE’S P.O.V Dre looks over her shoulder while I walk a little quicker, falling into her steps. I stay quiet, trying to pick up on her mood since she hadn’t responded to my last text about the date. It took everything I had to send the text. My confidence does surprise me sometimes, because I still find it hard to believe I actually sent it—without the usual fear of scaring her off that’s been choking me lately. I thought about it before class, and the next thing I knew, I was hitting send. Now, I can’t gauge her tone or how she really feels about the whole date thing from her one-sentence response. But from the way she’s looking, I don’t think she likes the idea. The sky hangs grey above us as we reach my car in the parking lot. It’s always like this when we leave school. Our schedules of late line up because of games and practice, so I get to drive her home after her tutoring sessions and my training. I open the passenger door and help her in, watching her for a few extra seco

LUKE’S P.O.VWhen Dre wakes up the next day, it feels like every word I poured into her the night before has finally taken root. She’s being a lot kinder to herself. The weight she’s carried for so long has started to lift. It might take time for her to fully see herself the way I do, the way she truly is—but I’m going to walk beside her through every single step until that day comes. I’m never letting go.She stirs; her eyes are puffy but clearer than they were last night. I don’t waste a second when she wakes. I pull her into my arms. My lips find her forehead, her cheeks, the bridge of her nose, then the corner of her mouth. My kisses say everything my voice sometimes can’t. Then I spend the next ten minutes drowning her in hugs, showering her with love and more reverent kisses, whispering reassurance against her skin. I’m never going to get tired of this—of reminding her how deeply she’s loved.She smiles warmly, rubbing lightly against her flushed nose.“I thought about what

LUKE’S P.O.V GAME DAY The air in the locker room smells like sweat and nerves. Coach Adams paces in front of the lockers, voice booming as he delivers his final pep talk. His tie is already loose, sleeves rolled up, the same fire in his eyes he gets every single game. “Second to last game of the season, boys. Summit Wolves think they’re walking in here and taking our house. You show them today that Westfield Eagles don’t fold. Play smart and most importantly play together. Playoffs are two weeks away. This is where momentum is made!” The team explodes, fists pounding against lockers, shouts echoing. Everyone except Vincent, who sits on the bench, elbows on his knees, staring at the floor like he’s already five minutes into the game. That’s just Vincent. He’s always been quiet before every single game. I bounce on my toes, heart hammering with good energy. As we rise to head out, Vincent’s eyes met mine. He gives me one firm nod, nothing dramatic, but it says enough. I nod b