All Chapters of Off-Side Love With My Best Friend's Brother : Chapter 121 - Chapter 130

DaniThe cold brick wall felt freezing against my hands, but the blood rushing through my head was burning hot. I kept my grip tight on Ross’s jacket, my chest heaving up and down."Answer me, Ross!" I choked out, with tears of rage and confusion blurring my eyes. "Why are you doing this to us? Why were you spying on her? Why were you taking photos of her window?!"Ross didn't fight back. He didn't try to push my hands off him. He just leaned against the wall, staring down at me with a terrifyingly calm expression."I wasn't spying on her to hurt her, Dani," Ross said quietly. His voice didn't sound angry. It sounded hollow, like he was talking about the weather. "I was watching. I was measuring.""Measuring what?!" I screamed into his face. "You left the bar! You lied to me! You told me you were going to watch Blake, but you were lurking in the shadows outside our apartment!""I was at the bar," Ross replied smoothly, his dark eyes unwavering. "I kept my eye on Blake just like I prom

DaniI stood in the shadowed doorway of the university library basement, hiding behind a high metal bookshelf, my heart hammering against my ribs like a caged beast.I watched as my teammate, Miller, logged out of the restricted faculty database computer and signaled to me over his shoulder."You've got five minutes, Calloway," Miller whispered nervously, checking the empty hallway. "If the head librarian catches me letting an athlete use a senior administrator's login, I'll lose my campus work-study job.""Five minutes is all I need. Thanks, man," I muttered, sliding into the chair the second Miller stepped aside.My hands were shaking as I typed Dr. Reeves Vance’s full name into the university's private archived files.Ever since my nightmare confrontation with Ross in the alley behind the library, I hadn't been able to sleep or eat. Ross’s twisted, hollow eyes kept haunting my dreams. Ross loved me. I knew in my soul that my brother loved me and loved Wren. He wasn't acting out of

WrenThe soft, warm glow of the estate library’s fireplace danced across the polished mahogany walls.It was my second evening working at Dr. Reeves’s private brownstone, and for the first hour, it was pure magic. Sitting across the long reading table from us was Harriet, the estate’s elderly, white-haired curator. She had spent the last thirty years cataloging the Vance family's rare historical collections, and her enthusiasm was infectious."Look at this one, Wren," Harriet said gently, using white cotton gloves to carefully open a velvet-lined leather box. Inside rested a hand-bound journal from 1842, its gold-leaf lettering shining under the reading lamp. "This is one of only three original draft diaries belonging to Elizabeth Barrett Browning. Dr. Vance gave me permission to pull it from the vault just for you."My eyes widened in utter disbelief. "An original Browning diary? Are you serious?""I told you, Harriet," Dr. Reeves smiled, leaning back in his armchair with a cup of da

Wren"Save it," Dani snapped, cutting me off with a wave of his hand, his eyes burning into mine with bitter disgust. "Go back to your rich professor, Wren. Because I don't want you."The air between us turned instantly to ice.I stood in the dim light of the quad, my heart pounding so hard against my ribs that I could barely breathe. The sting of his harsh rejection echoed in my ears, but my brain refused to accept it."What... what did you just say?" I whispered, my voice shaking violently. "Dani, please. Don't do this. I know you're upset, but—""I told you to save it, Wren!" Dani snapped, taking a sharp step toward me. His face was twisted into an expression of pure, cold disdain. "Are you deaf? Or are you just that desperate?"I flinched as if he had physically struck me. "Dani...""Look at yourself!" he sneered, gesturing up and down at me with disgust. "Running down the street like a frantic mess, throwing yourself at me, begging for my attention. It’s pathetic! You are so need

WrenLater that afternoon, the campus was quiet, draped in the grey shadow of overcast clouds. I walked through the massive stone arches of the academic hall, my boots tapping softly against the carpeted corridors as I made my way toward Dr. Reeves’s office.I stopped outside the heavy oak door, took a deep breath to center myself, and knocked lightly."Come in," Dr. Reeves’s smooth, cultured voice called out from within.I pushed the door open and stepped into the warm room. It smelled familiar, like expensive leather, polished mahogany, old paper, and his subtle, refined cologne. Dr. Reeves was sitting at his grand desk, scanning a stack of fellowship documents. The moment he looked up and saw me, a warm, professional smile illuminated his face."Ah, Wren. Wonderful timing," he said, setting his fountain pen down on a blotter. "I was actually just about to send you a message to see how your analysis on the Vance manuscripts was coming along."He stood up and walked around the front