All Chapters of Falling For My Best Friend's Brother: Chapter 71 - Chapter 80

Dawn’s Point of View My heart is racing, and I feel like I can’t breathe. How the hell did Killian know about my stuffed doll? It was a promise Damian made to me, never to share things about me. He looks shocked as realization sinks in on his end too, like he’s only now understanding why I’ve gone so pale. “How did…did Damian...” “Dawn.” His voice is careful, walking toward me. “I can’t believe this.” My chest is tightening, breath coming in short, rapid gasps. “Just when I think...” I can’t finish it. My eyes start to blur, and he’s across the room before I can even step back. “He didn’t tell me.” “What’s that supposed to mean?” I ask, and he cups my face in both hands, jaw tight, eyes steady on mine. Please don’t break my heart, Damian, I plead inwardly, even though it’s not Damian standing in front of me. “I need to tell you something,” he says, his voice so soft and laced with concern, “but promise me you won’t hate me.”

Dawn’s Point of View“So I take it you and Kill are finally giving this a real chance?” LJ asks me on Wednesday, a week later, as we walk to lecture together.I can’t help but smile, because Killian and I have fallen into this perfect little routine. He comes and spends the night when LJ’s working at the diner, and on the nights I can’t have him over, I go to his place instead. If neither works out, I spend the evening with LJ. I love this. I feel like a different person than the one I was a month ago, and I’m genuinely happy with my life, happy with the way everything’s been shifting into place.“Yeah,” I say, still grinning like an idiot. “I think we are.”“Finally.” She bumps my shoulder with hers.We’re cutting across the courtyard when I spot Ellie and her usual pack trailing a few feet ahead, and right on cue, they start laughing, hands covering their mouths in that fake-subtle way that’s somehow louder than if they’d just said it outright.Someone mutters something about a stri

Killian’s Point of ViewI hate practicing on Friday nights. I should be on Dawn’s couch right now, half asleep through one of her awful romantic comedies, her feet tucked under my thigh. Instead, I’m here, running drills under fluorescent lights with a coach who’s already in a mood.God, I miss her. I didn’t think I’d ever miss someone the way I miss her, and it’s only been since Monday, when she came by for content with LJ. Today only LJ showed up, and I spent half the session glancing toward the entrance like Dawn might walk in any way.I’m so distracted that I don’t see Connor coming until it’s too late. He comes in low and fast from my blind side, catching me square in the ribs with his shoulder, and the impact sends me sideways, skates scraping for balance I don’t quite find in time. I go down hard on one knee before catching myself on the boards, the sound of it cracking through the rink loud enough that a few guys stop mid-drill to look over.“Get your fucking head in the game,

Dawn’s Point of ViewWhen I head back, I find he’s already plugged in a heating pad and left it waiting on my bed, along with the little TV he hauled over here three days ago, insisting he refuses to watch anything on a laptop screen.We settle in together, plates balanced on our laps, some movie playing that neither of us is really paying attention to, and we end up talking about nothing. Even as we finish our food. He tells me about the music he listens to and his dream vacation destination. The worst meal his mother ever tried to cook. Whether pineapple belongs on pizza, which somehow turns into a ten-minute argument I don’t think either of us cares about winning.He falls back, resting his head on his clasped hands as soon as I clear the plates once we are done eating. My eyes catch on the faint scar along his hip when his shirt pulls up, the one I’ve been curious about since the first time I saw it and never asked.“Okay, story time,” I say, poking at it lightly. “What happened

Dawn’s Point of View I know I look perfect. I don’t have to look at myself in the mirror to know that. For a second, I’m tempted to check anyway, but I don’t. It’s something I still can’t bring myself to do, not yet. It’ll drag me right back to that place I’ve spent months trying to climb out of, and I’m healing. I have to keep telling myself that.I finish getting ready with LJ, and by the time Niall arrives, we’re already dressed and ready for the party.“Why didn’t Kill pick you up?” Niall asks, glancing at me and LJ.“He’s on the team bus,” I explain, checking my purse to make sure I have everything I need. “They wanted everyone arriving together, some PR thing.”“Oh, I see,” Niall says, then keeps on driving. When we pull up, my nerves are already climbing, my hands twisting the strap of my clutch until LJ reaches over and squeezes my fingers still.“Hey. You look fine.” She looks me over, adjusting one strand of my hair before I can protest. “Better than fine. You look incredi