Letting My Brother's Best Friend Take My V-Card

PART 5-CHAPTER 187 LUKE

The hum of the blender filled the kitchen as I forced myself to focus on my morning ritual. Protein powder, frozen berries, almond milk-simple, mindless, efficient. The blender whirred louder, drowning out Francesca's high- pitched voice as she chatted animatedly with someone on her phone nearby.

She'd somehow moved in when I wasn't paying attention- maybe it was one of those nights I came back too tired

to argue, or maybe during the hours I was on the field, grinding through practice. Now, I had purple throw pillows on my black leather couch, as if my place was her personal showroom. I had less closet space, and the entire apartment smelled like her perfume- sickly sweet, the scent lingering like it had seeped into every fiber of my life.

"God, the way I'm blowing up, you'd think I was already five months along, not five weeks, or was it 6 weeks? Doesn't matter..." she whined into the phone, sounding more irritated than anything else. "I mean, when's the last time I even touched a burger? At least I can get me look too big in those photos..."

I clenched my jaw, wishing I could tune her out. The rest of her conversation drifted into the usual spiel: brands, designers, clothes, each detail as shallow as the next. Every word was like nails on a chalkboard, especially at seven in the morning. "But hey, guess what?" Francesca said, her voice brightening. "I

talked to Lucas from the agency, and he swears they'll keep me on with at least three designers. Just need to bounce back fast, lose the

baby weight, and I'll be golden." She laughed, a light, almost forced sound that only grated on me more. "They'd be lucky to have me back with my pre-baby body."

The blender clicked off, leaving an unbearable silence. I poured my smoothie into a shaker, listening to the ice cubes clink as I screwed on the lid, keeping my head down, not wanting to

engage.

of course, she couldn't let me slip out of the kitchen that easily. Francesca

holding up her phone like she was already posing. "We could get a

the frustrated sigh clawing at my throat. I barely managed a nod, just wanting to get out of there. Was this really my life? I took

And as much as Francesca tested my patience, this wasn't about me. It was about the child

do whatever it took to give this kid a better life, even if that meant swallowing down the urge to walk out whenever Francesca drove me up a wall. This was about more than us now. As I turned, heading toward the living room to

PART 5 CHAPTER 187

288 Wouchers.

I couldn't scratch. "Yeah, I know," she

doorway, frowning. There was an edge to her tone I couldn't

babe. Hold up." Francesca's tone shifted back to honeyed. sweetness as she looked over her shoulder at me, tilting her head, her phone still clutched in her manicured hand. I spun around, doing my best to keep an expression that looked interested- or at least neutral. "Yeah? Babe?" I gritted out,

calculated grin she used on the camera, and leaned forward. "Would you wear that dark blue shirt I got you? You know, the Marc Jacobs one?

the eye-roll that wanted to escape. "Whatever you want..." I mumbled, glancing up at the ceiling as if it might help

was halfway down the hallway, smoothie in hand when Francesca's voice drifted toward me again. "Oh, don't worry, babe, I'll get it. Probably a delivery for me anyway," she said as the doorbell rang, her words dripping with that familiar

off as another designer bag or some new shipment