All Chapters of Pucking Forbidden Claim: Chapter 91 - Chapter 100

Kade POVLouise lets out another exaggerated sigh, still shaking her head like she’s personally disappointed in my life choices. “You know he’s never gonna let this go, right?”Amelia nods, smirking. “Oh yeah. Rook seems like the kind of guy who’s gonna bring this up at every opportunity.”Rook grins. “You have no idea.”I roll my eyes, but before I can tell them all to fuck off, Louise squints at Rook. “I still don’t get it. What exactly is it about Kade that made you decide to ruin your life like this?”Rook hums, pretending to think. “Well, he’s stubborn as hell, fights me on everything, constantly tries to act like he doesn’t want me, and he’s got a terrible attitude.”I narrow my eyes. “You do realise those aren’t compliments, right?”Rook smirks. “Oh, I know. That’s what makes it fun.”Amelia fake-gags again. “Ugh. You two are insufferable.”Louise still looks personally offended. “And you” she points at me, “have been keeping this a secret?”I shrug. “Yeah, for obvious reasons.”

Rook POVHe exhales sharply, shaking his head, his jaw clenching like he’s trying to find a way to argue against something he knows is the truth. “You don’t get to just say that and act like it’s no big deal.” His voice is quieter now, but still edged with frustration. “Like it’s something casual, like it’s just another one of your fucking games.”I grip his wrist a little tighter, not enough to hurt, just enough to ground him, to keep him from spiraling into whatever thoughts are racing through his head right now. “I never said it was casual,” I murmur, my voice steady, unwavering. “I never fucking said this was a game.”Kade scoffs, but there’s no real heat behind it, just exhaustion. His free hand scrubs over his face before he looks at me again, expression guarded but slipping in places. “You act like it is. You always push, always fucking test me like you’re waiting for me to break. And now, now you just say it out of nowhere, like it’s not a big fucking deal? Like it’s not somet

Kade’s POVBreakfast was loud, too fucking loud, and I barely paid attention to half of what was being said. My mind kept circling around one thing, why was my mom back? I hadn’t even thought about it when she walked in, but she shouldn’t be here yet. She should still be at work.Then again, it’s the weekend. Maybe she actually stopped working so much on weekends?I glance up just in time to see her leading Louise and Amelia away, no doubt telling them to stay out of the way while she talks to me, to us. My stomach tightens slightly, and I watch her go, still trying to figure out why she’s home.“Are you okay?” Rook’s voice pulls me back, and I feel him lean into me slightly, his presence solid, grounding.I let out a slow breath, shaking my head. “I’m sure she should still be at work.” My voice is low, just for him.“It’s Sunday,” Rook says, like that explains everything.“Yeah, I know, it just… feels like she came back for something.” I rub a hand down my face, trying to make sense

Kade POVThe past few days have been nice. No drama, no bullshit, just time to breathe, to actually be with Rook without everything else closing in. And somehow, I’ve watched my mom slowly open up to him.I don’t know what it is exactly. Maybe it’s the way he’s been careful around her, not pushing too hard, not shoving his usual arrogance in her face. Or maybe it’s the fact that, for the first time, she’s realizing he actually means it when he says he loves me.And yeah, that’s still weird as hell.I always thought I was just another thing to him, another conquest, another challenge for him to wear down until he got what he wanted and then moved the fuck on. I’ve heard the stories. Over and over. Rook doesn’t do love.Well, until now, and now? Sitting here, watching him, I can’t figure him out.His brows are furrowed, his jaw tight in concentration, and I did not know he could cook.But here he is, moving around the tiny-ass kitchen, focused as hell, barely acknowledging anything else

Rook POVThe game keeps going, but I can feel Kade getting more wound up the closer we get to the end. The way his grip tightens on his stick, the way his jaw clenches every time I chirp him, it’s all building, simmering under the surface, ready to boil over.And fuck if I don’t love it.It’s too easy to keep pushing him, to keep nudging him closer to the edge. Every time I intercept one of his passes, every time I get the ball near the net, every time I look at him a little too long, I see the frustration in his eyes getting sharper, his patience running thinner.He shoves past me, stealing the ball, and I step up behind him, getting in his space, letting my breath ghost against the side of his face. “Getting tense, Mercer.”“Shut the fuck up.” His voice is low, tight, and it thrills me.I don’t shut up. I never shut up. “What’s wrong? Thought you liked the competition.”He swings his stick, flicking the ball toward one of the kids on his team. “I like winning.”Smirking, I run, catc