Bad Boy - A Stepbrother Romance (41 page)

I’m standing on his doorstep, my hand inches away from the doorbell. I’m too afraid to ring just yet, so I take a deep breath. It feels good – already better than the stuffy air back home, thick with other people’s expectations of me.

My hand touches the bell and presses down, the gesture more confident than I am at the moment. I shrink back from the door, taking a step back like it is going to swallow me whole. I stand a few feet away from the entrance sheepishly, considering bolting before he answers.

I hear commotion on the other side of the door, and I try to scramble away, but the door opens too fast. I raise my eyes slowly, painfully, to the man standing on the doorstep.

His arms are crossed in front of his body, the smirk that used to drive me insane plastered on his face just like always. His skin is covered in rich black ink, the tattoos telling a story I wish I knew.

“Hello, Adam,” I say quietly as my eyes reach his. I’m afraid of what I’ll find in his gaze, but instead of the annoyance I expect his eyes are cheeky, full of naughty ideas.

Typical.

“Well,” he says in a low growl. I want to say his voice has stopped turning me on, but I don’t like lying. Truth be told, a few more words from him and, aided by his handsome face, and that deep voice dripping with honey, I’ll be wet.

Adam is gorgeous, all six feet and four inches of him. Muscled, built like a rock, with tanned skin, brown hair and playful dark eyes.

Adam is also my stepbrother.

“Did the little lamb get lost?” he asks me innocently and I roll my eyes before regretting the motion. I’m the one who crawled to his doorstep, after all. He’s allowed to judge me.

“I need help,” I admit, my voice a little shaky. It’s the first time I’m admitting it out loud, and it hurts to say it. Perhaps because I know just how true it is.

I scratch at the crook of my arm distractedly, and Adam’s eyes follow my fingers to the itchy spot. There are still marks where they took my blood, and my hand is pierced where the nurse put in the intravenous infusion. I try to hide it, but nothing escapes my stepbrother’s watchful gaze.

He makes a primal sound deep in his throat, something between a sigh and a groan. I can tell he’s already angry by the way his eyebrows knit together and his eyes shoot daggers at me. Scared of the onslaught of question, I examine the floor before his house with renewed interest.

Anything to stop me looking at Adam. That’s how all of my problems started, after all.

“You better come in, then,” he says, his voice heavy as he steps aside, holding the door open so I can enter. I look at my stepbrother again, realizing I could still bolt.

I could keep living my life just the way I have been, go back home and get the help I need. But the mere thought of that has me panicking, and I know I’ve already made up my mind by coming to Adam’s home.

With my lips pursed, I walk into Adam’s house swiftly and try to ignore the shivers that go down my spine as I pass him at the door.

He always had a strange effect on me. Guess some things never change. Damn it.

I wander inside the house, barely able to hide my curiosity. My gaze sweeps the interior, a beautiful and quirky mix of modern design and homely touches. The house puts a smile on my face – it’s perfect for him. I hope he is happy here.

Soon enough, I feel Adam’s presence behind me and I turn around to look him in the eye. He shuts the door before showing me inside his house, an amused smile playing on his lips. I can’t quite bring myself to tear my eyes from his and he walks backwards as he escorts me into the living room.

“Well, little sis,” he jokes, and it immediately makes me angry. It’s what he used to call me, and the name has a sour taste on my tongue as I repeat it.

“Don’t call me little sis,” I order him, my voice dripping with venom. “I think we should be over those childish games by now. Are we not adults?”

“So bossy and grown-up,” Adam laughs, shaking his head. He pushes the sleeves of his shirt up, revealing thick biceps with gorgeous, intricate ink. I gulp and his eyebrows shoot up which makes me blush.

“Are you planning on telling me what you’re doing here?” he asks, and I know I’ll have to come clean.

I walk over to his immaculate L-shaped couch and plop down in the middle of it, sighing as I re-think my strategy. Obviously, I could lie to Adam, but eventually he’d find out the truth – so what’s the point, really?

“I just got released from the hospital,” I mumble and stare at the floor intently. I can feel the air in the room, thick and cloying on my skin. Yet I refuse to look up, staring stubbornly at the patterns of the wooden floor.

Adam doesn’t say a word, so I feel compelled to go on. That in itself is strange, as I never like to talk about this stuff… Especially not to Adam.

“I was dehydrated and some problems because of malnutrition,” I admit heavily, the words ugly on my tongue. I hate saying them, hate admitting it out loud. I still think I don’t have a problem – I’m just doing my best to keep my job and the life I love.

“You’re not eating again?” Adam asks, and it surprises me to hear the gentle tone in his voice. Very slowly, I raise my eyes until I meet his. His beautiful chocolate eyes which I used to be head-over-heels in love with.

“I guess,” I admit softly, gulping hard.

“Are Dad and Priscilla very angry?” Adam asks next.

My laugh is painful, my throat dry. “Of course they are, they’re losing it!”

“They know you’re here?” he wants to know, and I shake my head, guilt taking over my body. I should have told my mother and stepdad I was leaving – I know they’ll be worried sick. But when I left the hospital, I barely had time to pack. I just took a handbag and some necessities from home and fled, not even bothering to say goodbye to my boyfriend.

I should probably say ex-boyfriend. Fuck. I guess we’re well and truly over.

Maybe it is for the best.

My hands form fists as I think of Jared, my perfect photographer beau. I used to love him. I don’t know what happened.

And right now, it’s too painful to think of our breakup only days before my admission to the hospital. I’ll deal with that when I have to, and not a moment sooner.

“Listen, Tessa,” Adam sighs. “You can stay here, but you can’t pretend everything’s okay. I’m not going to condone you starving yourself.”

“I’m not-” I start to object, but Adam raises a hand in the air to stop me.

“Don’t give me that bullshit,” he snarls. “Look at yourself. You’re thin as a rail, pale and you’re shaking. Don’t tell me you’re eating right, because one good look at you tells me you’re not.”

Ashamed, I look at the floor again, knowing he’s right. I’ve been binging or starving myself, and it shows. I know I look terrible. What hurts more is knowing Adam doesn’t think I’m beautiful anymore.

I swallow heavily, my throat dry and raspy. “So I can stay here?” I mutter. “I can sleep on the couch if you don’t have a room… I promise I won’t be too much trouble.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Adam cuts me off, his voice heavy with annoyance. I shrink away as he gets up. “I have a guest bedroom right down the hall; you can stay in there for as long as you want. But I’m calling Dad and Priscilla to let them know you’re safe.”

“Please don’t,” I beg him. I can’t deal with my mother’s wrath at the moment, I really can’t bear to handle that much pressure. I know I should’ve stayed at home, done the treatment I was supposed to have, but it was all too much.

I turn my pleading eyes to Adam’s.

“Tessa,” he calls me, his eyes dark and stormy. Those eyes which were almost the death of me once – and I’m not letting it happen again.

“Yes?” My voice is weak and shaky, and I start to tremble as he walks over to me, kneeling in front of me on the couch. He takes my hand in his, tipping my chin back with his right hand to make me look at him.

“My house, my rules,” he says. His voice is soft, but I can tell he’s serious. He won’t take no for an answer. Still, my rebellious nature won’t let me agree to anything he says.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I want to know.

Adam gives me a devilish smile and I feel the hairs on the back of my arm standing up. “You’re gonna have to work if you want to stay here. You can help out at the restaurant.”

I stare at him, hard. I didn’t come here to be a fucking waitress. But I know I’m using him, and he probably doesn’t want me lounging around the house for months. Would be good if I kept busy, too.

“Fine,” I spit out, fighting the urge to roll my eyes.

“And,” he continues, and I stare at him with disbelief. He can’t demand more from me, can he?

“You’re going to eat right while you’re here,” he says and I immediately feel my face growing hot. Before I can speak, he goes on to say, “There’s no junk in this house. If you can’t cook, I’ll teach you. If you skip a meal, I’ll punish you.”

I’m gritting my teeth already, pissed with him ordering around. But now, his fingers wrap gently around my chin, looking at me with an emotion I can’t quite place. And I’m already melting, desperate for his touch…

“You have to get better, Tess.” Adam’s voice is gentle, and I know he’s right. I can’t go on like this – it’s wreaking havoc on my health. “I’ll help you if you help me. I can make you love food again.”

I snort and he rolls his eyes, breaking the eye contact between us.

“Well, I can at least fucking try,” he retorts. “I’m not letting you fade away.”

I stare him down, and push my bottom lip out stubbornly, but I know he’s right. If I want to stay here, I’ll have to do what he says. And he doesn’t mean me any harm, really. I’m sure I can find a way around his stupid rules.

“Fine,” I say through gritted teeth, and am immediately rewarded with Adam’s bright smile. For a second, I think he might kiss me, and the anticipation almost makes me pass out.

I want it.

I want his lips on mine, his tongue parting them and slipping inside my mouth.

I crave it.

Instead, he smacks my hand with his.

He fucking gives me a high-five.

“It’s a deal,” he says, the victory evident in his voice. He thinks he’s won, but he couldn’t be farther off.

“Yeah, sure,” I reply with anger before getting up from the couch abruptly, almost making him fall over. I walk briskly down the hall, peeping into one room after another until I find the one with the least personality and a bed, which I assume is the guest bedroom.

“I’ll go unpack.”

“You only have a handbag,” he yells after me with an amused tone in his voice.

“It’s got more space than you think,” I retort, trying to stay dignified as I shut the door in his grinning face.

I wake up from my dream panting and drenched with sweat. It takes me a moment to realize I was dreaming, and then another one to regret it wasn’t real.

Tessa’s skin felt silky and perfect under my fingertips, but it was all a lie. I could never touch her that way - a fact I’ve come to terms with. But seeing her on my doorstep made an old itch even worse.

Fuck, I wanted to take her right there and then. But something stopped me - and I’m not the type of man to fight an instinct.

There was something not quite right with my stepsister. She looked downtrodden, vulnerable, like she’d been to hell and back. Her bottom lip was trembling, even though I’m sure she’d never admit there was something wrong.

She needs help. And my urges would have to wait, as much as I want her under my body... I am not the priority here. Tessa’s health is the first thing on my agenda.

With a groan, I roll out of bed and run a hand through my tousled hair. There is a long day ahead of me, and I plan on taking Tessa along for the ride.

I quickly pull on some sweatpants, not bothering with a shirt. Heading downstairs, I walk into the kitchen to find it empty. It’s early still, but as a chef, I don’t have the luxury of long mornings as a chef. In an hour, I need to be at the farmer’s market to find some good produce.

I rattle the pans and start making breakfast. I’m not too quiet about it either, hoping all the noise I’m making will wake up Tessa.

As I sauté some onions, my thoughts slip back to her. I’m such a pushover when it comes to her. I always have been. As long as she doesn’t know how much she really means to me, though, all is well.

Just as my thoughts reach a dangerous point, a topic I’ve forbidden myself to think of, the very person I’m thinking of strolls into the kitchen.

Perhaps stroll is the wrong term to use. She stomps in, her hair in a messy halo around her head and her expression furious.

“What the fuck, Adam?” she spits out.

“And good morning to you too,” I reply cheerily, flipping the omelet I’ve started making in my frying pan. I can smell the butter sizzling, the aroma the perfect scent to wake up to in the morning.

“Can you not?” Tessa says in annoyance, walking over to where I’m standing and rolling her eyes.

I take in her figure. She’s undoubtedly gorgeous - legs for days, a face I want to cup in my hands and eyes I wouldn’t mind staring into for the rest of my life. But in her long T-shirt and shorts, she looks... unwell.

Her body is thin as a rail, bones jutting out at every angle. Her hair is thin and limp. She is nothing like the teenager I used to know, healthy and glowing with beauty. She is a shadow of her former self.

My mouth is set in a thin line as I take in the girl I used to be head-over-heels in love with.
What have you done to yourself, Tessa?
I wonder grimly in my mind.

Ever since I met her, I wanted to kiss her.

Fuck her.

Touch her.

Have her.

But now, I have an overwhelming desire to take care of Tessa. She needs it, even if she won’t admit to it.

The fact that she makes my cock stir just by walking into a room will have to wait a while longer. What a damn shame.

“Are you going to get ready?” I ask her instead, trying to focus on everything I have to do today instead of the way she tucks her hair behind her ear. So damaged, so vulnerable, yet she is still pure beauty to my eyes. All I want is to take her in my arms.

But she needs to get better first.

Tessa looks up, giving me a questioning look as she sits down at the counter, crossing her legs on the stool.

“What do you mean?” she asks. “I don’t have anything planned.”

“So what are you gonna do for the rest of the day?” I want to know next, and she shrugs non-committaly in response. I probe her with my eyes to no avail; still, she says nothing.

I finish my omelet before I speak up again, presenting it to her on a plate. It smells amazing and I know it tastes divine. I added some spices I thought she might like. It’s egg white only, so she shouldn’t object to breakfast too much.

“What?” she asks uncertainly, looking at the plate I’m offering her like I’ve just suggested she bite a live snake’s head off.

“Breakfast,” I explain simply, and I can immediately see Tessa hesitate. She’s hungry, but she doesn’t want to eat. Tessa’s convinced she shouldn’t for some reason or another, and I can see the internal battle going on inside her mind.

“Can’t I just have a Pop Tart?” she groans, but my face lights up with a smile when she takes the plate out of my hands. I shake my head with a laugh, joining her at the counter with a plate of my own.

She sighs heavily as I dig into my breakfast, and I choose to ignore her as I moan in pleasure. When my sounds get to be too much for Tessa, she nudges me and I stick my tongue out at her.

“You’re an animal,” she tells me plainly and I open my mouth to reveal a mouthful of half-chewed up omelet.

“Gross!” Tessa complains, rolling her eyes, but I choose to ignore it and instead go put my plate away. A quick look at my stepsister’s omelet tells me she’s cut up a few pieces, placed them around the plate, but hasn’t eaten a single bite. I decide not to say anything just yet.

I turn my back to her and start washing the dishes while she cuts her food. “Can you hurry up with that?” I ask her calmly. “I need to wash this so I can get to work.”

“Sure.” Tessa’s voice seems small and nervous, and I can almost feel her heart beating in panic as she thinks of what to do with the food on her plate. “Where can I put the leftovers?”

“Just eat it all,” I say calmly. “It’s not much, anyway.”

She’s quiet and I can feel the inner turmoil going on inside of her. I have no idea what’s about to happen, but the muscles on my arms tense as I do the rest of the washing up. I know I’m being a total dick, and truth be told, I know nothing about her condition.

How the fuck should I? I deal with food in my job, eating is my profession. I like to keep my body lean and strong by hitting up the gym, but that doesn’t mean I don’t enjoy a mouth-watering, cheesy burger. Looking at Tessa, I would say that’s not the case with her.

I know nothing about her condition. I don’t understand how she’s come to hate food, but I’m determined to change that fact. She won’t be eating junk in my house, either. No fucking way. My first mission is to get Tessa healthy and back on her feet.

She walks over to me and my body tenses with her presence. It’s like I’m on full alert, desperate for her hands on my scorching skin. I want her so fucking badly.

I raise my eyes slowly until they meet her baby blues. Gorgeous, she’s gorgeous.

“Finished?” I ask with a cheeky grin and she gives me a look of pure resentment as she passes me the plate.

There are a few olives on it, but otherwise, the plate is empty. I’m shocked that she actually ate everything, but I try not to let it show.

“I don’t like olives,” she tells me awkwardly, but a look at her eyes lets me know she’s kind of proud of herself, too. It makes me wonder how long it has been since she’s had a proper goddamn meal.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” I say with a smile, scraping the olives into the trash and then washing her plate. I can feel Tess moving away, her presence quickly replaced by a strange coldness on my skin.

“I’ll be in my room,” she tells me over her shoulder.

“Yeah, don’t take too long.” My response is easy, but she immediately turns around and walks back to me. Hell, she’s all fire, standing this close to me. I have to watch I don’t get burned, but the flames of her skin sure are tempting.

“Why?” Tessa asks suspiciously. “I told you I don’t have plans.”

“But I do.” I rinse my hands of the soapy water, using a kitchen towel to dry them off as I grin at her. “You promised you’d help me out, right?”

Her nod is reluctant, but I’m not letting it get to me. I smile and walk closer to her. Tessa immediately tenses, her eyes looking at my naked torso. Shit, her eyes alone make me feel too good, like soft butterfly kisses.

I can tell she’s taking in my body and I flex involuntarily, enjoying the way it makes her eyes widen. Goddamn it, Tessa Silver is going to be the death of me.

As if that’s not a fact I’ve known since I met her.

“We’re going to the farmer’s market,” I tell her, trying to ignore the burning in my throat, my body urging me to kiss her. “I have to look at some produce, get some recipes going for the restaurant’s menu. Be ready in thirty minutes, okay?”

“But I don’t want to go,” Tessa whines. She gives me a pleading look. Puppy eyes. Fuck, how am I supposed to resist that?

“Too bad,” I say with a wide grin, thankful my body still obeys my mind. Be it the other way around, and I’d be screwed. “I’ll meet you outside the building then.”

Before she has time to object I walk away, locking myself in the bathroom. I lean against the door with a heavy sigh. This is going to be difficult.

A cold shower might be exactly what I need... especially judging by the raging hard-on that’s dominating my sweatpants at the moment.