Stepbrother Bastard 1: A Bad Boy Stepbrother Romance (2 page)

I’m brought back to reality. Something about close deaths humanize a person for me. It’s proof that Ryan has felt deep pain, vulnerability, and heavy loss in his life and that offers me at least some repose toward his usual character.

“My condolences,” I say.

“Oh, I do appreciate that, Grace. But myself and Hattie had been estranged for a while when she was diagnosed.” Walter’s voice drops a few decibels, I assume out of respect for his son. “Ryan was the one that had to deal with it the most. He went to every chemo treatment with her and every checkup. He definitely made me a proud father throughout that time, I’ll put it that way. But then you get the tabloids getting shots of him clubbing occasionally as a release from the stress and suddenly he’s demonized.”

Ryan joins us and takes a seat adjacent me. His presence stops the conversation that’s perhaps a little too heavy to be having with him so early in our strange relationship to each other.

“You doing anything tonight, son?”

“We’ve got a gig in Hollywood later,” he says with his face on his phone. “Gonna head down there soon and set up.”

The real reason Ryan became famous in the first place before he became tabloid fodder is thanks to his band, Golden Ribs, who found success after a one-hit wonder allowed them to sign with a pretty big label.

As he discusses his further plans for the evening, my eyes fall on his hands and the calluses on them from his guitar playing. I bite my lip. It’s the little things I find myself attracted to in a person that suggest character traits that may not otherwise be obvious. His mother’s close death suggests there may be a bone beneath those muscles that can actually care while the calluses suggest commitment and dedication— Positive traits I had otherwise believed this shell of a man to be void of. Has it only taken five extra minutes for me to actually soften up to him a little bit? I deny it to myself for now. In fact, all it takes it remembering those feelings of disgust and shame in myself when that girl appeared at the door for me to hate him all over again.

“Maybe you can take Grace with you, Ry?” my Mom decides to add. “She loves going to see live bands, don’t you, Grace? She went to Europe recently and went to all of those music festivals they have on. To be young again!”
 

“Oh, I
know
how much Grace loves bands,” Ryan says. A blush blooms on my face and I thank God that I hadn’t had time to wipe off my thick layer of foundation that disguises it.

“Go on. It’ll be good for you both to get to know each other better.”

It’s obvious I have no say in this matter. Regardless, it gives me an excuse to get out of the house and find some sanctuary in some old LA friends. “Yeah, fine,” I reply as quietly and unenthused as I could muster.

“
Fine
?” Ryan says. “Okay, wow, cool.”

“What?”

“I meant just please calm down the excitement, Sweetheart. It’s getting a bit much.” He reveals those dimpled cheeks again and I sip back my entire champagne flute. “Another please?” I ask him, tilting my head and smirking.

He obliges in picking up another champagne from the tray and placing it between my fingers. Our hands brush briefly and we look to one another.

“I, uh, I’m going for a swim,” Ryan stutters.
 

VII

The Uber driver drops us and Ryan’s gear outside Feauvers Nightclub on Hollywood and Vine. I look around me to the filth, smells, sights, and noises that make Hollywood the divey and alluring suburb that it is. I decided to change out of my slinky dress into tight leather jeans, a t-shirt and boots, that Ryan seems to enjoy far more according to how much more he’s looking at me— Or rather, my body.

“Help me out?” he says, nodding his head toward his guitar. He collects the amp from the ground and I suppose I have no choice but to assist.

I take the guitar and follow him up an alleyway through the back door into the club. “Caulter, what’s happenin’ buddy?” says the security guard at the door.

“Yo, man. This is my sister, Grace.”

“Oh, no. I’m not—“

“—Sister?” The bouncer interrupts me. “No shit. It’s nice to meet you, babe. You kids have a good night, alright?”

We walk further down the corridor as I try to digest this man I’d once fucked calling me his sister. “Can you not do that again?” I decide to say.

“What, call you sis?”

“Yeah, I really hate it.”

“Well, I like it. Makes what we did that much more dirty and hot,
badder
.”

“Is that all you ever think about when saying ‘yes’ to things? How
bad
they make you seem to everyone else? Because, FYI, Ryan Caulter, that kind of thing doesn’t make you seem
bad
, it makes you seem desperate and lost.”

He drops his amp behind the stage and slides off his leather jacket. “Unlike you, Sweetheart, I don’t think at all how things make me appear. I just do. So, if I seem desperate and lost then you just go on believin’ it.”

A moment later, before I can come up with a proper comeback, Ryan presses his hard figure against my body and holds me. We’re alone in the dark with a single red light illuminating Ryan’s pleasing features. “What the heck are you doing?” I say, though don’t feel any urge to push him away.

“Just doing.” He pinches my chin and leans down, smashing his soft, warm lips to mine own. I sigh heavily out my nose that suggests I might be enjoying this a little too much. He responds to my pleasure and presses his tongue into my mouth. We indulge in each other, knowing how rough we like it. His hand combs through the back of my hair and he tugs backward so my neck exposes to him. I become a little drunk on my own lust and creep my hand under the hem of his shirt until I feel his skin beneath my fingertips.

I touch him for a beat then he pulls away from me leaving me silently begging for more. I should’ve expected it.

“You. Fucking. Bastard,” I say and discover I’m smiling coyly.

“I’ll see you later, Sis.”

“Don’t fucking call me that!”

VIII

I’m left alone in the crowd of Golden Ribs fangirls and dudes cheering for their favorite Indie-Band-of-the-Moment to enter the stage. Everyone I’ve messaged to meet up with tonight is either busy or not responding. That means that I have to actually try endure my stepbrother’s music for the first time since Gabby’s wedding.
 

The lights dim.
 

The crowd bellows out shrill screams and cheers.

Silhouettes of four male bodies enter the stage and move to their instruments.

“Hollywooooood!” I roll my eyes to Ryan’s gravelly tone bellowing out of the speakers beside me. An explosion of screaming and cheers rings louder than before as the music starts.

Ryan is playing a fast paced rhythm on his guitar. I notice that he’s different on stage behind that mic and guitar. He loses himself in the most alluring of ways. I recall when they played at the wedding, it was when I watched his face strained in ecstasy during a guitar solo that I wanted to be his.
 

It seemed I’m falling for his band persona all over again, too. My hips start moving with the catchy rhythms they’re playing and I can’t help but grin the whole time. I suppose it’s fine for me to enjoy myself in the darkness where he can’t see me.

“Another storm and swell in our tide,” he sings through the climax. “Please realize, babe, I’m all in for the ride!”

I lose myself, if only a little bit, to my new stepbrother’s undeniable gift at performing. The strobe lights blink fast, the music swells, I throw my arms in the air and dance along with my eyes closed tightly.

“I’m all in for the ride,” I sing along with him.

Though it will be the unravelling of me.

IX

01:30
my phone displays.

I’m at the empty bar spinning my full glass of beer. The female bartender has given up conversation with me after realizing I’m related to Ryan. She apologized but thought it best due to her opinion of him that she avoid the rest of the Caulter clan. I tried to explain both our lack of actual relation to each other and the fact I sympathize with her completely but, by that point, she’d already migrated to the other end of the counter.

“You coming?” Ryan shouts through the quiet room.

“What?”

“Are you coming or not?”

“Well, I haven’t been sitting here alone the last hour because I enjoy it.”

“We’ve been backstage. You coulda joined us.”

“You could’ve come and offered.”

“Whatever, we’re leaving. You can come if you want.”

My patience has worn thin. I stomp over to him and try my best to stand as tall as possible in front of him. “Stop.”

“Stop
what
?” Ryan says with an awkward laugh.

“Stop treating me like this. I’m not just another girl you chewed up and spit out one lonely night. I’m your sister now and you’ll fucking learn to treat me with some decency. I came to watch your band then I patiently waited for you to be finished with whatever you have going on. The polite thing to do would be to apologize for making me wait that long then tell me where we’re going. If I choose not to go with you, you get me a cab and text me later to make sure I get home safely.
 
On the other hand, if I accept to join you, you will be by my side until I’m comfortable with the situation. Got it?”

It pisses me off even more when he laughs again. His arms are folded across his chest as he examines me. “Goddammit, you know how to drive me wild, don’t you, Sis?” He combs some hair behind my ear and I shoo his arm away.

“Ryan, stop it.”

“You like my music.”

“What? That’s not what we’re talking about right n—“

“—I saw you dancing to it. You looked as good as you did in that stupid bridesmaid dress when you tripped on the dance floor. You remember that?”

Again, my blood doesn’t know how to behave and flushes my face. Exasperated, I squeeze my temples at this impossibly frustrating man who truly doesn’t give a shit about anything. “Can we just go already?”

“Thought you wanted me to get you a cab?”

“I said that if I chose
not
to join you. And I think I’m not ready to go to sleep yet.”

X

The bassists apartment we pulled up to had almost no furniture in it bar a second hand sofa, that looked like it had been through the wars, and a television. I perch myself on the arm rest next to the drummer, Kent.

“So, you and Ryan, how you guys know each other?” Kent asks.

“He didn’t tell you yet?”

“Naw, not yet.”

“Um, well…We are just…We’re old friends.”

“She’s my stepsister.” Ryan corrects me as he plays with some cords behind the television.

“No shit. Stepsister? I didn’t know you had family, bro.”

“My dad just remarried her mom. We only met today.”

We make eye contact and I silently thank him with a tightening of my lips for not being completely honest about our associations. That secret regret is to remain within the bounds of only us, though I don’t know if I can fully trust Ryan to do that.

Kent yawns and as he does so wraps his arm around the back of my ass. It’s been a while since I’ve received obvious signs from guys that they’re into me. In fact, it was that night with Ryan that made me swear off guys for at least a little while. Being treated like a common whore doesn’t exactly inspire you to put yourself out there sexually.

“Alright, we’re in business,” Ryan says reappearing from behind the television. Kent scoops his arm more obviously around me until his palm is against the other side of my thigh. Music starts playing and a few other groups arrive in through the door.

“Boys, boys, boys, look what we brought.” The bassist in the band, Ben, extends his arm to let a harem of attractive LA-type women into the room.
 

“Ry-Ry,” the blonde one whines and squeezes her body against Ryan in an inebriated hug. “Why the
fuck
didn’t you text me back the other day? I waited for
ever
for you to show up.” She doesn’t sound half as mad as she should at what sounds like a shitty situation. Ryan has that effect on us women I guess— We can forgive him, writing him off as a lovable asshole who’ll never learn. And the fact I’m admitting that I fall into that group is kind of alarming. I
have
forgiven him already. Otherwise why the hell would I follow him here after treating me like he did?

XI

I’m introduced to the other women but don’t move from my safe position on the sofa. Kent is now rubbing his hand along my leg and I can’t say it’s all that uninvited. I look down to him with a smile to show him some appreciation. That’s all the hint he needs to stand up in front of me and whisper into my ear, “Let’s go somewhere.”

His hand takes mine and he leads me out onto the large balcony overlooking West Hollywood. The lights and the sounds are all so beautiful. I forget about Ryan for the moment as Kent stands behind me to observe the view. His arms wrap around my body and I lean my head into his neck.

“I was watching you while we were playing. It’s cool how you can let yourself go like that even when you’re alone.”

“Oh, well, thank you. You guys have good music. I probably looked like a complete dork though, huh?”

“
You
could never pass as a dork.” Kent’s warm breath against my neck has my stomach in knots. I close my eyes, feel the cool breeze against my face and let him place soft love bites down my neck. “Ryan would probably kill me for asking you this but would you go on a date with me tomorrow night? Despite being best friends with him, I am not a Ryan Caulter type. I actually enjoy getting to know women.”

I nod against him. “I think I’d like that.”

He drags his fingertips through my hair and turns my head toward him. Our eyes meet and I am able to appreciate his light features. I can’t resist and decide to make the first move. I rest my lips to his and he pulls me in closer. I savor him for a while, enjoying feeling sexier than I have in a very long time.
 

But then…

“I bring my little sister out one time, man?” Kent lets go of me and turns to face an angry Ryan. He’s more serious than I’ve ever seen him. With his mouth drawn in a tight line, he shoves Kent back against the glass of the balcony by his shoulder.