STEPBROTHER Love 1 (5 page)

She was alone when that truck hit her head on.  She stayed conscious until we made it to the hospital, and then she’d died.

There were a lot worse things than a divorce.

I felt my stomach lurch.  I ran my hand over my brow and found it sweaty and clammy.

I rushed to the bedroom door, turned down the hallway and started opening doors.  Bedroom, closet… finally I opened the door to the bathroom.  I barely made it to the toilet, disgorging the contents of my stomach in long, foul tasting streams. 

The door opened and someone stepped into the bathroom.  Water ran and then something cold settled on the back of my neck. 

“At least you puked in the toilet,” Cali said.  “Much easier to clean up that way.”

“Go… away.”

Silence.  And then she sighed.

“Why are you puking?”

I couldn’t believe she was asking me stupid shit like this.  I just wanted her to go away. 

“I mean,” she droned on, “you have a flask and all, so why are you sick?  I thought that happened the first time you got drunk.”

Great, I’m puking my guts out in enemy territory and she’s pulling her goody-goody act on me.

Then her eyes shot open and she stared at me in open mouthed astonishment.

“That was the first time you drank, isn’t it?”

Jesus-fucking-Christ!

“I thought…” I tasted bile in the back of my throat.  “I asked you to…
go away
.”

She patted my back and I felt this strange warmth radiate from her, like she knew what I was going through.

“When you can pry yourself away from the toilet, I’ll have the couch made up for you.  And there are a couple little cans of Canada Dry ginger ale in the fridge.  It’ll help with the nausea.”

Cali stood up and walked out of the bathroom, closing it with a gentle click.

I swallowed, my throat raw.  I stared at the door, as if I could still see her.

“I really missed you,” I said, my voice a hoarse whisper.

And I did.  More than I could ever tell her.

Chapter 8

Cali

In the six months since my graduation party, mom and Paul reconciled.  Mom moved back in with Paul.  And I didn’t have to do a thing: they just packed up my stuff and moved it back into my old room at Paul’s house.  It was all there when I drove home for winter break—it was strange but so familiar.  The little house mom and I lived in in Charlotte never really felt like home, not like Paul’s house had.

The two lovebirds had a surprise for me when I got home.

They were getting married…
again
… two weeks before Christmas.

I thought that maybe they were rushing things… but another part of me was thrilled.  My mom and dad were going to be together again.  Everything would be right with the world again.

As usual, Joshua wasn’t going to be back until the big day.  He’d probably be off again to some party destination right after, leaving me to myself, since the lovebirds were honeymooning in the Cayman Islands for two weeks.

Mom said they’d be home from their honeymoon two days before Christmas.

They had the reception scheduled for the Hastings Grand, a mid-scale banquet hall that boasted a separate, staffed gymnasium/fun room to keep the children busy while the grownups ate and drank and danced to some really old music.

The nuptials were going to be at the Calvary Methodist Church on West Broad Street.

It was where they’d been married the first time, and though they should have rethought the wisdom of starting over again in the same place they did the first time, I had never seen mom happier.

Mom dragged me to the bridal boutique where she had our dresses picked out.

Her colors were yellow and white, and my bridesmaid dress was a tasteful daffodil number with a flattering bodice and a flowing knee length silk skirt.

Mom was wearing white again, even though I’d read that you should wear off white for your second wedding… and this was mom’s third.

But I just smiled and acted happy for her sake.

Not that I didn’t want mom and dad to get married again.  I wanted nothing more.

I just didn’t want to see Joshua again.

It would just be for a day, and then I was certain he would run off to some trendy locale for some party-til-you-drop fun.

But seeing how uncomfortable we’d both been at my graduation party, I wasn’t looking forward to seeing him again, not even for just a couple hours.

Well, part of me wasn’t… the other part of me was breathless with anticipation.

How pathetic was that? 

Even after him getting drunk, being a lecherous pig, and then puking in our bathroom, I still couldn’t stop thinking about him.

If anything, it was worse.  My thoughts of him just became more… more
everything
since I saw him again.  Like HD and 3D.

He missed the rehearsal dinner the night before, which was kind of bad since he was the best man.  I was mom’s maid of honor.

He finally showed up in the morning, just as I was pouring my first cup of coffee for the day.  He wore a scraggly beard, marring his beautiful face.  His eyes were bloodshot, and he was dressed like a beach bum: frayed khaki shorts, filthy old sneakers, a tank top, and mussed hair that looked like he hadn’t combed it in a week.

And he was still gorgeous…

The happy grin evaporated immediately when he saw me.

“Princess… I didn’t know you drank coffee,” he said.

I opened my mouth to say something nasty, dropping the muffin I’d been contemplating on the counter.  But just then he walked over to me, getting so very close, and reached over me to grab a coffee mug. I scooted away from him and was across the room in a flash.

Joshua looked at me, a startled look on his face, and then that look turned hard.

“Don’t worry, princess… I’ll keep my lowly hands off you.  I promise.”

I gulped, not able to pry my eyes off him.

“Make sure you clean up before the wedding.”

That’s all I had to say to him.

I turned and walked quickly out of the room, up the stairs and back to my room, locking the door behind me.

I set my coffee on my bedside table, suddenly not thirsty or hungry… just irritated… well, more than irritated… angry?  Yeah, that’s it.  I was angry.

No, more than angry.

I was pissed.

He’d come so close to me I could feel the heat from his body.

And he’d done it on purpose.

The bastard
.

My stomach turned on me, making the hunger I’d felt earlier irrelevant.  I couldn’t have eaten anything as upset as I was.

I just wanted to go back downstairs and slap him.  That would certainly make me feel better.  Maybe throw my coffee in his face.

I looked down at my cup on the table. It was steaming.

Too hot to do that. 

I wanted to hurt him, not HURT him.

I needed something to take my mind off him until it was time to get ready for the wedding. 

Something mindless and fun.

I saw my basketball lying in the bottom of my closet. 

That’s what I needed.  To shoot some hoops.  To burn off some nervous energy.

And then I saw the driveway basketball court, the place where all our problems had started.

I dropped my ball back to the floor of my closet.  “Bad idea.”

Not only was the court filled with memories so very not useful, but I could run into Joshua anywhere in the house.  Whatever I did I needed to do it here in my room.

I looked over my DVDs and found Tae-bo, Zumba, and Pilates.

Not in the mood for any of those.

I wanted something unfamiliar, yet really hard.

I turned on my TV and the Roku box and found “Daily Burn.” 

I clicked on its thirty day free trial, clicked on a full body work out, and chose a full hour program.

A fierce looking woman with a scar on her chin and shoulders like Dwayne Johnson popped on the screen and started growling at me to get my feet moving, and my sissy arms doing something other than stuffing my face.

I grinned and started to follow the crazy fitness woman’s movements.

An hour later I was sweaty, winded, and exhausted.  The crazy fitness woman had seriously kicked my ass.

I felt a little tingly all over too, so the woman must have been really good at working people out.

I took a shower and put on some yoga pants and a t-shirt.

I could still feel the burn in my legs, shoulders and back.  I kind of appreciated it—anything not to think about who was in the house with me.

I just needed to put that freaking kiss out of my mind forever.

Period.

Forever.

“No shit!?!?” I heard Joshua’s voice as he passed by my bedroom door. “You gave him a hand-job?  Does that mean he’s gay? Does that make you gay?”

I felt my heart pump harder just hearing him pass by.

I even felt fluttery in my chest.

Put that on top of the tingles in my legs and I was seriously starting to freak out.

What if I freaked out at the wedding?

What if I went crazy and threw myself at him?

I gulped.

That would seriously ruin mom and dad’s big day.

I looked at my window.  A trellis climbed all the way to my window.  I’d never climbed it, up or down, but suddenly it started to call to me.

I could shimmy down it, get in my car and be headed back to school in ten minutes… seven if I left my laundry and just took my backpack and purse.

Someone knocked on my door.

I jumped and had to cover my mouth to keep from screaming.

“Cali!” mom called through the wooden door.  “Hurry up… we’re going to be late for the salon!”

The salon…

I opened my door and glared at my mother.  “You didn’t say anything about going to a salon.”

Mom had her hair in a ponytail, her face glowed without a stitch of makeup on, and I swear the tank top she was wearing made her look more like one of my schoolmates than my mother.

I hoped that meant that when I grew older—good god—that I’d age as gracefully as my mother.

“It’s my wedding day, sweetheart, of course we’re getting our hair and nails done.”

I tried to give her an uncooperative stare, but she was impervious to my ire.

“Chop-chop, or I’ll get your stepbrother to come in here and carry you over his shoulder out to the car.”

I hope my face didn’t turn as red as it felt it did, burning with shame.

Because I totally imagined a shirtless Joshua heaving me over his shoulder and…

And…

And smacking me on the ass.

I felt the tingles spread up my spine and over my arms.  I also felt my knees wobble.

I smiled at my mom and said, “I’ll be right down.”

Mom left and I threw my wet hair back in a ponytail, grabbed my purse and made my way reluctantly toward the stairs.

I heard Joshua laughing as I speed-walked past his door.

That made my pulse spike again, and I was pretty sure I was close to crying out in frustration.

Why couldn’t he have stayed away?  He was good at staying away. 

I made my way outside and dropped down into the passenger seat of mom’s new silver Camaro convertible.  Mom was leasing it, but still it was way more extravagant of a car than she’d ever driven before.

She smiled at me and waited for me to put on my seatbelt.

“Hold onto your hat!”

And just like that we were flying down the road, flashing through intersections, eating up the road as we roared down the highway.

I felt so tired, though; I let my head fall back against the soft leather headrest and closed my eyes.  Speed demon or not, mom was a good driver.  I was safe with her behind the wheel.

Chapter 9

Joshua

I should have stayed at school.

I could have somehow talked my way out of this.  I mean, I was at their last wedding… why did I have to be at this one too?

Because it would cut my mom and dad to the bone if I wasn’t here.

Because I didn’t want to miss them “officially” getting back together.

Because I wanted them to last forever this time.

I needed them to.

I took a deep breath and sighed.

Because I needed to see Cali again.

Fuck me…

Two years and I’d been able to keep from obsessing about her.  But let her look at me with those big, beautiful eyes and…

And I lost it.

I hadn’t been able to do much more than count down the days until I could see her again.

I know, I could have just come home and seen her some weekend.  Or I could have just driven my stupid ass to see her at Chapel Hill.

Coulda, woulda, shoulda…

But instead my stubborn, bullheaded ass stayed away.  I played ball, worked out, even started studying—which just seemed to make my professors bug me even more.  Who knew I was good at computers?  Truth be told I’d only used one before for gaming, and the occasional Facebook hack. 

There’s a lesson learned.

I kept telling myself that if I could just keep away until the wedding, then I’d be fine, I’d be over it.

The crazy fucking want and need to kiss her, to hold her, to…

But staying away just seemed to make all those fucking feelings all the stronger.

I even thought about thin airing it, disappearing and not surfacing again until it was all over and the folks were done with their honeymoon.

But by then I wanted to see her so bad that I thought my head was going to explode.

And wouldn’t you fucking know it, there she was the second I walked through the back door, looking all sweet and sexy and in need of a long, slow, wet kiss.

I should have grabbed her and laid a lip lock on her, but…

But I just stood there and let the moment pass me by.

Of its own will my mouth opened and I started talking my usual shit at her.

“Princess… I didn’t know you drank coffee.”

She looked ready to lay into me, so I walked over to her, to throw her off and to grab a mug for some coffee.  Dad always had the best coffee beans. 

And truthfully, I wanted to get close to her, to touch her, even if I couldn’t kiss her.

I reached over her body, letting mine press against hers with the lightest of touches.

I could feel her warmth, and smell her delicious, mind fucking scent.

And then she scrambled away from me like I had the fucking plague.

Jesus fucking Christ
… was I that disgusting to her?

“Don’t worry, princess… I’ll keep my lowly hands off you.  I promise.”

Her eyes were all bugged out as she started to turn and walk away from me. 

“Make sure you clean up before the wedding.”

Cali shot out of the kitchen and up the stairs like the freaking Roadrunner.

Well, there’s a real ego boost.  The girl I like the most in the whole world thinks I’m a fucking pariah. 

Worst of all, it was… it was pissing me off.

No, I wasn’t pissed off.  No, it felt… deeper somehow. 

It hurt.

I shook my head.  I wasn’t a deep enough person to feel like this.

Sure, Cali was deep enough—she read Maya Angelou and Jane Austen—but I sure as hell wasn’t.

I saw a banana nut muffin still in its fancy cellophane wrapper, sitting on the counter where Cali had been fixing her coffee.

She hadn’t eaten?

She needed to eat. 

Just then my cell rang and I saw it was my man Pendleton.  His dad owned a baseball team or something, but he was still just a god ole boy at heart.  He also had the best defensive game in the Big Ten.

I pushed Cali not eating to the back of my mind. 

Suzy would probably take Cali out for lunch, or brunch, or what-ever-the-fuck women did on days like this.

“Hey, my man.  What’s up?”

“Josh-boy, what the fucking hell did you do to Travis?”

I closed my eyes and sighed.

Oh shit…

“What happened?” I asked.

“Well, the motherfucker is camped out on my couch, drinking Pabst Blue Ribbon and crying like a baby.”

Fuck, fuck, fuckity fuck, fuck!

“Did he tell you anything?” Please let him have kept his mouth shut.

“Nothing really…”
—Thank god!—“
except maybe that he offered to blow you.”

Nice…

“I turned him down.”

Pendleton laughed.  “Yeah, I got that, with him boohooing all over the place.”

“What was I supposed to do, drop trou and tell him to knock himself out?”

Pendleton laughed even harder.  “Maybe you could have, I don’t know, told him to put a pin in it until after the Big Ten Conference.”

I held my phone out and gave it a hard look, walking from the kitchen to the foyer, heading for the stairs.

“What, lead him on?”

“Fuck yeah!”

“You’re kidding me, right?”

“Hey,” he said, “I gave Hirkshire a hand-job my sophomore year just to keep the man happy and centered on the game.”

“No shit!?!?” I was just passing by Cali’s bedroom door.  I had to shake my head just to regain my train of thought.  Hirkshire had been the team captain for four years.  He was a legend, and he was over seven feet tall.  “You gave him a hand-job?  Does that mean he’s gay? Does that make you gay?”

“It’s the new millennium,
ass-hat
, I refuse to label myself one way or the other.”

I snorted as I entered my bedroom, dropped my shit at the door and headed to grab a Gatorade out of my mini fridge.

“You’re just fucking with me now.”

“Seriously,” Pendleton continued, “I had to use both hands on that thing.”

Aaaaaaaaahhhhh!!!!!

“Enough!  You win!  I’ll talk to Travis as soon as I get back.”

Silence.

“And?” he finally asked.

“And what?  You want me to let Travis suck me off?”

Pendleton snickered.  “What a pussy.  All you gotta do is lie back on the couch or wherever and close your eyes.”

“Not cool!”

“Just imagine it’s whatever hot slice you’ve been pouting over since you came back fall semester.  That should do the trick.  You’ll be pounding your stiffy right through the back of his fucking head.”

Jesus, had I really been so obvious all this time?  If a teammate noticed, my dad was sure to notice.

Cali…

That look on her face right before I’d kissed her…

Like she was about to smile, about to laugh, about to eat me alive.

“Since you’re such an expert,” I said, trying to get the topic off who I was “pouting” about.  “Why don’t you just throw some of your sexy self his way? You know, take one for the team.”

I heard him choking on the other end of the phone. 

I was tempted to make a “choking/head” joke, but thought it too easy.

I had standards.

“I’ll forget you said that, dude.  I already gave my all for my team.  This one’s yours.”

I bit the inside of my cheek.  There had to be a way out of this.

“Can’t you hook him up with a guy off the swim team?”

“They all have boyfriends.”

“Gymnastics team?” 

He snorted.  “First all straight team in collegiate history.  They’re also ranked dead last.”

“Chess… debate... the freaking school of acting!  Please, just find him someone.”

Pendleton grunted.  “I’ll think about it.  As long as you shake off your pity party act too.”

I rolled my eyes.

“Don’t you roll your eyes at me!”

How did he…

“Just find yourself some sweet young thing while you’re home—maybe an old booty call—and get your rocks off.”

“Jesus Christ, Pendleton!”

“Just saying.” And he hung up on me.