Stepbrother Dearest E-Book

Penelope Ward

• Herausgeber: WS
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2014

Seitenzahl: 378

Beschreibung

A Goodreads Choice Award Nominee for Best Romance.

The four-time New York Times Bestseller that started a phenomenon.

You’re not supposed to want the one who torments you.
When my stepbrother, Elec, came to live with us my senior year, I wasn’t prepared for how much of a jerk he’d be.
I hated that he took it out on me because he didn’t want to be here.
I hated that he brought girls from our high school back to his room.
But what I hated the most was the unwanted way my body reacted to him.
At first, I thought all he had going for him were his rock-hard tattooed abs and chiseled face. But things started changing between us, and it all came to a head one night.
Then, just as quickly as he’d come into my life, he was gone back to California.
It had been years since I’d seen Elec.
When tragedy struck our family, I’d have to face him again.
And holy hell, the teenager who made me crazy was now a man that drove me insane.
I had a feeling my heart was about to get broken again.
Stepbrother Dearest is a standalone novel.

Leseprobe

First Edition, September 2014

Copyright © 2014 by

Penelope Ward

All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced nor used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for use of brief quotations in a book review.

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Cover by RBA Designs. Stock photo © Shutterstock.com

Ebook Formatting by Elaine York, Allusion Publishing

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Part Two

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Epilogue

More Information

Acknowledgements

Other Books by Penelope Ward

About the Author

Cold air fogged the bay window in our living room as I nervously waited in front of it and struggled to see outside. Any minute now, Randy’s Volvo station wagon would be pulling into the driveway. He’d gone to Logan Airport to pick up his son, Elec, who would be living with us for the next year while his mother took a yearlong work-related assignment overseas.

Randy and my mother, Sarah, had only been married a couple of years. My stepfather and I got along well enough, but I wouldn’t say we were close. Here’s what little I knew about Randy’s former life: his ex-wife, Pilar, was an Ecuadorian artist based in the San Francisco Bay area, and his son was a tattooed punk who, according to Randy, was allowed to do whatever he wanted.

I hadn’t ever met my stepbrother before and had only seen a picture of him that was taken a few years ago, shortly before Randy married my mother. From the picture, I could see he inherited dark hair, probably from his South American mother, along with tanned skin, but had Randy’s light eyes and fine features. He was clean-cut then, but Randy said Elec had entered into a rebellious stage as of late. That included getting tattoos when he was only fifteen and getting into trouble for underage drinking and smoking pot. Randy blamed Pilar for being flighty and too focused on her art career, thereby allowing Elec to get away with murder.

Randy claimed he had encouraged Pilar to take a temporary position teaching classes run by a London art gallery so that Elec, now 17, could come live with us.

Although Randy took two short trips out west a year, he wasn’t there on a daily basis to discipline Elec. He struggled with that and said he looked forward to the opportunity to set his son straight over the next year.

Butterflies swarmed in my stomach as I stared out at the dirty snow that lined my street. The frigid Boston weather would be a rude awakening for my California-bred stepbrother.

I had a stepbrother.

That was a weird thought. I hoped we would get along. As an only child, I had always wanted a sibling. I laughed at how stupid I was, fantasizing that this was going to be some kind of fairytale relationship overnight, like friggin’ Donny and Marie Osmond or Jake and Maggie Gyllenhaal. This morning, I heard an old Coldplay song I never even knew existed called Brothers and Sisters. It’s not about siblings per say, but I convinced myself it was a good omen. This was going to be okay. I had nothing to be scared about.

My mother seemed just as nervous as I was as she repeatedly ran up and down the stairs to get Elec’s room ready. She had turned the office into a bedroom. Mom and I had gone to Walmart together to buy sheets and other necessities. It was weird picking stuff out for someone you didn’t know. We decided on dark navy bedding.

I started muttering to myself, thinking about what I would say to him, what we would talk about, what I could introduce him to here. It was sort of exciting and nerve-wracking at the same time.

A car door slammed, prompting me to jump up from the couch and straighten my wrinkled shirt.

Calm yourself, Greta.

The key made a turning sound. Randy walked in alone and left the door cracked open, allowing the freezing air to seep into the room. After a few minutes, I could hear feet crunching on the sheet of ice that covered the walkway but no Elec yet. He must have stopped outside before entering. Randy stuck his head back out the door. “Get your ass in here, Elec.”

A lump formed in my throat when he appeared at the doorway. I swallowed hard and took him in for a few seconds, my heart pounding harder and harder as the realization hit that he looked nothing like the picture shown to me.

Elec was taller than Randy, and the short hair I remembered from the photo was now a tousled inky black mess nearly covering his eyes. He smelled of cigarettes, or maybe it was pipe smoke because it was sweeter. A chain hung from his jeans. He wouldn’t look at me, so I used the opportunity to continue examining him as he dumped his bag on the floor.

Thud.

Was that my heart or the bag?

He looked over at Randy, and his voice was gravelly. “Where’s my room?”

“Upstairs, but you’re not going anywhere until you say hello to your sister.”

Every muscle in my body tightened as I cringed at the term. There was no way I wanted to be his sister. For one, when he turned to me, he looked like he wanted to kill me. And two, once I got my first look at his chiseled face, it became abundantly clear that while my mind was wary of him, my body had been instantly put under a spell, one I would have given anything to come out from under.

His eyes bore into mine with daggers in them, and he didn’t say anything. I took a few steps forward, swallowed my pride and reached out my hand. “I’m Greta. Nice to meet you.”

He said nothing. Several seconds passed before he reluctantly took my hand. His grip was uncomfortably hard, almost painful before he quickly released it.

I coughed and said, “You look different…than I pictured.”

He squinted at me. “And you look pretty…plain.”

My throat felt like it was going to close up. For a quick second, I thought he was paying me a compliment before he followed the word “pretty” with “plain.” The sad part was, if you’d asked me how standing across from him made me feel, “plain” might have been the term I would have used.

His eyes were looking me up and down with an ice-cold stare. Despite the fact that I detested his personality, I was still in awe of his physical likeness, and that sickened me. His nose was perfectly straight, and his jaw was defined. His lips were perfect—too perfect—for the filth I was sure came out of them. Physically, he was my dream and in every other way, my nightmare. Still, I refused to let him see that his words had an effect on me.

“Would you like me to show you to your room?” I asked.

He ignored me, lifted his bags and headed toward the stairs.

Great. This was going well.

My mother came down the stairs and immediately pulled Elec into a hug.

“It’s so nice to finally meet you, honey.”

His body stiffened before he ripped himself away from her. “Wish I could say the same.”

Randy stormed toward the stairs pointing his finger. “Cut the shit, Elec. You say hello to Sarah in a decent way.”

“Hello to Sarah in a decent way,” Elec repeated in a monotone voice as he walked up the stairs.

My mother put her hand on Randy’s shoulder. “It’s okay. He’ll warm up. Let him be alone. This cross-country move can’t be easy. He doesn’t know me yet. He’s just a little apprehensive.”

“A little disrespectful prick is what he is.”

Whoa.

I had to say, I was surprised to hear Randy speaking that way about his son regardless of how badly Elec was acting. My stepfather had never used words like that with me, although I had never really done anything to deserve it. But Elec was being a disrespectful prick.

That night, Elec stayed behind closed doors. Randy went in there once, and I heard them arguing, but Mom and I decided to let them hash it out and stayed out of whatever was going on between them.

On my way up to bed, I couldn’t help stopping to stare at Elec’s closed bedroom door. I wondered if his alienating us was indicative of how the entire year would go or if he would even last the entire year here.

Planning to brush my teeth, I opened the bathroom door and jumped at the sight of Elec wiping his wet body down from the shower. Steam and the smell of men’s body wash filled the air. For some God forsaken reason, instead of running out, I froze. More disturbing, instead of covering himself with the towel, he let it fall nonchalantly to the floor.

My mouth dropped.

My eyes were now glued to his cock for a few seconds before my gaze traveled up to the two shamrocks inked on his ripped torso and then to the full sleeve tattoo on his left arm. His chest was dripping with water. His left nipple was pierced. By the time my eyes landed on his face, they were met with an evil smirk. I tried to speak, but the words just wouldn’t come out.

Finally, I whipped my head away and said, “Uh…Oh my God…I…I’m so…I better leave.”

As I turned around to head out the door, his voice stopped me in my tracks. “You act like you’ve never seen a guy naked before.”

“Actually…I haven’t.”

“How disappointing for you. It’s gonna be really hard for the next guy to measure up.”

“Cocky much?”

“You tell me. Don’t I deserve to be?”

“God…you’re acting like—”

“A giant dick?”

It was like a bad car accident impossible to turn away from. I was looking down at him again. What was wrong with me? He was stark naked in front of me, and I couldn’t move.

Holy hell…his tip was pierced. What a way to be introduced to my first live one.

He broke my stare. “There’s really nowhere to go from here, so unless you’re planning on doing something, you should probably leave and let me finish getting dressed.”

I shook my head in disbelief and slammed the door shut behind me.

My legs were shaking as I fled to my room.

What just happened?

“How is stepbrother dearest today?” Victoria asked.

The bed squeaked as I plopped on my stomach and sighed into the phone. “Up to his usual assholery.”

I hadn’t told my best friend Victoria about Elec’s show and tell in the bathroom Friday night. It embarrassed me to no end, and I decided to keep it to myself. A Google search of pierced penises ended up keeping me up the rest of that first night. Let me tell you, anyone who innocently searches “Prince Albert” is in for a big surprise.

It was now Sunday, and tomorrow Elec would be starting at my high school where we would both be seniors. Soon enough, everyone would get to meet my jerky stepbrother.

Victoria sounded shocked. “He’s still not speaking to you?”

“No. He came downstairs to pour some cereal this morning and brought it back to his room.”

“Why do you think he has such a stick up his ass?”

You should see his other stick.

“Something’s going on between him and Randy. I’m trying not to take it personally, but it’s hard.”

It’s hard alright. God, I can’t get it out of my head!

Pierced mushroom head.

Shit.

“You think I would like him?” Victoria asked.

“What do you mean? I told you…he’s the devil,” I snapped.

“I know…but do you think I would like him?”

Honestly, I knew he was exactly Victoria’s type. She loved dark and brooding guys even when they weren’t as good-looking as Elec. This was another reason I had to keep the details of the bathroom encounter to myself. All she needed to hear was that his cock was pierced, and I’d never get her out of my house. But she’d find out what he looked like soon enough, so I figured I’d be honest.

“He’s really hot, okay? Really…fucking…hot. In fact, his looks are just about the only thing he has going for him.”

“Okay, I’m coming over.”

“No, you’re not.” I laughed, but deep down, the idea of Victoria throwing herself at Elec made me really uncomfortable even if I didn’t think he’d return the attention.

“What are your plans for tonight, then?”

“Well, before I actually met him and realized he was an asshat, I was supposed to be making Sunday dinner for all of us. You know…my one specialty.”

“Chicken Tetrazzini.”

I laughed because it was the only thing I knew how to make well. “How did you guess?”

“Maybe you can serve up a can of whoopass on the side for stepbrother dearest.”

“I’m not engaging him. I’m gonna kill him with kindness. I don’t care how much of a…dick…(oh goodness) he wants to be to me. The worst thing I can do is let him think he’s affecting me.”

Mom helped me set the table while we waited for the Tetrazzini to bake. My stomach was growling, but it was more nerves rather than the smell of cream sauce and garlic emanating from the oven. I really wasn’t looking forward to sitting across the table from Elec, that is, if he even agreed to join us.

“Greta, why don’t you go upstairs and see if you can get him to come down.”

“Why me?”

My mother screwed open a bottle of wine. She was the only one who would be drinking, and she likely needed it. She poured a little, took a sip then said, “Look, I can understand why he doesn’t like me. He sees me as the enemy and probably blames me in some way for his parents not being together, but there is no reason for him to be treating you poorly. Just keep trying to get through to him, see if you can get him to open up a little.”

I shrugged. She had no idea how all out in the open things were in the bathroom the other night: balls to the wall open.

As I walked up the stairs, the theme song to Jaws rang out in my head. The thought of knocking on his door terrified me, and I didn’t know what I would be faced with if he even opened the door.

I knocked.

To my surprise, he opened right away. A clove cigarette was hanging out of his mouth. The sweet smell of the smoke traveled quickly up my nostrils. He took a long drag then slowly and intentionally blew the smoke right in my face. His voice was low. “What?”

I tried to seem unaffected until an uncontrollable hacking cough broke out.

Very cool, Greta.

“Dinner is almost ready.”

He was wearing a tight, white ribbed tank top, and my eyes drifted down to a tattoo that said “Lucky” on one of his muscular biceps, which was now leaning against the door. His hair was wet, and his jeans hung low, showcasing the top of the white boxer briefs underneath. His steely gray eyes stared into mine. He was breathtaking…for a bastard.

I had zoned out when he said, “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Like what?”

“Like you’re trying to remember what I looked like the other night…like you’d rather have me for dinner.” He snickered. “And why are you winking at me?”

Shit. My eye twitched whenever I was nervous and made it look like I was winking.

“It’s just a twitch. Get over yourself.”

His expression turned angry. “Really? Should I? My looks are all I have going for me, right? So, I should capitalize on that.”

What was he talking about? I stood there speechless.

He continued, “What’s the matter…too hot in here for you?” Then, he said in a mocking tone, “So…fucking…hot.” He flashed a wicked smile.

Shit.

Those were the exact words I had used to describe him on the phone to Victoria earlier.

He had been eavesdropping on my conversation!

My eye twitched.

He continued, “You’re winking at me again. Am I making you nervous? Look at your face! Red’s a good color on you.”

I immediately left to go back downstairs.

He yelled after me. “We’ll match, seeing as though I’m the DEVIL!”

Elec picked at his meal without saying a word as I fixated on his lip ring. Randy was glancing over at him with a look of disdain. My mother refilled her wine glass more than once. Yup, our very own version of the Brady Bunch.

I pretended to be enjoying the Tetrazzini while ruminating over the fact that he’d overheard me talking about him that way and therefore, now knew I was attracted to him.

Mom was the first to speak. “Elec, what do you think of Boston so far?”

“Seeing as though I’ve ventured nowhere but this house, it sucks ass.”

Randy slammed his fork down. “Can you show some respect to your stepmother for five seconds?”

“That depends. Can she stop boozing it up for the same amount of time? I knew you married a cheater, Daddy, but a lush, too?”

“You worthless piece of shit,” Randy spewed.

Whoa.

Once again, Randy had floored me with his choice of words toward his son. Elec was surely being an asshole, but it still shocked me to hear that kind of language coming out of my stepfather’s mouth.

Elec’s chair skidded back as he threw his napkin on the table and got up. “I’m done.” He looked over at me. “The Titty Zinni or whatever the fuck it’s called was wonderful, sis.” The word “sis” had rolled off his tongue with sarcasm.

After he left the table, the silence was deafening. My mother put her hand on Randy’s, and I was left pondering what could have happened between Elec and his father to cause such a rift.

I impulsively got up and walked upstairs. My heart was pounding as I knocked on Elec’s door. He didn’t answer, so I slowly turned the knob and found him sitting at the edge of his bed smoking a clove cigarette. He had headphones on and hadn’t seen me enter. I stood just past the doorway and observed him. He was bouncing his legs nervously, looking frustrated and defeated. Eventually, he put the cigarette out only to immediately reach into his drawer and grab another one.

“Elec,” I shouted.

He jumped and removed his headphones. “The fuck? You scared the shit out of me.”

“Sorry.”

He lit the cigarette and gestured toward the door. “Leave.”

“No.”

He rolled his eyes and shook his head slowly, returning the headphones to his ears and taking a long drag.

I sat down next to him. “Those are gonna kill you.”

Smoke billowed from his mouth as he said, “Perfect.”

“You don’t mean that.”

“Please leave me alone.”

“Okay, fine.”

I left the room and went back downstairs. Seeing him looking so down when he didn’t know I was watching him made me more determined than ever to break through to him somehow. I needed to know if this was just a façade or if he were truly a genuine asshole. The meaner he was to me, the more I wanted to make him like me. It was a challenge.

I returned to the kitchen and asked Randy for Elec’s cell phone number before programming it into my phone. I then typed out a text.

You don’t want to talk, so I’ll text.

Elec: How did you get my number?

Greta: Your father.

Elec: Fuck him.

I decided to change the subject off of Randy.

Greta: Did you enjoy the meal?

Elec: Scramble the letters of meal. You get LAME. Your meal=lame.

Greta: Why are you so mean?

Elec: Why are you so lame?

What a jackass. This was going nowhere. I threw the phone on the counter and marched up the stairs. Now, he’d put me in the mood to do something that would piss him off.

He was still sitting on the bed smoking when I opened the door after neglecting to knock. I headed straight for the drawer, grabbed his box of cigarettes and ran out.

I was laughing all the way back to my room. That is, until my door burst open. I quickly stuffed the cigarettes into my shirt. Elec looked ready to murder me, although admittedly, the glare in his glowing eyes was pretty sexy.

“Give them to me,” he said through gritted teeth.

“I’m not giving them back to you.”

“Yes the fuck you are, or I’m reaching into your shirt and getting them. You choose.”

“Seriously, why do you smoke? It’s so bad for you.”

“You can’t just steal my shit. But then again, like mother, like daughter.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Go ask your mother,” he muttered under his breath. He held out his muscular, tattooed arm. “Give me my cigarettes.”

“Not until you explain why you just said that. She didn’t steal Randy. Your parents were divorced before my mom even met your dad.”

“That’s what Randy wants you to believe. She was probably fucking around on your father too, right? Poor gullible bastard.”

“Don’t call my father a bastard.”

“Well, where was he when Sarahwas fucking my father behind my mother’s back?”

My blood was starting boil. He was going to be sorry for asking. “Six feet under. My father died when I was ten.”

He was silent then rubbed his temples in frustration. His tone eased for the first time since I’d met him. “Fuck. I didn’t know that, okay?”

“There’s a lot you’re probably assuming. If you’d just talk to me…”

Elec almost looked like he was going to apologize. Almost. Then, he shook his head and turned right back into evil Mr. Hyde. “I’ll be fucking damned if I have to talk to you. Give me my cigarettes, or I’m ripping them out of your shirt.”

My body buzzed when he said it. What was wrong with me? A part of me wanted to see what that would be like, his rough hands pulling at the material on my shirt, ripping it off. I shook my head to rid the thought and backed away as he slowly approached. He was just inches from me now. The heat radiated from his body as he moved up against me, squishing the cigarette box into my chest. My nipples instantly turned to steel. I had never felt so out of control of my own body and was silently begging it to stop reacting so intensely toward him. Let’s face it. My body was an imbecile with poor judgment. How could it want something so badly that hated it right back?

His breath smelled like clove. “That was the last package of that brand. They’re imported from Indonesia. I don’t even know where to buy them here yet. If you think I’m difficult to deal with now, you’re not gonna want to see what I’m like with no cigarettes tonight.”

“They’re so bad for you.”

“Ask me if I give a shit,” he said uncomfortably close to my mouth.

“Elec…”

He backed up a few inches. “Look…smoking is the only thing that has brought me any peace since walking into this hell hole. Now, I’m asking nicely. Please.”

His eyes softened, and with each second that passed, my resolve weakened. “Okay.” His gaze followed my hand as I reached into my bra for the cigarettes. I handed them to him and instantly felt the cold air replace the heat of his body as he walked away.

If I thought giving him back the cigarettes would initiate a truce, I was wrong.

He turned around one last time to face me, and his eyes were no longer soft. They were piercing. “You’re gonna pay for that.”

The start of school went exactly the way I expected. Elec ignored me anytime we were in the same class or in the cafeteria. Girls flocked around him everywhere he went, and he instantly became popular while barely having to say a word. Probably the least surprising development was Victoria’s covetous reaction to him.

“What do you think my chances are?”

“Of what?”

“Of bagging Elec.”

“Don’t get me involved in that venture, please.”

“Why not? I realize you don’t get along with him, but you’re my only in.”

“He hates my guts. How am I going to be able to help you with this?”

“You could invite me over, set it up so we’re all in the same room and then leave us alone.”

“I don’t know. You don’t understand how he is.”

“I mean, I know you don’t get along with him, but does it really bother you if I try to make a move? It might actually help your relationship with him if I ended up dating him.”

“I don’t think Elec is the dating type.”

“No…he’s the fucking type, and that’s okay with me, too. I’ll take that.”

My heart was beating faster, and I hated myself for it. Every time Victoria would bring this up, it made me insanely jealous. It was like a secret struggle I was constantly battling. I could never admit this to anyone. Which part bothered me most was unclear. Was it the thought of my friend screwing Elec, getting to touch him and living out my darkest fantasy? That bothered me, sure, but I think what upset me the most was the thought of Elec connecting on a deeper level with someone else while he continued to apparently despise me.

I hated that I cared.

I lifted my backpack out of my locker. “You’re crazy. Can we please change the subject?”

“Okay. I heard Bentley wants to ask you out.”

I slammed the locker hard upon that news. “From whom?”

“He talked to my brother about it. He wants to ask you to the movies.”

Bentley was one of the popular preppie guys. I couldn’t figure out why he would be interested in me since he usually dated girls from his own crowd. I didn’t really belong to their group or any group for that matter. There were the people like Bentley from the rich side of town in one clique. Then, there were the artsy and theatrical ones. Then, you had the international exchange students. Then, there were those who were just popular because they were good-looking, intriguing or acted out (Elec). Victoria and I were sort of in a class of our own. We got along with everyone, got good grades and stayed out of trouble. Unlike my best friend, though, I was a virgin.

I’d only had one boyfriend, Gerald, who ended up breaking up with me because I wouldn’t let him get past touching my boobs. Word got out that I was a virgin and certain people around school would joke about it behind my back. While I still saw Gerald in the halls from time to time, I tried to avoid him.

Victoria snapped her gum. “So, anyway, if he asks you out, we should totally invite Elec. He could go with me, and you could go with Bentley. We could go see that new scary movie.”

“No, thanks. Living with Elec is all the scary I need.”

My words would come back to haunt me the next morning. I was getting dressed for school, and when I opened my underwear drawer, it was empty.

I threw on some yoga pants commando-style and marched into Elec’s room as he was putting on a shirt.

“What the hell did you do with my underwear?”

“It doesn’t feel good when someone takes your shit, does it?”

“I took one box of cigarettes for less than five minutes and gave it right back, by the way. You took every single piece of underwear I own! There’s a little bit of a difference there.”

I couldn’t believe I assumed he wasn’t going to get back at me for that one. Lately, he had been ignoring me especially well, and I just assumed all was forgotten.

I started searching his drawers. My hand quickly retracted after touching a strip of condoms.

“You can look in here all day until the sun goes down. They’re not in here. Don’t waste your time.”

“You’d better not have thrown them out!”

“Those were some hot pieces. I couldn’t do that.”

“That’s because they cost a fortune.”

Good underwear was probably the only thing I splurged on. Each and every pair came from a pricey online lingerie boutique.

As I knelt down to look under his bed, he laughed. “You have a wedgie, by the way.”

I leapt up and clenched my teeth. “That’s what happens when you don’t have any fucking underwear!”

I wanted to pick it so badly, but that would have made this worse. I stood up to face him.

Elec gave me a once-over. “You’ll get them back when I’m ready to give them to you. Now, if you’ll excuse me…” He brushed past me and ran down the stairs.

I didn’t even bother to stop him because he wasn’t going to budge. I went to Target on the way to school and bought cheapie panties until I could figure out how to get mine back.

I came home from school that day in a really anxious mood. Between the missing underwear and my actually getting asked out by Bentley, I was seriously in need of ice cream—not just any ice cream, but the homemade kind I’d make occasionally on the machine I got for Christmas last year.

I dumped every piece of leftover Halloween candy into it and ended up with a delectable Snicker, Heath bar, Almond Joy concoction with a vanilla base.

Once it was ready, I sat down at the counter with my gigantic bowl and closed my eyes, savoring each bite.

The front door slammed and shortly after, Elec strolled into the kitchen. The scent of clove cigarettes and cologne wafted in the air. I hated his smell.

I fucking loved his smell, wanted to drown in it.

As usual, he ignored me, just headed to the refrigerator, took out the milk and drank it straight from the carton. He eyed my ice cream and walked over to me, taking the spoon out of my hand. He placed it in his mouth, devouring a huge dollop. The metal from his lip ring clinked against the spoon that he licked until it was dry. My insides were quivering from just watching it. Then, he handed the spoon back to me. His tongue lightly brushed across his teeth like a snake. Even his goddamn teeth were sexy.

I opened the drawer, grabbed another spoon and gave him his own. We both started eating out of my bowl while saying nothing to each other. Such a simple thing, but my heart was beating a mile a minute. This was the longest amount of time he’d ever willingly graced me with his presence.

Finally, in the middle of a bite, he looked at me. “What happened to your father?”

I swallowed my ice cream and tried to fight the emotions creeping up. His question caught me totally off guard. I rested my spoon in the bowl. “He died of lung cancer at 35. He’d been smoking since he was 12.”

He closed his eyes briefly and nodded to himself in understanding. He obviously now realized why I’d hated his smoking so much.

After several seconds of silence, he was looking down at the bowl when he said, “I’m sorry.”

“Thanks.”

We continued sharing the ice cream until there was nothing left. Elec took the bowl from me, washed it in the sink, wiped it and put it away. He then left to go back upstairs without saying anything else.

I stayed downstairs in the kitchen alone for a while replaying that strange encounter. His interest in my father really surprised me. I also thought again about when he first licked my spoon and how I’d felt when I licked it after.

My phone chimed. It was a text from Elec.

Thanks for the ass cream. It was really good.

When I returned to my room that afternoon, a single pair of my underwear was neatly folded on my dresser. If this were his version of extending an olive branch, I’d take it.

The “sweet” Elec was short-lived. A few days after our ice cream social, he showed up at the café where I worked right in the middle of the after school rush. Kilt Café was down the street from our high school and served things like sandwiches, salads and coffee.

If Elec’s showing up wasn’t bad enough, he’d brought with him probably the most beautiful girl in our entire school. Leila was platinum blonde and tall with huge breasts. She was the total opposite of me looks-wise. I had more of a dancer or gymnast’s body. My long strawberry-blonde hair was poker straight and simple as opposed to her big, bouncy Texas-style do. You’d think she’d be a bitch because of her looks, but she was actually really nice.

Leila waved. “Hey, Greta.”

“Hey,” I said as I placed their menus down. Elec gave me fleeting eye contact but was trying not to acknowledge me. I don’t think he knew that I worked there, because I never told him.

A pang of jealousy hit me when I noticed Elec locking Leila’s legs in with his under the table.

I wasn’t sure if Leila realized he was my stepbrother. I never spoke about him to people at school and figured he never mentioned me, either.

“I’ll give you two a few minutes,” I said before walking back toward the kitchen. I watched as Leila reached across the table and planted a kiss on his lips. I felt sick. She pulled on his lip ring with her teeth. It looked like she might have purred. Ugh. I’d never wanted to disappear into thin air so badly.

I reluctantly walked back over to them. “Have you decided what you want?”

Elec glanced over to the chalkboard that listed the daily specials and smirked. “What’s your soup of the day?”

That bastard.

“Chicken.”

“That’s not correct. You’re misrepresenting it.”

“It’s the same thing.”

He repeated, “What’s…the soup…of the day?”

I stared at him long and hard then clenched my jaw. “Cock a Leekie Soup.”

The owner was from Scotland, and apparently, that was a specialty there.

He flashed a mischievous grin. “Thanks. I’ll have the cock soup. Leila?”

“I’ll have the garden salad,” she said, looking back and forth between Elec and me confused.

I took my sweet time before bringing them their food. It didn’t matter to me if the soup was cold.

After a few minutes, Elec lifted his index finger for me to come to the table.

“Yes?” I huffed.

“This cock is leaky. It’s also bland and cold. Can you please replace it and ask the cook to actually put some flavor in it?”

He looked like he was stifling a laugh. Leila was speechless.

I took the soup back to the kitchen and dumped it violently into the sink along with the ceramic cup. Instead of talking to the chef, I had a light bulb moment and decided to take this into my own hands. I grabbed the ladle and put more soup into a new cup. I opened a bottle of hot picante sauce and poured it more than generously into the soup.

It was piping hot in more ways than one now. I walked back out and placed it carefully in front of Elec.

“Anything else?”

“No.”

I walked back over toward the kitchen and waited in the corner to watch him. The anticipation was killing me. His tongue would practically fall off when he got one taste of my specialty.

Elec took the first spoonful. He had no reaction.

How could that be?

He took another spoonful then his eyes sought me out. His mouth curved into a sly smile before he took the entire cup and started drinking the soup like a beverage. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, whispered to Leila and excused himself.

Leila’s back was turned to me when Elec walked over and dragged me by the arm into the dark corridor leading to the bathrooms.

He backed me up against the wall. “You think you’re so smart?” My heart was slamming into my chest. Speechless, I shook my head as he said, “Well, the joke’s on you.”

Before I could respond, Elec grabbed my face with both hands and smashed his lips into mine. The metal from his lip ring scraped my mouth as he nudged it open with his tongue hungrily and started kissing me deep. I moaned into his mouth, both shocked and excited by the ambush of his hot tongue assaulting me. My body was shaking. He smelled amazing. I felt like I was going to collapse from the sensory overload.

Within seconds, the heat from the picante sauce on his tongue began to penetrate my own, which was now burning. Even though it felt like my tongue was about to fall off, I didn’t ever want to pull away.

I’d never been kissed like this.

Then, just like that, he ripped his mouth away from mine.

“Don’t you know by now not to fuck with me?”

He walked away, and I stayed panting in the corridor with my hand over my chest.

Holy shit.

My mouth was on fire along with every other orifice. I was throbbing between my legs. When I finally gained enough composure to walk back out, I realized they needed their check at some point.

I decided to get it over with and took the leather bill binder to their table, placing it in front of Elec without making eye contact.

I overheard him telling Leila to meet him out front and that he’d take care of everything. He reached into his pocket and slipped something in the folder and soon after, he took off.

He probably didn’t even leave me a tip. I opened it and gasped when along with a twenty-dollar bill was my favorite black lace thong and written in pen on the check:

Keep the change, or rather, change into these. I’m guessing your current ones are a little wet.

Elec and I never spoke of the kiss even though it ran through my mind constantly. I was pretty sure it didn’t mean anything to him, that he was just trying to make a point. Still, the sensations I experienced were the same as if the kiss had been based on real passion. Knowing what his lips felt like on mine and how he’d tasted wasn’t a memory that could so easily be erased. I craved that feeling again. It made the battle between my mind and body much more difficult than before.

It was a curse having a crush on someone you had to live with, particularly when he brought girls from school back to the house.

One afternoon, while our parents weren’t home, he’d brought Leila over, and they were in his room messing around. Another afternoon, it was Amy. Then the next week, it was a different Amy.

I’d be in my room covering my ears so that I didn’t have to hear the sound of his bed squeaking or the stupid girl giggling. The particular day that Amy number two exited his room to go home, I texted him immediately after.

Really? Two Amys? Will Amy #3 be coming tomorrow? What are you thinking?!

Elec: I’m thinking you’re wishing your name were Amy…“sister.”

Greta: Step! Stepsister.

Elec: Scramble the word step, you get PEST. step=pest.

Greta: You’re a moron.

Elec: You’re a pest.

I got up from my bed in a huff and walked right into his room without knocking. He was playing a video game and didn’t even look at me. “I really need to get a lock on that thing.”

My heart was racing. “Why are you such a fucking jerk?”

“Nice to see you, too, sis.” He patted the bed next to where he was sitting at the edge with his eyes still fixed on the game. “If you won’t leave, by all means, have a seat.”

“I have no desire to sit on your dirty bed.”

“Is that because you’d rather sit on my dirty face?”

My heart nearly stopped.

His mouth spread into a devious smile as he continued to play the game. He had rendered me speechless. In fact, I had rendered myself speechless, because as soon as the words “sit on my dirty face” came out of his mouth, I had the urge to cross my legs to curb my arousal. My vagina was a hopeless fool. The cruder he was, the stronger its attraction to him.

Instead of dignifying his question with a response, I looked around the room, headed straight for his drawers and began rummaging through his things. “Where’s my underwear?”

“I told you, they’re not in here.”

“I don’t believe you.”

I continued searching around until I stumbled upon something that caught my eye. It was a binder with a large stack of papers inside. Printed on the front were the words Lucky and the Lad by Elec O’Rourke.

“What’s this?”

For the first time, Elec stopped his video game and practically flew off the bed. “Don’t touch that.”

I flipped through it as fast as possible before he ripped it out of my hands. There was dialog and some lines were crossed out and corrected in red pen. My eyes widened. “You wrote a book?”

He swallowed and for the first time since I’d met him, Elec looked truly uncomfortable. “That’s none of your business.”

“Maybe you do have more going for you than your looks,” I joked.

My eyes wandered to the tattoo of the word “Lucky” on his right bicep, and the wheels began turning in my head. The tattoo was connected to the story he apparently wrote.

Elec gave me one last death stare before walking over to his closet and placing the binder on the top shelf. He sat back down on the bed and resumed his videogame.

Desperate to connect with him in some way, I sat next to him and watched as he destroyed his virtual enemy in combat.

“Can two people play?”

He stopped for a moment and froze, then sighed in exasperation, before handing me a controller. He changed the setting to two players, and we began battling it out.

It took me a while to figure out how to play the game. After multiple wins on his part, my character finally killed his off, and he turned to me with a look of amusement and dare I say…admiration. He cracked a reluctant but genuine smile, and I felt like my heart was going to disintegrate. That one little gesture, and I was a lost cause. What would I have done if he were actually really nice to me: lose my mind altogether and start humping his leg? Upon that thought, I decided it was time for me to go back to my room.

I spent the rest of the night trying to figure him out and concluded there was definitely more to stepbrother dearest than met the eye.

Several weeks passed before I’d accepted Bentley’s offer to take me out on a date. I’d finally conceded that a.) there were no better alternatives at the moment and b.) a distraction from my unhealthy obsession with my stepbrother would be most helpful.

My attraction to Elec was at an all-time high. Almost every night after dinner, I’d go to his room and play that videogame with him. It was a harmless way for us to take out our frustration toward each other without anyone actually getting hurt. The surprising thing was, he seemed to be the one initiating it now. The one night I decided to stay in my room and read, he’d sent me a text.

Are you coming to play or what?

Greta: I wasn’t going to.

Elec: Bring some ass cream too and put extra Snickers in it.

That message would have seemed really odd to someone on the outside looking in. The text had made me giddy, though.