Man Up Stepbrother (2 page)

"Seriously, stay."

He grasps my elbow. My heart races at his touch. I hope my face isn't bright red. Bad enough to be thinking of his hands on me, but now to feel the warmth and strength of them, of his fingers clasped around my arm, gripping me tight, I can only imagine I'm all shades of crimson.

"Once we're relieved, I want to take you out for a late dinner."

"I'm not hungry," I say, moving to the tub to create distance in the suddenly-too-small-room and draining the bathwater.

"Then you can keep me company. Entertain me while I eat."

He's right behind me. I feel his body heat on my back, and all I can think about is how safe and warm and good I'd feel with his chest pressed up against my back. I wouldn't need to dive back into that tub of chunky dough ice cream to feel good.

"Entertain you?" I turn back and smirk at him. He's close. So close I think I can feel his heartbeat. "And how would you like me to do that?"

"You can start with a striptease," he says, wiggling his eyebrows.

"Right there in the middle of the restaurant?"

"Um hm. Right there in the dining area." He bends down and whispers in my ear. His warm breath tickles me, sending a shiver down my spine and a ripple of tiny bumps across the skin on my arms. "Climb up on a table and sway those hips." His hands grip my hips and rock them from side to side. "Shake that ass while you shed your clothes and run your hands over that hot body of yours." He straightens back up to his full height and steps away. I feel a chill. I want his hands back on me. "I give you my word," he says, holding his hand up. "You'll have my undivided attention."

"You wish."

"Oh boy, do I wish."

The problem is, so do I. Oh God, so do I.

There was a time I'd take this conversation further, play it out and see where it went.

And then it all changed.

Any hope I had of using Jagger as a distraction to help me move on from a toxic relationship shimmied away.

The moment I saw his picture light up another woman's phone, I knew I had to let any thoughts or possibilities of anything happening with Jagger go. She has ties to Jagger that make it wrong for me to pursue him. Although she has a large part of Jagger's heart, that isn't what keeps me at bay. The reason I can't move forward on my desire to get tangled in the sheets with him is because he's family.

That's what makes this conversation, and thoughts of getting naked and sweaty with him, wrong. Just plain wrong.

He isn't just family. He's my brother. Stepbrother actually, but still, nothing can happen between us. I have to get my mind off him because it's seriously disturbing to be lusting after the son of the woman my father lusts after. That image is the perfect sobering thought to bring me back to the moment. Even though there is no blood relation between us, we're both in our twenties and only met a little over six months ago. Having these thoughts about him feels incestuous.

I roll my eyes at Jagger before picking Mia up out of the tub and toweling her off.

"Asking me to strip for you, that's a little inappropriate, don't you think?"

Shit. That came out a whole lot nastier than I meant it to.

"Fine," he says, letting out a long breath, as if he's annoyed. "Whatever. Forget I mentioned anything. I just wanted to give you a proper thank you for bailing me out. Maybe get to know you a little. We've never hung out, or even had a real conversation between just the two of us. "

I'm flooded with guilt and regret. I should've just said yes when I had the chance. But I had to play hard to get so he wouldn't think I jumped at the chance to go out with him.

The fact I almost did jump at the invitation isn't so much about Jagger. It's about the silence of a still, empty house. Even if he had a third eye, I'd be tempted to go. I'm not in any rush to get back to the nothingness of the night, especially since my father and Beverly are away with friends for the weekend. All I have to look forward to when I leave here is another night of television and ice cream.

"I don't want to forget it," I say in a low tone, not sure if I want him to hear or not, as Mia pulls on my nose.

"Got nose."

"Oh, no," I say, covering my nose with my hand and acting surprised.

Jagger hasn't responded. It's making me nervous, so I steal a glance at him out of the corner of my eye. Something in my stomach flutters as I catch him staring at me with the same strange look he had when he brought me the paper towels and gloves.

"What?" I ask, hating that I feel so insecure around him. He shouldn't have this sort of effect on me. 

He shakes his head. "Are you this fickle with everyone? Or do I bring out the best in you?"

"It's you." I say, feeling relieved. "It's definitely you."

Chapter 3

Jagger

"Why don't you just hop up into the cab of my truck and let me drive?"

"No thank you. I've seen you drive. I'm being generous by even calling that driving. I'd rather get there in one piece," Allie answers, turning away from me and getting into her car.

I consider arguing the case further but change my mind. I lean down so that I'm looking into her window, waiting for her to pull it down.

"Then you better keep up," I say as I slap the roof of her car and walk away.

I make her nervous. That much is obvious. Buy why? And why the hell do I like it so much? We're going for dinner. No, I'm going for dinner, she's tagging along. As if to prove my point, my stomach roars, sending an S.O.S. begging for food.

I'm hungry. Hell, I'm fucking starved. Marlena apologized profusely for not having a stocked refrigerator when I got there. She hadn't gone shopping for the week yet and didn't plan on getting that call and running out before she had a chance to cook dinner. I could've ordered something, but I wasn't hungry at the time, and once Allie got there, I wanted an excuse to spend more time with her.

I turn up the volume on the radio, trying to clear my head before we get to the pizzeria. I'm spending way too much of my night thinking about this chick. And I shouldn't be. I shouldn't even be thinking of Allie as a chick. But those curves and pouty lips make it hard.

Hell, she makes
me
hard.

Staring at her sweet ass while she bathed Mia, I felt more than a little twitch below the border. I doubt she noticed. She was too preoccupied. But when she looked at me, there was something different in her eyes tonight. I wonder what was going through her head. One minute her eyes devoured me, the next, she was Arctic-freeze cold.

There's something between us she's trying to hide from. At least half a dozen times I saw her eyes take on a dreamy look that she worked hard to hide when I came near. Shit, I can't go there. I force my thoughts back to the road stretching out in front of me. I change stations on the radio. I need something, anything to get my mind off of Allie.

Fucking music sucks.

I get that she doesn't want anything to happen between us. I don't either. I really don't. It would make life super awkward. I've played it out in my head once I got over the shock of learning that she's Vic's daughter. There's not one scenario that works.

We date and shit doesn't work, then one of us will be left with hard feelings, leading to disastrous holidays and Sunday dinners. We fuck, and it doesn't go well, we hate each other afterwards and avoid the holidays and our parents. We fuck and it's great, but eventually comes to end on a sour note when one of us wants more than a casual relationship.

And the worst-case scenario.

We fall for each other. Fall hard. Like asteroids from the sky. The world doesn't exist when she's around because all I can see or think of is her and all she can see or think of is me. But for one of a million reasons, it doesn't work. Our parents flip the fuck out and forbid us from seeing each other. Not that we need their permission, but it would make for one hell of a Christmas dinner.

Or we're incompatible for the long haul because she wants to move back to California and I want to settle down here near my mother and brother. Or her ex comes back into the picture and she realizes she's still in love with the jackass.

Maybe there's nothing external that comes between us. Maybe we just want different things in our lives, different goals and objectives, like the kids and travel. I want kids, and if my feet never leave American soil, I won't be upset. Here we both end up heartbroken.

Then what? Then we're both miserable because we can't escape each other.

Ever.

I have a front row seat when she chooses to move on with someone else. I'm shattered like a glass window in an abandoned house when she looks at him the way she used to look at me and he steals a kiss from her sweet lips. I do anything to get away from them, from seeing her have kids and start a life with him, because my heart feels like a bomb full of shrapnel exploded deep inside it, and it can never be repaired.

It's not worth the risk.

I need to keep this shit right where it is, in the friend zone.     

*

I stand by the driver's side door waiting for Allie to get out of her car.

"Slowpoke," I tease once she's standing next to me.

I shove my hands in my pockets so I don't do anything stupid like reach for her hand or put my arm around her. This isn't a date, I remind myself. Not at all a date. It's just two friends hanging out together.

The problem is we're not friends. And this is a girl that I had a serious interest in. I didn't want the guys to know how into Allie I really was, so I played it up like I was after Lexi. Stupid. I know, but after being in hell for the last bunch of years, the last thing I wanted was to be ribbed about going soft over a girl I just met.

Over Allie.

At least with Lexi, it seemed like I was still battle-ready, still up for a fight.

"You better back off or Noah's going to murder you," Troy warns me at church right before our mother's wedding.

"Let him try. He'll have to learn the hard way taking down a Marine is no easy task, and not one to be taken lightly.”

"Why do you have to fuck with my friends?" Troy asks, all pissed off.

"All in a day’s work," I tease before looking down the aisle to the place my brother will escort my mother in a few minutes, and my heart gives one huge, heavy thump before it stops. For a split second it gives out completely. I think I've died and gone to Heaven.

Aleena.

With a long deep breath, my heart starts up again. It races and pounds furiously at the sight of her. Flowers adorn her blonde hair, which is swept up in an intricate weave of braids that curves around her head and meet on the side. Her gray eyes glow, lighting up the church.

I forget for the moment why I'm here, whose wedding it is, because seeing her standing near the altar scrambles my brain. I imagine she's there waiting for me with her heart ricocheting around her chest at the sight of me.

The fantasy unwinds when she wraps her arms around her asshole boyfriend and holds him close. I watch, unable to move or speak as she whispers in his ear. I hate him. I want to pound him right here. Right now. Maybe I'll get lucky and he'll spill his drink on me at the reception or bump into me while dancing and give me an excuse to do just that.

"You could at least act like you're interested in what I'm saying." Allie snaps me back to the moment.

"Sorry. My mind drifted."

"That's obvious."

"Yeah, but I was thinking of you leaning over the side of the tub." I nudge her with my shoulder.

"So like I was
saying
," she emphasizes the last word, completely ignoring what I said and derailing the direction I want to go in. I know we can't take it anywhere, but can't we at least flirt a little bit? "Your mother said to let her know if you think they should come home early."

She called my mother? She fucking called my mother? Does she hate me that much that she needed to call in the reserves? Ask my mother rather than figure out herself how to keep me in line? Or is she afraid I might call on her to help out again and she wants to avoid me? Just. Fucking. Great.

I clear my throat. "We had it under control. You didn't have to call her," I snap, pissed that I'm letting on how much it bothers me.

"I didn't call her, dipshit. Did you hear a word I said? My father called me while we were on the way over here. He asked what I'd been up to and when your mother heard something happened to Marlena's father, she freaked and asked for details. But in case you're wondering, I did tell her how you tried to be the gallant knight in the face of disaster, and that you even attempted to change a diaper on your own."

"Oh."

"That's it? The great Jagger Evans can only say oh?"

"You think I'm great?" I wink at her.

"I think you're an ass," She pushes my arm before I open the door and wait for her to walk in.

With my hand splayed on the small of her back, I lead her over to the counter. Why did I take my hands out of my pockets to open the door? I should've kept them where they were and let her open the door herself. Now I'm touching her, and my hand is itching to slip down lower to her ass.

Fight the urge.

We order a veggie pie at the counter and go sit at a table in the back while we wait for our food.

Silence falls on us. Heavy, awkward silence.

"I feel so bad for Marlena," Allie says.

"Me too." I know she's trying to make conversation and break up the awkwardness that's settled on us, but I want to know about her. Not Marlena. Or Lexi. Or anyone that doesn't exist outside of us at this moment. It's the first time we're spending time alone. Just the two of us.

"Do you miss California?" I ask.

Sadness creeps into her eyes. "Sometimes."

"Why'd you leave?"

"Are you looking to send me back?" she asks with a raised brow.

I'm careful with my response because I'm not sure if she's teasing or if I offended her. "Not at all." Out of the many things I'm looking to do to her at the moment - touch her, kiss her - sending her across the country and away from me isn't one of them. "I'm just curious."

"I thought college was a good excuse to move closer to my father. We were always close, and when my parents divorced and he came to the East Coast, I missed him. A lot. I think it's one of the reasons Lexi and I hit it off so well when we met."

"How old were you when your parents divorced?"

"Fourteen. But I was sixteen when he got transferred to New York."

"Do you think you'll go back? I mean when you're ready to settle down and start a family?"

"I never thought about it," she starts as the server brings the pie to our table. "My mother got so mad at me for leaving, we barely speak. I mean I think she would've been fine with me going away, just as long as it wasn't close to him."

"I'm sorry," I say, reaching across the table and giving her hand a squeeze.

"It's fine," she shrugs. "I just sometimes miss having someone to go to for advice about stupid things like if something makes me look fat, or what color goes best with my eyes. "

I get it. I never really had that with my father. Not that I ever worried about looking fat, but from time to time I needed advice on how to navigate through the bullshit at school. Troy could go to him, but anytime I did, we'd end up yelling at each other.

"You can come to me. But I'll tell you right now, I can't imagine you looking fat in anything." I let my eyes crawl over her as if that will help prove my point. "And every color complements your eyes."

"I said it was stupid," Her eyes drop to the table and her cheeks have taken on a pink hue.

I want to reach across the table and lift her chin so she'll look at me again. She looks so vulnerable right now I just want to wrap her up in my arms and hold her close.

"Have you tried opening up to her, maybe let her know you miss her?"

"She said I betrayed her because as the only girl, I'm supposed to be on her side. My brothers haven't even called me in over half a year. They can go fuck themselves as far as I'm concerned." The vulnerability is gone. Allie's tough exterior is back in place.

"That must suck to always be caught in the middle of their bullshit."

She nods. "It's exhausting," she says, holding her slice up to take a bite.

It takes a nanosecond for me to realize something's up. It happens so fast. Allie's gray eyes open wide as saucers and fill with tears. The slice in her hand drops down to her plate. If I didn't know better, I'd think someone came up behind her and stabbed her in the back. I reach for her hand, which now sits clumsily on the table.

She doesn't pull away. In fact, she doesn't respond at all. It's like I'm not even here. I turn in my chair and follow her stare. Nothing out of sorts. Nothing to cause that kind of reaction from my girl. I shake that thought off.
Allie isn't my girl. In any way. Nor can she ever be.

I look back at her and then again at the couple she's staring at off in the corner behind me. I narrow my eyes, trying to place the vaguely familiar face of the guy. And then it hits me. He's the douche she brought to the wedding. The jerk-off she'd been with for two years. The reason she turned me down when I first came back, before our parents got married.

"Hey," I squeeze her hand. "You want to get out of here?"

She shakes her head. "No. I was bound to run into them at some point. Better to get used to it now rather than when the baby is born."

My head spins back to get a better look at the couple. She's sitting with her back to me, so I can't tell if she's pregnant.

"What a shit. He couldn't even wait for your side of the bed to cool off before he knocked another chick up?"

"Apparently not," she says, getting to her feet. "He got her pregnant before we broke up. Two months before." Allie doesn't bother to meet my eyes again. She doesn't bother to pause. She rushes off to the bathroom.