Meeting the Step (3 page)

Chapter Five

Chelsea

MY EYES WERE
swollen from crying all night. Richard, my boyfriend, the love of my life, had never laid hands on me like that before and as much as I was pissed about it, I was also just as frightened. He had never lost control the way that he had and there was nothing to blame but alcohol. Richard was supposed to be my escape but last night, he was my prison.

I rolled over and grabbed my phone from the little nightstand next to my bed. There were several text messages from Richard waiting to be read.

Richard: I'm sorry, baby.

Richard: Please forgive me.

Richard: I never meant to hurt you.

Richard: I love you.

I locked my phone and pulled the soft like clouds blanket over my head and for a moment I wished I were in the sky flying away from everything. I hated being in that house. I hated that my mother had moved on. I hated the circumstances. The first chance I had to get away, I was taking it.

Richard had pitched the idea of me moving in with him. He lived somewhat close to campus and promised to give me my space . . . until he started drinking.

Alcohol was a dirty liquid, one that I had used for an escape many times before, but after last night I discovered first handedly how dangerous the substance really was. First my father's death then the abuse my boyfriend gave me. People could lose control so quickly. Even I had lost control.

I threw the blanket below my waist and shoved it to the end of the bed with my feet. I hated change and it seemed ever since my father died, I had experienced it at every turn. I wanted to scream out and release my frustration to the world, but instead I kept it bottled in. Life wasn't fair and every day I learned this cruel fact.

My stomach grumbled and my breath tasted like I had transformed into a werewolf and terrorized people all night. Dog breath. Ick. I rolled my tongue on the roof of my mouth then stumbled to the bathroom. I think the alcohol I had consumed was still swimming through my veins, but I continued forward.

I opened the bathroom door and stopped when I saw with my new soon-to-be stepbrother. Dark messy hair had fallen into his face and when he turned to look at me, crystal blue eyes stared into mine. He was shirtless and I couldn't help but linger down his chest, past his abs, to his semi hard-on in those low hanging jogging pants. He had the body of a swimmer with lean, defined muscles.

After several long moments, he lifted his eyebrows and pulled the toothbrush from his mouth and spat into the sink. He looked me up and down, lingering on all of my curves then spoke.

"Hi," he said and that was it.

I swallowed then exhaled.

He cupped water in his hand and sucked it through his lips then spit again. Gently, he wiped his mouth on a cotton towel on his side of the sink and shot me a little smirk before leaving the bathroom. I felt like a tongue-tied idiot.

First of all, Gerald's son was not supposed to have killer good looks. I expected him to be a World of War Craft loving math god with terrible skin, thick glasses, and a high-pitched voice who played Dungeons and Dragons on the weekends. Instead, he had chiseled abs, crystal blue eyes, a voice that made me melt along with features that could make any woman swoon. My heartbeat steadily increased. He was the complete opposite of every expectation I had. This was all too confusing.

Last night he had saved me, but I couldn't remember what he looked like because it seemed to all happen so fast. I was too embarrassed and drunk to stay around to thank him. I shook my head trying to rid all of the thoughts of instant attraction away. I didn't even know him or his name. I couldn't remember what my mother had said because I didn't give two shits about moving. But now, at this very moment, I wished I could remember. Maybe, I'd just call him Prince Charming. He did kind of look like him. Did this mean our quest towards a happy ending had begun? No, no, no. That's just stupid.

I grabbed the tube of toothpaste and squirted more than enough on the bristles then looked at myself in the mirror as I brushed. No telling what he thought of me. I spit foam into the sink and placed my toothbrush back in its holder on my side. My mind was in a whirl spin and my feet felt like they weren't touching the ground. I needed a reality check and quick.

I went back to my new room, which I hated, and changed into a t-shirt and worn blue jeans. I picked up my phone and realized it was barely past eight in the morning. And god I was dying of thirst, or least that's what it felt like, and I was starving. I walked, or rather zombied my way downstairs. The smell of eggs and bacon wafted around the room.

When my mother was happy, she cooked. And when I say cook, I meant cook a lot. I walked into the kitchen and sat down at the long wooden table. It still felt strange being in a house that I didn't grow up in. I felt like a fish out of water.

As soon as she caught sight of my face, her eyebrows furrowed. "You've been drinking again," she said.

I rolled my eyes. She always freaked out about me drinking regardless if it were 1 or 10 drinks.

"Yep. And I've been having tons of sex too. All I need now is a kilo of cocaine and I will have everything marked off my things-to-do-before-I-turn-twenty-five list." I let the sarcasm in my voice ring out.

I knew I shouldn't say things like that, but she needed to stop treating me like a child. I was 22, well on my way to graduating with a degree in design, but she still continued to point out my flaws as if she had none. I guess it was hard for her to realize she didn't have the perfect daughter she always dreamed of having. It was days like this that I really missed my father.

She opened her mouth to rebuttal me but looked over my shoulder and stopped. Her open mouth turned up into a sweet smile as she wiped her hands on a kitchen towel.

"Good morning, Beautiful," Gerald said and walked to my mother. He gave me a wink then kissed her on the mouth. I turned my head, disgusted by the sight of it. I leaned my cheek on my fist trying to ignore the smacking noises they made.

A few more seconds of this nonsense and I would be grabbing my keys from the counter and heading toward McDonalds. I placed my palms flat on the table ready to scoot my chair out when a head of dark curly hair rounded the corner. I was frozen in place.

"Hey, son. Hungry?"

He looked over at my smug look then back at his father and my mother. He gave them a nod. My mom slid a plate of food in front of me and I felt like I was five again.

"Chelsea, this is Maxwell or Max. Max this is my daughter and only child, Chelsea."

His name was Maxwell. Max. I started to smile but then felt awkward so I didn't. The temperature in the room seemed to rise with every second he glared at me.

"We've already met, actually," Max said.

I narrowed my eyes at him. Would he out me? Would he really be a tattle tail?

"Really? When?" Gerald asked as he sat down next to Max at the table.

"Last night. We both arrived home around the same time."

My face went pink remembering how he had punched the shit out of Richard. No one had ever taken up for me like that.

"Oh, so you met Chelsea's boyfriend then?" My mother asked.

Max glanced down at his knuckles then back to me. I couldn't help but notice he had broken skin with his force.

"I didn't realize that was her boyfriend, but in a round about way, yeah, I guess I did meet him," Max said.

Yeah, when your fist met his face, I wanted to say but I didn't want my business aired. Just the thought of him spilling it all at the table made my heart race. I could feel the beat pounding in my neck. I tried to play it cool and not let my emotions get the best of me, but I pleaded with my eyes.
Please.
I practically begged without speaking a word and I think he got the hint.

"So dad. What are the plans this weekend?"

"Actually, Sandra and I were thinking about driving to San Fran this weekend to hit up some of the wineries in the area since we both took off next week."

I glared at my mother and all she did was smile at me.

"You kids can take care of yourselves, you'll be just fine. We are probably going to get on the road around ten," Gerald said.

I looked down at my food and moved it around on my plate. I had secretly wished their affair was just a fling that would pass with the season, but sitting there in Gerald's house, I realized it wasn't. This was really happening. My mother was really moving on. The sparkle of the big diamond ring caught my eye and as much as I didn't want to accept their relationship, I knew I would have to. The thought of it made me sick all over again.

The quicker I got out of this house, the better.

Chapter Six

Chelsea

MY MOTHER TOLD
me goodbye and begged me to stay out of trouble. I knew she meant well, but she was always worried that I was going to do something regretful. One day I would prove her right.

"I'll stay home this weekend, okay?"

I could see the instant relief on her face when I said that. Being home didn't mean I was safe. I could have Richard come over and stay all weekend. The thought of rebellion made me smile. She kissed me on the cheek and the edge of her sun hat brushed my hair.

"I'll see you Monday," I heard Gerald telling Max. His voice was muffled so I didn't quite hear his response. I looked out the window and watched the Corvette convertible drive away and instead of being that sad child watching her mother drive off into the distance, I was actually happy. I'd have the swimming pool and hot tub all to myself. At least living here did have some perks with it.

The sun was barely up in the sky, but at least it was awake. I went upstairs and slipped out of my blue jeans and t-shirt and put on my black bikini. It fit low on my hips and was almost too small for my breasts, but I didn't care. The plan wasn't to swim but rather get some sun. I needed to relax and get my thoughts straight.

I grabbed some lotion and walked into the bathroom. The door was open to Max's room and I snuck a peek while I reached for a towel in the cabinet. He was on the floor doing push-ups. His muscles flexed as he lifted his bodyweight from the floor and up again, over and over. He rested on his knees and I moved my eyes back to the towels then hurried out of the bathroom. Almost busted.

I stood in my room for at least five minutes and tried to calm my breathing then grabbed my phone and headed down the stairs. Halfway down, I saw Max coming up with a bottle of water in his hand. We passed each other with our gazes locked. When I made it to the bottom of the steps, I turned around and so did he when he made it to the top.

"Thanks for last night and for not making it an issue at breakfast."

"No problem. I would have done that for anyone." He gave me a little side smile and walked away. Sometimes I wanted to be a special snowflake. I wanted someone to say, I did that just for you, but the thought was utterly ridiculous. Why would he even care? He didn't even know me.

I slid open the patio door and stepped outside. I loved 80-degree weather in January. I never wanted to live anywhere other than California. We had everything here.

The lawn chair was close to the pool. I adjusted it to lay flat then positioned myself on my stomach and stretched my arms above my head to help me get a somewhat even tan. Music from my phone played low and I hummed along. Dave Matthew's Band always made me smile. It was the only band my father and I ever agreed on.

The warmth of the sun kissed my skin and my body relaxed. After twenty minutes, my alarm sounded telling me it was time to flip. When I rolled over to change my positioning, I heard the patio door slide open then closed. I lifted my head and saw Max standing shirtless with swim shorts that fell low on his hips. His cell phone was in his hand and he was laughing.

"Are you going to be hungry later?"

I gave him an awkward smile knowing my hair looked ridiculous piled on the top of my head. "Yeah, probably."

"I'm going to order Chinese in an hour. Anything special you'd like?"

"I'm not picky, whatever."

He looked at me sanctimoniously. "After last night, I can tell you're not picky, at least when it comes to your choice of men."

I rolled my eyes at him because he sounded so much like my mother. "You know nothing about me."

"You're right." He walked closer.

"But for some reason, I want to know everything about you." His voice was low and gravely and it caused my heart to race. No one had ever been so frank with me. He noticed my reaction and an eyebrow popped up. He shook his head and sat his phone down on the table. The next thing I knew he was diving into the pool causing a small splash to blip on top of the water.

I lay back on the lawn chair and closed my eyes. His words kept replaying over and over again.

I want to know everything about you.

For some odd reason, I wanted to tell him everything about me. Maybe it was the vibe he gave or his Prince Charming good looks and charisma, but I wouldn't go there. As I said before, and apparently would have to keep repeating to myself, as soon as I had the opportunity to move out and get away from this disaster, I was taking it.