SCORE (A Stepbrother Sports Romance) (5 page)

“You’re really going to a party with Brad?” I asked, disdain evident in my voice.

“Yeah, so? Brad seems nice, and he’s cute.” She looked at me with eyes suddenly cold and hard.

“Whatever,” I answered, pretending not to care when in fact, the thought of her and Brad together made a hot, red anger well up inside me. I had no right to say anything, so I kept my mouth shut. One thing was for sure, though. I was going to be at that party, no matter what.

***

Later that night, I showed up at the party about an hour in and found a large crowd outside the frat house near campus. Brittney clung to my arm, and I let out a frustrated sigh as I had to practically drag her around. My eyes were alert, scanning the crowd for Alyssa. I didn’t see her anywhere and was stupidly hopeful she’d changed her mind.

I was on my second beer, finally relaxing and having fun, when Brittney pulled me out onto the dance floor to dance. In the heat of the crowd, I saw Alyssa with Brad. They were dancing really close together, his hands on her hips. I felt that same hot anger and stormed away, leaving a wasted Brittney in the middle of the dance floor.

Walking upstairs, I ignored the couples making out. I stood alone, trying to calm myself down, and finally decided to just go home. I wasn’t having much fun watching Alyssa get hot and heavy with one of my teammates. I pushed through the horny college students on the stairs and froze as Brad suddenly appeared, pulling a girl upstairs.

I was surprised it wasn’t Alyssa and immediately wondered where she was. I made my way across the dance floor, searching the crowd. I stumbled outside the frat house, worrying that I hadn’t found her inside. Then I spotted her as I turned to go back into the house. She wasn’t too far away, standing alone.

I hurried over to her. “Alyssa!”

She looked at me, and I saw tears pouring down her face. “What?” she asked, sniffling and wiping away tears.

“What’s wrong?” I asked her, placing my hand gently on her arm.

“Nothing…it’s stupid.” Her voice was shaky and quiet.

“Is it Brad?” I asked quietly. She nodded, the tears flowing more freely. I reached out and folded her into my arms. “C’mon. Let me take you home.” I guided her to my car.

As we drove home, she explained through her tears how Brad had made a move on her but that she didn’t want to sleep with him. She told me he ditched her after calling her a bitch and refusing to give her a ride home.

“I’m so sorry, 'Lyssa,” I said, angry at Brad for treating her like that. She deserved so much better.

“I’m just tired of guys not liking actually me and only wanting to sleep together,” she said, her voice hollow and sad.

I bit my lip against the instinctive assurances and the smoldering anger, wanting to tell her that I liked her—and maybe more—but I kept my mouth shut. I helped her inside and upstairs.

Once we were in her bedroom, she sat down. She looked up at me. “Blake, can you stay with me tonight?” Her eyes stared at me, desperate and pleading. She looked so vulnerable and so helpless that I couldn’t leave her. So I crawled into the bed with her, holding her tightly as she cried herself to sleep.

As I laid awake, holding her in my arms and watching her innocent face as she slept, I felt something stir inside of me. No one had ever made me feel so protective—bordering on possessive—and I vowed to myself that I would make it my responsibility to make sure no one ever hurt her again.

“You deserve so much better,” I whispered to her, kissing her forehead lightly before falling asleep.

Alyssa

I jerked awake, the sunlight pouring through the window hurting my eyes. I was immediately aware of strong, warm arms around me, and I lifted my head. Blake held me close, even though he was fast asleep. I sat up quickly, my body immediately cold without his next to mine. Worried that our parents might notice, I quickly shook him awake. He opened his eyes, and I clambered out of the bed, hissing, “Hey, you have to get out of here.”

He rolled out of my bed and slumped to his bedroom without a word, and I went into my bathroom to take a much-needed shower. I struggled with a hollow, empty feeling inside myself. Being held so comfortingly had made me feel so safe, and I felt a deep longing to be back in his arms…almost as if I belonged there.

After an hour, I headed downstairs to find my father and Debbie in the living room. I said a quick good morning and went to the kitchen to start a pot of coffee.

I looked at my phone for the first time in twelve hours. I had a bunch of unanswered texts from Maggie. I simply texted her back,
Meet up for lunch to talk?
I made my coffee as I waited for her to reply, and when she did, I grabbed my car keys, grateful to get out of the house without having to face Blake. I needed time to deal with my budding emotions, and I didn’t know how to interpret his actions. Was he just being protective like a brother? The way he held me last night made me think otherwise.

I was crunching on a salad as Maggie drilled me with questions. My body was grateful for the food, and my headache faded. “Look, I’m just done with guys for a while,” I said to her after she ranted for twenty minutes about what had happened between Brad and me.

“I don’t blame you,” she agreed, then asked curiously, “So how did you get home?”

Staring intently at my salad, I said, “Blake was there. I rode home with him.”

“Wasn’t he with his girlfriend?” Maggie asked, disgust in her voice.

Maggie had hated Brittney since we were in high school together. Brittney had been horrible to me all senior year, and she was always making nasty comments. I was over it, but Maggie tended to be a little more dramatic than me.

I thought about the party, remembering that Blake was with Brittney at the beginning and that they had seemed pretty close, dancing together and her clinging onto him throughout the night. I wondered if they had gotten into an argument or something. I shook my head and told Maggie, “I don’t really remember what happened. It was late, and I wasn’t exactly sober.”

Maggie and I finished lunch and headed to the mall to do some shopping. I didn’t really need anything, but I wanted to avoid going home for as long as possible. We were walking around the mall when my phone vibrated with a text message from my father.
Family dinner. Be home by 6.

With a sigh, I told Maggie we had to go soon, and I had a nagging feeling in my stomach as I drove home. I walked in the house, greeting my father and Debbie, and took my bags upstairs. I quickly changed and headed back down.

“So, where we going?” I asked, joining them, noticing Blake still wasn’t downstairs.

“Your father made reservations at a new restaurant downtown,” Debbie said, smiling at him.

“Great.” Our traipsing round the mall had made me hungry. As casually as possible, I asked, “Is Blake joining us?”

“Absolutely.” A snarky voice came from behind me. I whipped around to see Blake descending the stairs.

“Alrighty then,” Dad said, and we followed him outside and piled into his SUV.

I spent the long ride to the restaurant contemplating whether or not I should talk to Blake about last night. We seemed to have a really bad habit of ignoring the things we did and not talking about them. Obviously, this wasn’t working, and we kept finding ourselves in the same confusing, hazy situations, patching over everything and not dealing with our emotions. It didn’t feel clever or healthy, so I decided I would try and talk to him after dinner, a heavy knot roiling in my stomach just thinking about it. Getting everything out in the open would put everyone back in the place they belonged.

After a long dinner of catching up with my father and Debbie, I was relieved to finally get home. I thanked Dad for dinner and went upstairs, my hands clammy and a little shaky at the prospect of talking to Blake. Taking a deep breath, I knocked on his door, and he yelled for me to come in.

“Hey.” I greeted him, entering the room. He was playing a video game and paused it. Tossing the controller aside, he looked at me expectantly. I crossed my arms, shifting awkwardly. My palms were sweaty, and I was nervous, starting to doubt the effectiveness of this idea. I stayed where I was, forcing myself to do what needed to be done.

“What’s up?” Blake asked with a frown after my silence stretched uncomfortably.

“Look, Blake…” I began awkwardly. “I want to talk about last night.”

He didn’t say anything for a moment. He looked bewildered and even a little embarrassed by the mention of our emotional moment. “Don’t worry about it,” he finally said nonchalantly, trying to smooth over the situation with his usual, cool-guy persona. “We were both drinking, and you were upset about Brad.”

“Right,” I said, shaking my head slowly. “I just feel like we have to be…more careful.” My tone was neutral, but his look told me he knew I meant the past incidents between us. Something flickered in his eyes, and I looked away, trying not to think about the hot, desperate kisses we had shared. “It’s just… Our parents seem really happy, and I think we’re going to have to be around each other for a long time. I don’t want to risk complicating anything,” I said, watching his reaction carefully.

Blake nodded. “Don’t worry about it, kid. We both know it didn’t mean anything.”

“Right,” I replied softly, knowing that, for me at least, it had meant something.

***

Over the next few weeks, I could feel a distance growing between the two of us. Except for our weekly tutoring sessions, I avoided Blake as much as possible, which proved to be relatively easy, considering our busy lives. It was hard to describe, but the more I forced myself away from Blake, the emptier I felt, as if he filled some sort of deep and desperate void inside me.

I shook my head. I had spaced out thinking about Blake
again.
It was the week before finals, and I was studying as much as possible, but I just couldn’t focus. I let out a sigh and flipped through my book, grateful winter vacation was just around the corner.

Thirsty, I decided to go get some water, grateful to pull my attention from the textbook in front of me. I waltzed downstairs but stopped halfway down. I could hear angry voices floating up the staircase. I stayed where I was, listening intently, indulging my curiosity.

“How can you still be doing this badly?” I heard Debbie ask exasperatedly.

Blake returned a snarky comment. “Whatever. I’m trying, okay? Just back off.”

“Back off?” she asked coldly. “This is your future, Blake. You can’t just half-ass it.”

There was silence for a moment. My father’s voice, gentler and more yielding then Debbie’s, said, “You study with Alyssa, right? Maybe you guys need to work harder, study more often.”

Blake’s voice was quiet as he responded, “I feel bad. She’s already doing so much. I can’t ask her for more help.”

“Blake, please think about this,” Debbie said desperately. “This is your future. You have to do better. You simply have to.”

“We’ll figure it out, Blake,” my father reassured him.

The conversation ended, and I heard movements. I quickly shot back upstairs, not wanting to get caught eavesdropping. I was walking into my room as Blake walked up the stairs.

“Hey,” he greeted, trying to disguise his bitter tone with nonchalance.

“Hi,” I replied, giving him a small smile because I felt bad for him. He turned to go in his bedroom and impulsively I called out, “Hey, Blake?”

He spun around slowly and walked over to me. “What’s up?” he asked expectantly.

I bit my lip before answering, wondering if offering him more help would be good for us. I knew he wouldn’t ask me, and I genuinely wanted to help him. “Listen… I overheard the conversation with our parents.” I internally flinched at the mention of
our
parents because I didn’t want to be reminded that Blake and I were technically siblings. I looked up at him with kind eyes and said, “Look, Blake, I want to help you.”

His face lit up automatically, which made my heart swell with joy. “Really?” he asked quickly. “You don’t mind?”

I shook my head with a small laugh. “No, it’s fine. I have to study anyway, so it’s not a big deal.”

“Thanks,” he said, his tone sincere. “I really appreciate it.”

I couldn’t tear myself away from his gaze, enjoying the kind, happy moment between us. We stood at the threshold of my bedroom, our bodies close, which incited a warm feeling inside of me, like I’d just come home from somewhere far away. This was the proximity I had been craving for weeks. I wanted to reach out and touch him, but I resisted the urge. I should have felt silly or even embarrassed at my blatant attraction to Blake, but he carried himself with the same familiar tension. His jaw was clenched tightly, and his beautiful green eyes were filled with an intensity that stirred a mirrored response within me.

He smiled at me, his face almost wistful in its demeanor, and whispered, “I miss you, kid.”

I watched him walk away after his admission, and I sighed and shut the door, murmuring, “You, too.”

I sat down on my bed, light and dizzy from the moment of nearness with Blake.
He misses me,
I thought with a smile. Regardless, it felt good to know he wanted me in some way, but I quickly reminded myself of our previous conversation. Those kisses we shared meant nothing to him. There was no point in analyzing his words any further, but a hollow loneliness lingered, weighing me down. With a sigh, I turned back to my textbook, not sure what to expect from the week ahead.