Hard: A Step-Brother Romance (15 page)

BOOK: Hard: A Step-Brother Romance
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What
did I think would happen? She’d listen? She’d care?

Shay
couldn’t figure her own shit out. I wasn’t dropping mine on her too. Revealing
any of my shame would blow my shot with her. I didn’t need her to help me feel
better. I wasn’t a damned child.

Besides,
she wasn’t ready to talk to me. Why would I unload on her? Obviously she didn’t
trust me yet.

Christ,
that hurt worse than the headache.

Didn’t
matter. She was scared. It wasn’t worth fighting and frightening her more. If
she wanted space, she’d get it. If she wanted fucked…

My
cock stirred as she bent to grab her shoes.

There
it was. Back from
its fucking slumber.

That
was a scare I didn’t need. The headache pulsed harder, but at least if Shay wanted
comfort
again, I’d give it. Then maybe she’s realize what a fucking
mistake she made by not letting me actually help.

I
surrendered. I needed a nap and a stiff drink. I waved a hand.

“Have
a good time,” I said. “I won’t wait up.”

“Didn’t
ask you to.”

No,
she hadn’t. Whatever.

I
turned, but she called to me before I made it to the door.

“Zach?”

“Yeah?”

She
twisted her purse in her hands. Her curls bobbed, and her almond eyes widened.

“Never
mind,” she said. “It’s nothing.”

I
didn’t believe her, but I wasn’t arguing. I nodded and let her dress in peace.

The
headache kicked my ass. I crashed in my room as it shifted from annoying to agonizing.

If I
had told her about the pain, she probably would have stayed.

I wasn’t
ready for that pity-party yet. I’d sort out my own problems first before
heaping them on a girl who filled a thirty-five thousand square foot mansion
with her own troubles. No sense scaring off the best thing that happened to me
since the injury. I was lucky enough to be alive. Now, I was lucky that she let
me
comfort
her.

If
only she’d let me do more.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The
fruity drink stashed more umbrellas in the goblet than alcohol. Zach made a
better martini though he’d sooner toss a couple olives in a bottle of vodka and
call it a day. I liked his style.

And
I think I was starting to prefer his company.

Azariah
didn’t notice that my drink still sloshed with the peachy-strawberry mixture.
She ordered another and waved to the three late-comers to our gals night out. Layna,
Heaven, and Nikkole screeched their hellos and bounded to our table.

Layna
flicked her manicured fingernails—complete with blue gems imbedded in the
paint—at the passing waitress. “Cosmo and a water, thanks.” She scooted into
the booth and pulled down her oversized sunglasses. Her dark eyes scolded me with
a single glance. “Girl, how’d you piss off Sweeten that bad?”

Azariah
mouthed a silent apology and scrunched her nose. She pretended to pass a menu
to Heaven though Nikkole wasn’t having any fries or any of my excuses.

“Know
what you do?” Nikkole said. “You take all that money your daddy left you, and
you buy yourself new a hairdo and find a man.”

Nikkole
had a bad habit of picking my greatest insecurity and blabbing it loud enough
for everyone around to hear. The rumble of conversations quieted as she waved a
hand over my outfit.

“Look
at this shit. Button up blouse? Knee-length skirt? Christ, Shay. Let the girls
get some air. Plenty of fine looking men on campus would be willing to play
teacher with you.”

Heaven
studied the menu, dispassionately. She cracked her gum and twirled a finger
around her curls, interrupting the conversation in her usual style. “I’m
getting a salad.”

We
ignored her. Azariah and Layna usually agreed with Nikkole, but Azariah had the
tact to phrase it better.

“You’re
better than this stress, Shay,” Azariah said. “Go buy yourself some fancy
clothes, a new car. Hell, travel to Europe. What do you need school for?”

I
shrugged, sipping my drink instead of answering. It wasn’t about the money. It was
about what I wanted to
do
, how I wanted to help people.

“She
needs to get laid,” Layna said. “Sit on some big ol’ cock and forget all her
troubles.”

Nikkole
snickered. “But Azariah said—”

Azariah
cleared her throat, pushing her drink at Nikkole. “Here. Take this. Shove something
in that fat mouth of yours.”

Oh,
Christ. She
didn’t
. I stared at her. “You
told
them?”

Heaven
still flipped through the menu. She arched an eyebrow. “That you’re banging
your brother? Way to go.”

“I’m
not—”

Banging
him? I stopped myself, but that didn’t make the words any less true.

It was
twice
now.
Twice
I spent the greatest nights of my life in his
arms, cuddled to his chest, slamming on his cock.

I had
no idea what happened last night, and so I panicked. I didn’t talk to him. I
didn’t think about it. I didn’t explain. I…froze.

And
when Zach came to talk to me?

I retreated
so damn fast I was lucky I didn’t fall on my ass and reveal everything that
clutched at my heart, fluttered in my stomach, and scared the ever-loving hell
out of me.

“He’s
not my brother,” I said. “He’s my step-brother…if it even counts since our
parents are dead.”

“Still
fucking weird,” Heaven grumbled.

“Heav,
shut your mouth.” Azariah threatened her with a drink umbrella. “It was only once.
She didn’t know who he was.”

I
took another swig. It wasn’t as casual as I thought. I should have stood in the
booth, crashed my glass to the floor, and shouted to the masses
Incest is
Best!

“Oh,
shit, Shay,” Azariah said. “You
didn’t
.”

“It’s
not like that.”

“You
fucked your brother
again
?”

“Really,
it’s not—”

Nikkole
snorted. “I told you to live a
little
, girl.”

“Can
we
not
talk about this?” I asked. “Please?”

Wasn’t
going to happen. My friends cackled with the great and juiciest piece of gossip
since Nikkole’s brother accidentally knocked up his girlfriend and her best
friend—at the same time.

Well,
they weren’t getting any details about my night. I needed to figure out what
happened before I could explain it to them. They didn’t know Zach.

Yes,
he was sexy, but he was also the type who knew it.

Yes,
he was a man-whore, but he sounded so sincere when he reassured me.

Yes,
he was my step-brother, but we didn’t grow up together. Our parents only
married a short time ago, and we were two consenting adults. 

My
friends waited for the dirty details, but the person I
should
have
talked to waited for me at home. He was probably looking for an explanation…or
a sequel to last night’s events. And the way my body still buzzed? He’d get both.

But
I expected him to make a fuss when I brushed him off. Zach usually fought to
the death over a choice of pizza toppings. Pissing me off was his favorite damn
sport. He came to me, and I freaked, but instead of calling me out on it—like
he did
everything
else—he said he…wouldn’t wait up?

The
hollow exhaustion in his voice pitted my stomach more than the judgmental
glances that passed between my friends.

Maybe
Zach…didn’t care?

“Are
you still graduating? Shay?” Layna drew my attention. “If you aren’t student
teaching, can you finish school?”

I
shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“What
about your party?”

Seriously?
Professor Sweeten ripped my heart out, and they worried about the damn
graduation party?

“I
don’t know.”

“We
need
that party!” She spun the straw in her water. “Fine. We’ll move it up. Screw
graduating. We’ll have a
Shay Is Free
party.”

I
didn’t want to be free. In fact, I wanted to be so layered in school work,
chalk dust, and demerit slips I’d be
dreaming
the ABCs when I got home.

“Maybe?”
I frowned. “I’m not feeling like partying.”

Layna
huffed. “You mean to tell me you have a giant ass house, pool, tennis courts,
and gold fountains, and you don’t want to
party
?”

“It’s
not that. Of course I want to celebrate.”

Maybe.

“Good.
We’re on. We’ll have a big blowout. Fuck graduating. You’re rich. What do you need
an education for?”

I
didn’t need a degree, but a hell of a lot of other kids did. How would I help
them now?

“We’ll
figure something out,” I said. “Can we order dinner?”

Heaven
dropped the menu and flashed me a glance that practically layered Atlanta in
ice.

“Look,
Shay. I love you, but get your head out of your ass.”

The
table quieted. So did the tables surrounding us. Two booths away, someone broke
a breadstick with a crack. She was immediately hushed.

“You’re
a fucking billionaire. You have a car, a house, a future. You never have to
worry about a goddamned thing ever again. So don’t sit here and pretend to be
humble.”

“Pretend?”

Heaven’s
lips pouted even when she was happy. Now that she scolded me? Disapproval was
her superpower, and we hadn’t found any kryptonite to throw at her.

“You’ve
always
pretended that the money didn’t matter. Look at your purse. Your
shoes. Your car. So you lived in an apartment with your mom before college. We
all did, honey.” She scoffed. “I don’t know what’s sadder. You flaunting the
money…or you pretending you never had any to begin with.”

“Heaven,
I didn’t—”

“It
doesn’t matter. Go plan your party. Live in your estate. Fuck your brother. God
knows someone as rich as you can get away with whatever you want.”

“That’s
not true!”

“I don’t
even know why you’re sitting here with us,” Heaven said. “You’ve been checking
your phone every ten seconds since we got here. Do you have somewhere better to
be? Bank’s closed, sweetheart.”

“Holy
Christ, Heaven.” Azariah frowned. “What climbed up your ass?”

Heaven
returned to scouring the menu. She gave Azariah a pissy glance. “Just ask her
what you wanted. Tell her why we came out tonight. Go on, Zar. Ask her.”

I
swallowed. “Ask me what?”

Azariah
was in no mood. Even I never riled her up that much. “Drop it, Heaven.”

“I’ll
tell her if you don’t.”

Azariah’s
nails were too sharp to risk getting her angry. I laid a hand over her wrist.

“What’s
going on?” I asked.

Azariah’s
gaze lowered. Something told me she wasn’t really reading the advertisement for
the double fudge brownie sundae.

“I
meant…to ask you for a loan.”

“A…what?”

“My
car’s in bad shape. I need a new alternator and breaks.”

I
swallowed. “Oh.”

“Just
a loan. I’d pay you back.”

My
best friend of fifteen years should never have looked that ashamed to come to
me for help. “Of course.”

The
rest of the table shifted, taking awkward sips of their drinks. Azariah
shrugged at the other girls.

Layna
was the first to speak. “Books this year were expensive. I was going to ask
too.”

I stilled.
I suddenly understood. Layna nudged Nikkole with an elbow into her side.

Nikkole
smiled. “Trey is getting married. I have to buy a dress.”

I
didn’t know what to say. “You…all want loans?”

Heaven
showed me her broken phone. “My screen’s cracked. I need a new cell before this
one dies.”

“Oh.”
My stomach twisted. “I mean…I don’t know.”

Azariah’s
voice softened. “I don’t think the car will make it through the week.”

“Well…I
want
to help, but—”

Heaven
snorted. She tossed her phone into her purse and muttered to Layna. “Told you
she wouldn’t do a damn thing.”

“Wait!”
I said. “Why didn’t you think I’d
help
? You know that I’d do anything
for you.”

“Would
you? Now?” Heaven’s tone was too sharp for a girl I let copy from my homework all
freshman year. “You don’t need us. Why would help out your so-called friends
when you could sit up in your mansion and fuck your brother?”

“Don’t
you dare!” I groaned. “Look, I’ll do whatever I can, but you guys
know
my trust hasn’t kicked in yet. I don’t have the money.”

“How
do you afford the house?”

“My
dead
father’s estate pays for the upkeep.” I gritted my teeth. “You really think I’d
deny you guys? Well, Heaven, you can screw yourself, but you three…” I
swallowed. Azariah, Layna, and Nikkole had the decency to look away. “When you
said to come out tonight…you weren’t trying to help me with Professor Sweeten
at all. You just wanted…money?”

Heaven
sipped her water. “Told ya’ll.”

“Know
what?” I dug through my purse and found two crumpled twenties. I tossed them on
the table. “There. That’s everything I have on me. Divvy it up. I’ll sell off a
fucking rug or something tomorrow. You can have whatever you need.”

Azariah
tossed her purse to Layna and tried to follow. “Shay, wait.”

“I
gotta go,” I said. “Thanks for the invite out, but I should get back to my
brother
.”
I eyed Heaven. “Make sure he survived our
fucking
last night.”

Yeah,
that wasn’t a good thing to shout in a crowded restaurant. People stared, but I
was too mad to be ashamed of my behavior.

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