Match: A Stepbrother Romance (4 page)

Chelsea was sulking now, moving away from the bed. I could smell another fight brewing.

“I see I’m not wanted here,” she said angrily, gesturing towards my still-flaccid cock. “I’m just gonna leave. You can use your hand to have some fun. Won’t be too big of a change for you, will it, Logan?”

I gritted my teeth, swallowing a nasty reply. We fought so often that it had become second nature.

All of a sudden, a brilliant idea struck me.

My Dad had always hated Chelsea with a passion. I wasn’t exaggerating about that; he straight-up
despised
her, to the point where he’d actually asked her to leave a couple of times when he’d seen her in the house, as rude as that was. He thought she was snooty, prejudiced and annoying, and he also thought it was bad for his public image if she was seen hanging around our house, although that was mostly because of who her parents were. She came from an important political family who vehemently opposed my Dad, and not only that, her father had run against him and the State Governor in their gubernatorial campaign. A lot of nasty things had been said in the media from both sides, so there was a fair amount of bad blood. Dad also worried that Chelsea would tell her parents things about him that they could use in future smear campaigns against him. The Bennetts were good at that; good at twisting the most mundane shit to make their opposition look bad.

So what better way to get back at Dad for hiding an entire wedding from me than to cook up some trouble involving my lovely friend?

“Chelsea,” I said in a faux-nice tone. She turned at the sound of my voice, a hungry smile on her lips. No matter what she said or however much she insulted me, Chelsea always wanted me. Now I was going to use that to my advantage. “What are you doing tomorrow evening?”

“What do you want me to do?” she purred. She clearly thought she was being seductive, but honestly, she was about as seductive as a drunken otter.

I grinned at her, a vague plan still forming in my mind.

“My Dad just got married again. How about you come to dinner with me and my new family?” I asked.

She rolled her eyes. “Your Dad hates me, doesn’t he? Because of my parents.”

I waved my hand. “No, he’s just always been stressed whenever you’ve seen him. He’s like that with almost everyone. But he’d love for you to be there to celebrate his new marriage with us. Oh, and wear something tight and revealing. I wanna show you off to everyone.”

She took the bait, gushing about what to wear, but my mind was already too far gone to hear exactly what she was saying. Dad would have kittens when he saw who I’d invited to dinner, but he deserved it. Normally he’d want Chelsea to leave, especially at a private family event that he didn’t want splashed all over the media—and it might very well be if Chelsea happened to mention it to her parents—but he wouldn’t want to look like a dick in front of his brand new wife and stepchild, so he’d have to grit his teeth and put up with her all night.

That’d show him for keeping shit from me. It was totally childish and probably the pettiest shit I’d ever done, but I needed to do something to make me feel a little better, even if it was petty as fuck.

“Perfect,” I murmured, my lips quirking up as Chelsea outlined her plans to wear a brand new black designer dress she’d just bought; one with a side slit and a plunging neckline that would apparently make even Jennifer Lopez jealous.

I almost couldn’t wait for the dinner. My Dad wasn’t going to get away with his shitty behavior for much longer; not if I had anything to do with it.

I was tempted to message Sasha again and tell her all about what was happening in my life, but there was no point doing that, because I knew exactly what she’d say.
Don’t be a dick to your father; try to see things from his point of view. He must have his reasons, and you don’t want to make things awful and awkward for your new stepfamily, blah blah blah.

Ha. I’d barely even known the girl for a day, and I was already letting an imaginary version of her mentally lecture me.

I had to say, though—I didn’t mind it at all. Not one bit.

Chapter 4

Sasha

There was something wrong with me.

I hadn’t been able to get my mind off Logan all day, no matter what I did. It was ridiculous; I barely even knew the guy! I usually didn’t make it a habit to think about frat-boy jerks I’d met in class, but there was something about him which had held my interest, even before he’d approached me after class and explained his side of things after our argument. And the way he’d messaged me after, making sure he hadn’t offended me—that had been super sweet.

It had also definitely been more than a little flirtatious…right?

Gah! Stop thinking about him,
I told myself for what felt like the billionth time.

When I finally got home after a long day of classes, I was exhausted and couldn’t wait to have a moment to myself. However, as soon as I walked in, I sensed something wasn’t quite right about the scene that awaited me.

I could smell something coming from the kitchen, and it wasn’t a delicious baking smell like one might expect. Instead, there was a smoky, rancid scent in the air, as if something had just been burned to a crisp.

My Mom stepped out of the kitchen a second later, wearing a silly novelty apron and an apologetic smile. She grinned at me, pretending like nothing was weird at all; like it wasn’t totally unusual for me to come home to her making dinner. Honestly, I couldn’t remember the last time she’d cooked. Probably when my Dad had still been alive, I guess.

“Oh, you’re home already, sweetie?” she asked, a nervous tinge in her voice.

“Yep. All done for the day.”

She giggled like a teenager, wiping her hands on her apron. “I wasn’t expecting you so soon. I had something planned for us, but you showed up too early, silly!”

“Well, sorry if I messed up your plans,” I said, barely unable to hide my annoyance at the stench permeating the house as I covered my nose with one hand. “And by the smell of it, I’d say it’s too late rather than too early.”

She blushed a deep shade of pink, and I immediately felt embarrassed for having insulted her cooking attempts. I was really on a roll with being a bitch today, wasn’t I? First Logan in class, and now my Mom.

It was difficult dealing with my mother some of the time, though. She’d been behaving weirdly for a long time now, and it was hard to always have to be the responsible one out of the two of us. At times, I honestly felt like I was her mother, and not the other way around.

“Anyway,” I said. “What’s the special occasion?”

She smiled, clearly glad for the change in topic. “Well, I thought you’d never ask,” she said, clasping her hands together. “Why don’t we sit down at the table together?”

I nodded my approval, leaving my purse on the couch and moving towards the dining table. We lived in a small house, but it was still big enough for the two of us. Last year, we’d decided that we didn’t need a lot of space anymore—mostly because Mom had lost her old job and we no longer had much money—so we’d decided to move from my childhood home to a smaller place. Honestly, I didn’t mind it too much. It was perfectly cozy, and as long as we had a roof over our head, I knew we were luckier than most people in this world.

Thinking about that reminded me of the migrant argument I’d had with Logan in class earlier, and I cringed internally as I remembered how awful I’d been, calling him a douchebag in front of the entire class. No wonder the professor had shut me down. I needed a set of brakes installed on my mouth, pronto.

Mom and I sat down at the table together, and a sentimental expression flashed in her eyes. Clearly something was going on, but I had no idea what it could be.

Ever since Dad died, Mom had gone quite far off the rails. She’d always been a little wild and flighty, but after he’d gone, she’d become downright careless and irresponsible. It wasn’t an uncommon occurrence for me to come out of my bedroom in the mornings to find a stranger in the kitchen; usually some guy Mom had dragged home with her from a bar the night before. I’d mostly gotten used to it, as sad as that was, although I still felt a little stab of guilt whenever I saw a new guy perched up on the chair at the head of the table, which used to be Dad’s seat.

I guess it was hard for Mom to handle things after Dad died. They’d been childhood sweethearts, and she didn’t really know how to face life without him.

“I have some news for you,” she said, inspecting a fingernail as she averted her eyes from mine.

I raised my eyebrows slightly, wondering what she had to say. Had she gotten a promotion at her new job? That would be great, because it would mean we wouldn’t have to skimp as much on our grocery shopping. We weren’t living in abject poverty like some people were, but we had to scrimp and save in order to make things work. I’d worked an after-school job all throughout high school to help save and contribute, and I’d studied hard at the same time, which had paid off after graduation when I’d been offered a full-ride scholarship to my current college, Murdoch University.

I’d always figured that if I tried my best at college and got a good job upon graduation, I could help my Mom even more, financially speaking. Maybe if I did that, she’d feel more secure in life, and she wouldn’t feel the need to jump from bed to bed with a host of different guys.

“Go ahead,” I said. She took a deep breath, and a long silence followed, making me wonder what it was that she wanted to tell me even more. Surely it couldn’t be bad news? She looked excited, but kind of worried at the same time.

“Well, you were away over the break, before the semester started…” she began, her voice a little shaky.

I nodded—that was true. Just before classes had started this semester, I’d spent two months away from home helping for a charity organization in Mexico. My Mom had wanted me to take a paid internship here instead, but it was something I’d wanted to do very badly, so she’d finally caved. Besides, the internship program paid for my travel expenses, and also food and accommodation. All I’d needed to do was show up and work, and it had been a great experience.

“I was very lonely when you weren’t here,” she continued.

Was I imagining it, or was there a slight accusatory tone to her voice? She couldn’t really blame me for leaving for the break. It wasn’t exactly easy for me to see the memory of my dead father being disrespected so often, and that’s exactly what she was doing by drunkenly bringing home different guys every few nights. I loved her, but seeing the path she was taking at the moment really got to me sometimes.

“I understand,” I said, trying not to let my hurt feelings show. “But what’s that got to do with your news?”

“Well…I met a man while you were gone,” she replied.

My eyes widened. Sure, I knew she dated. She dated so many guys that they could reach around the block if you put them in a row in front of our house, but she’d never had a conversation with me about any of them.

Not even once.

“He’s lovely, a true gentleman...I never thought someone like him would be interested in me,” she said, a rapturous smile on her face.

I leaned forward, my eyes flashing with concern. “Mom, you’re beautiful,” I said. “Don’t put yourself down like that. I’ve always known you deserved to be treated well by a ‘true gentleman’, like you said.”

She really was beautiful. As much as I disliked her raucous behavior sometimes, I couldn’t deny the fact that she was a gorgeous woman. Sometimes she got mistaken for my older sister, because even at forty-two, her skin looked perfectly smooth and radiant. Her lithe figure and long, shiny hair didn’t hurt, either.

She shook her head, my words going in one ear and straight out the other. “I wanted to tell you about this sooner, but it was getting more and more serious and it was harder to tell you with each day that passed...and then I couldn’t get hold of you, anyway.”

“What are you trying to say?” I asked, my heart pounding wildly in my chest. Had she gotten engaged to this guy or something?

If only…

“We got married!” she finally blurted out, a cheesy grin taking over her face. “I’m so sorry, honey, but you were down in Mexico, and I couldn’t call because you had no cell signal where you were, and we just…we sort of just did it on an impulse. The only people who came were two close friends of his, for legal reasons. You know, to witness it and all. But I took photos for you!”

She kept going on about it, and I just sat there, opening and closing my mouth like a deranged goldfish. What the hell? I thought she might have gotten engaged, but she’d gotten
married
. She had a new husband, and she hadn’t even told me she’d been dating anyone!

Typical. This was so freakin’ typical of her.

Mom was still talking, all happy and chirpy, while I continued to fight an internal battle inside my head.

The fact that she hadn’t told me what she’d done until after the event really sealed the deal on how I felt about the whole thing. It felt horrible being excluded from such a big event in her life, and it made me feel even more alienated from her than usual.

“Anyway, like I said, we just needed two friends to be there to witness it, and that was it,” Mom finished in a small voice. “In hindsight, I really wish you could’ve been there, honey. But you weren’t even in the country.”

I nodded slowly, robotically. It felt weird to think of Mom being married to another man, because in my head, I still pictured her with my Dad. I suppose having a husband meant she couldn’t sleep around as much as she used to, and we’d have more peace in the house. That was something, at least.

Speaking of our house—what was happening with that?

“Are we moving out?” I asked, finally looking up into Mom’s eyes. “Are we selling this house and moving to your new husband’s place?”

“Yes,” she nodded shyly, as if she were afraid I’d bite her head off. Honestly, I was more than a little tempted. “I already put it on the market and got a few good offers. By the way, his name is George.”

She smiled like some silly teenager when she told me that, and I involuntarily repeated the name in my head.
George.
I guess it was a nice name.

Now that I’d had a minute to mull things over, I had to admit, it was actually quite nice seeing her this happy. Since Dad’s death, it seemed like every smile of hers was totally fake. Now her smile seemed genuine, and I couldn’t help but smile a little in return, as mad as I still was at her for not inviting me to the wedding.

My initial anger slowly diminished as I listened to her rave on about George, and I finally figured that as long as she was happy, I was happy too. I wouldn’t be living at home for that much longer, anyway, so I might as well suck it up for the few years I had left.

“Oh, and you’re going to meet them tomorrow evening,” Mom added.

“Them?” I asked, a skeptical tone in my voice.

“Yes, them. George has a son,” Mom said, still beaming. “He’s your age. I’m sure you’ll get along mighty fine.”

I nodded, feeling a little numb, and I continued to repeat my new little mantra in my head.

As long as she’s happy, I’m happy
.

I thought about messaging a friend to talk about this strange news, and for some reason, Robin wasn’t the first person I thought about texting. Strangely enough, Logan’s name was the first one that popped into my head.

I couldn’t message him, though. We weren’t friends; we barely knew each other, and I was sure that as far as he was concerned, I was just some random girl who he knew from class and a stupid dating app. Sure, he may have been flirting with me earlier, but he had no reason to give a flying rat’s ass about all of my problems.

And yet, I still wanted to reach out to him…