Stepbrother Surrender: A Step Romance Novella (7 page)

           “Well,
I treated you like shit. I mean, obviously right? You remember those days
probably better than I do,” he started.

           I
felt instantly attentive to Brandon. I was jolted from the aimless relaxation
and wondering if this would be the apology I’d always dreamed of, but never
got. Granted, now it didn’t seem necessary.

           Rather,
it seemed like picking at old wounds and I felt tense, despite the massage. I
mean, I’m my
own
person now; the pimply-faced ghost of a younger Brandon
wasn’t haunting me anymore.

           A
new, mature and
fatally
handsome man had taken his place. And I felt an
odd sensation as the negative emotions I’d always felt so strongly toward him,
were being replaced by new positive memories.

           But
Brandon clearly needed absolution.

           “Look,
I’m really sorry about all of it,” he continued.

           “And
I’m even more sorry that I didn’t apologize sooner; but I wanted to tell you in
person, I guess because I thought you deserved that,” he finished.

           I
almost felt tears welling up inside me, but I tried to fight them back.

           “I’m
not trying to excuse it; but I was fucked up. I was sixteen and I’d been
without a dad for a long time,” he started again.

           “And
well, when your dad showed up I guess I just didn’t trust him to stick around.
You guys
were
there for me and my mom but I still treated you like shit;
I just couldn’t believe it,” he finished.

           I’d
noticed that Brandon had an impressive way of clarifying his thoughts.

           He’d
perfected the art of straightforward communication in a way that only a wiser
person could.

           Hell,
I was still very much a slave to my own emotions, but Brandon was a rock.

           I
sat up, looking into Brandon’s eyes; I wanted to tell him that it was fine,
that I didn’t care anymore. I wanted to tell them how much he’d hurt me back
then, too. My mind swirled around.

           I
wanted to cry and scream and hug him all at the same time. But instead, our
gazes locked, we became heated, and he began to slowly lean in toward my lips.

           My
mind was in disbelief as he approached me; my heart was thudding in place and
my breath was held as his lips neared mine.

           Brandon
didn’t feel like a brother to me anymore, he felt like a
man
. A lover.

           I
closed my eyes and felt Brandon’s breath on my mouth before his warm lips
pressed onto mine and the shudder of warmth rocketed throughout my body.

           And
then suddenly it was cold again.

           Brandon
pulled away fast. I saw him for the first time since he’d landed in Miami, looking
embarrassed and ashamed.

           “Wow,”
he laughed nervously.

           “I’m
sorry; that was… kind of weird, huh?” He said, quickly jumping up from the
couch.

           “I’ve
got to go in the kitchen and um, make a drink” he said absent-mindedly before
walking away.

           I
couldn’t believe it. He actually kissed me, but then he pulled away.  What did
this all mean?

          
What
the hell?
I thought to myself, feeling completely confused, angry and
humiliated all at once.

          
Was
I bad? Did he honestly care that much about me being his stepsister or would he
use that as just an excuse?

           My
mind was wild with endless insecurities as I lay there on the sofa, trying not
to make eye contact with him while he made noise in the kitchen. And then I
watched him disappear upstairs for what ended up being the rest of the night.

           I
was hurt, but I was even more furious; furious that he didn’t even give me a
chance to tell him how badly I’d wanted it; furious that he just walked away.

           Brandon
built me up so much with that single kiss that part of me wanted to rush upstairs
and finish what he’d started between my legs.

           But
I was so angry, my body shut down. My sexual appetite would have to wait for my
mind to make any sense of the injustice.

           After
spending several hours wide awake in my room, I thought about what I could do.
There wasn’t much that I
could
do, though. It was in Brandon’s hands,
really; he was the big man, after all – or so I thought.

           I
decided to text Chrissie to see if I could spend the night at her place. I
still have three days until dad came home and hopefully Brandon would be
his
problem.

           “Sorry.
I can’t.” She texted back, leaving me annoyed and without any excuse as to why.

           Perhaps
a little too misguided by my emotions, I even texted Andrew.

          
Brandon’s
going to be sorry he jilted me,
I thought, hitting the send button to a
message asking Andrew if he wanted to watch a movie the next day.

           “Sure.”
He texted back, and I wasn’t sure if that was a happy agreement, or a bored
one.

           I
figured I could at least somehow get a rise from Brandon. He would see that I
wasn’t awkward or angry, but instead way too busy with other guys to worry
about
him
.

           Andrew
was a pathetically weak distraction though, as I fell sleep with Brandon on my
mind.

          
Chapter Four

           The
next evening I came home from school and made myself up just a little bit as I
waited for Andrew.

           Though
I didn’t really feel much of anything for Andrew at that point, I figured I
could at least tolerate him long enough to watch a movie with him. I just hoped
he didn’t take the invitation as a cause to expect anything more, like he
usually did.

           I
hadn’t ever gone farther than a blowjob with Andrew, or any guy for that
matter, and I hoped that he would understand I wasn’t offering anything beyond
a movie that afternoon.

           He
was always a little pushy though, and so I sort of dreaded the moment when he’d
try to put the moves on; usually it was the cliché yawn that turning into his
arm over my shoulder.

           Still
though, I was willing to put myself through it for a couple of hours if Brandon
was going to see.

           He’d
mentioned that he was going to be gone most of the day signing papers at his
new office, but he would be back by the evening. I remembered this and made
sure to schedule my movie date with Andrew for the same time.

           I
was suddenly a little concerned that he
wouldn’t
show up though. After
all, he could just as easily hit a bar afterwards with his new co-workers, leaving
me alone at home with Andrew.

           My
thoughts didn’t have time to wander too far, as I heard the doorbell and I
quickly fiddled with my hair in the mirror one last time before rushing
downstairs.

           “Hey
babe,” Andrew said as I opened the door.  H leaned over to kiss me and I could
smell a beer or two on his breath already. I recoiled.

           It
was supposed to be refreshing to see Andrew after a week apart; I thought as
soon as I saw his cute smile I’d be smitten by him all over again.

           Instead,
I was only reminded of why we broke up in the first place as he pushed his way
into me.

           “Andrew,
come on,” I said politely as he looked at me incredulous.

           “I
thought we’d just watch a movie,
as friends,
” I clarified.

           “I
thought you invited me over here because you finally wanted to… you know,” he
said, grinning slyly.

           “Because
I wanted to
what
?” Now
I
was incredulous.

           “You
said
watch a movie
; come on, everyone knows that’s code for fucking,” he
laughed.

           “I
mean, it’s way past time that you let me get inside that, anyway” he said,
trying to rub my clit over my jeans and my push became more intent.

           “You
just came here from Dave’s house didn’t you?” I asked him, annoyed.

           Dave
was Andrew’s friend and another great reason for why things between us had
fizzled.

           It
was bad enough that Dave’s philosophy on life was (as he’d had the nerve to
explain to Andrew right in front of me) to ‘
get as much pussy as you can,
bro.
’

           When
everyone else was on my side about our break-up, Dave was right there to take
Andrew’s side, applauding him and handing him a beer.

           Dave
was only a loser that was mooching off of Andrew’s popularity at school though;
it seemed obvious to everyone except the two of them.

           I
figured that Andrew would get the message and drop Dave eventually, but instead
he’d gotten into the habit of going to over to his house and playing video games
while downing a few beers.

           The
last thing I wanted was to confront a drunk Andrew
and
tell him that he
wasn’t getting laid.

           “Yeah,
so what if I came from his house?” He taunted me.

           “Look,
I thought we were just going to hang out but if you’re drunk then I don’t know,”
I said, looking away as I crossed my arms.

           “Babe,
I came over here expecting
something
; what are you going to give me?
Maybe some head, at least?” he asked in a tone that made my skin crawl.

           I
couldn’t believe I had thought
this
was a good idea.

            “You’re
acting like a jerk right now, Andrew.”