Stepbrother: The Game He Plays Page 2

  “Since tomorrow’s Thanksgiving, maybe Friday we could stop by the salon and get our hair done?” she suggested. I knew her cheeks had to be hurting by now from all of the smiling. I also knew her hair was recently dyed so her invite was actually her encouraging me to do something with mine.

  “Why? Don’t you like my hair?” I snapped.

  “No, no … I like it,” she said trying to backtrack quickly. “I thought you’d like to hang out and maybe have a girls’ day. We could get our hair done, get a manicure and pedicure … go shopping!”

  “Sure, whatever,” I said bending forward to pick my bag back up.

  She remembered me with long, shiny blond hair. I always had highlights and the newest style but since my father lost his job and money became tight, I let my natural dark brown hair grow out. And right now, as it was mangled in a ponytail, I really shouldn’t be upset with her for mentioning fixing it. It needed it. Her weekly letters to me were always filled with money and suggestions to buy myself something nice. I never did. I had a growing savings account from it though. One day, I would give it all back to her in a letter telling her to never contact me again. One day.

  After she showed me to my room, I drank a cup of coffee with her and Bill. He wanted me to wait up and meet his sons but I asked to be excused for the night to take a shower and unpack. Reluctantly, he agreed. Before I walked out of the kitchen, I stopped and turned around.

  “Thank you for doing this.”

  “Doing what?” my mother asked in confusion.

  “Letting me stay here with you.”

  “Karley,” Bill said holding my mother’s hand, “this is your home as much as it is mine or your mom’s or our boys’ home. We’re a family.”

  I didn’t know how to react to his words. Your home … our boys … we’re a family.

  I didn’t respond. The few brief moments seemed to last an eternity before I could walk away from him.

  “Good night, sweetie,” my mother whispered, but I was already out the door.

  I thought twice about unpacking at all. I would only be here for a few days. But a part of me was looking forward to having my own space again even it was only temporary. When I opened the closet, it was filled from top to bottom and side to side with clothes and shoes they had bought me. There were several jackets and coats and a variety of shoes from black boots to heels. She even bought me gym shoes. Stacks of sweaters were folded neatly on the shelves alongside sweatshirts. More shirts and at least a dozen pairs of jeans hung neatly on hangers. It was a lot more than I would need for the next week or the four weeks I was supposed to come back for during Christmas break due to my father being out of town again.

  I refused to let his money and charm buy me the way it had her. With a mighty force, I pushed all of the new clothes to the back of the closet and began hanging what I packed in their place in the front.

  When I realized I’d forgotten my purse downstairs, I opened my bedroom door and heard voices other than Mom or Bill’s in the kitchen. They must have belonged to Bill’s sons, Joe and Justin.

  My mom had explained that, like me, Bill’s sons were in town from college—Yale—for the Thanksgiving holiday and would be leaving in four days to return to college until coming back for Christmas break, too.

  The laughter coming from the kitchen echoed throughout the house. I thought about still going downstairs to get my purse but that would mean meeting Bill’s sons. After one quick look in the mirror I decided there was no way that was going to happen. I would wait until tomorrow.

  Lying on my new bed in the darkness of my new room, I began to cry as thoughts of everything that had happened to my family flooded my mind. The pain was unbearable. I wanted to call my father. I needed to hear his voice. But he would hear my pain and he didn’t deserve that—not after all he’d been through because of her. Instead of the call, I sent him a quick text to tell him good night. It would be best for both of us.

  After I sent my text, I heard someone coming up the stairs. Whoever it was walked past my room and into the next room over, shutting the door. It was one of the boys. He must have known I was here now. He must have just had no interest in meeting me. I understood. I had no interest in meeting him. Either of them.

  The knock on my door startled me.

  I pretended to be asleep as the door began to open. Mom pretended not to notice as she pulled the covers up to my chin and kissed my forehead gently.

  As she closed the door I heard her tell someone, “She’s already asleep.”

  The unfamiliar deep voice replied, “That’s all right. I can wait a little longer.”

  Chapter 3

  Two of a Kind

  I woke up to the smell of frying bacon and the sounds of male voices laughing the next morning. Both were coming from downstairs. With one eye open, I stared at the bright red numbers on my clock.

  10:14.

  I stayed in bed for the next few minutes inhaling the delicious smell and listening to the echoing laughter filling the house. I didn’t want to see Bill or meet his sons, but I couldn’t stay hidden from them all day … or for the next several days. My thoughts of wondering when I should go downstairs were suddenly interrupted by the realization that I was probably the last one awake. They would all be there. Waiting for me. My stomach dropped. I pulled my knees up to my chest and waited. It didn’t last as long as I hoped. Within minutes, I took in a deep breath and slowly rolled myself out of bed.

  The birds were chirping. The sun was shining. Everything about this morning was perfect … except everything about this morning.

  It hadn’t been a bad dream. I was here. Vail. The lump in my throat began to swell. I swallowed it quickly and surveyed the beauty surrounding me.

  The shades of the lamps and the pillow cases had hand-sewn designs of flowers and butterflies on them. Burned into the wood beside the patio doors was a collection of butterflies, all different sizes and wing designs, and all of them floating toward the doors and up toward the sun. From my mother’s telling me in the past about Bill’s love for woodworking, I knew it must have been his creation for me. An offering of peace between us. Something to bring me closer to him. I touched a few of them and surprisingly, thoughts of him brought a smile to my face.

  Maybe he wasn’t a bad guy?

  My mother told me he was a good man. A man who would do anything for his sons and especially, anything to protect them.

  Sitting in the corner of the room, on a small wooden stool, was the doll my mother had given to me when I was a child. I walked over to her and picked her up in my arms. One of her eyes was missing, her hair was tattered and torn out in places, and her dress had old grape juice stains on it but she was still beautiful. I thought I had lost her years ago when my mother left. Another smile came to my face knowing she had been here the entire time.

  Safe.

  Waiting for me.

  I placed her back on the stool, took a deep breath, looked at myself in the mirror, and let it out it a huff.

  I looked horrible. Matted hair, glasses, and an oversize sweatshirt was not the look I wanted. Not even to meet them. The Osborne brothers. I decided if I had to do this—which I did—I wasn’t going to do it looking like a hot mess.

  After a quick shower, I brushed my teeth while I searched through my closet. As much as I wanted to put on a new outfit, I didn’t. I wouldn’t give her, or him, the satisfaction. Instead, I put on a pair of jeans and a hooded UCSB sweatshirt. Decided against makeup (and my glasses) and threw my hair up in a quick pony tail. Looking in the mirror, I was satisfied.

  This was who I was and like it or not, to the Osborne family, it needed to be good enough.

  I cracked the door open and the sounds of laughter coming from the kitchen were still echoing through the house.

  Fuck, what is so funny?

  Were they that perfect of a family?

  I rolled my eyes back and without thinking I made a raspberry sound by sticking out my tongue and decided at that minute
, I couldn’t get out of this place and away from the Osbornes fast enough.

  My heart was beating at a pace I was sure would lead to immediate explosion. I had no idea how I would react to his sons … or how they would react to me. I only knew I wanted to see them before they saw me.

  My steps were slow and silent. I didn’t want anyone to hear me. The closer I got to the kitchen I realized I didn’t hear my mother’s voice. I wondered if she was even awake yet. I didn’t want to be down here if she wasn’t awake, or worse, wasn’t here.

  I decided to see if her car was still parked outside but when I turned around, I ran right into the hard, bare chest of a man. He must have been standing behind me, watching me. Waiting for me to know he was there the whole time. Startled, I let out a loud gasping scream and quickly covered my hand to my mouth to muzzle myself. He stared down at me without saying a word, unmoved by the fear he’d caused me.

  He continued to stare silently. I started to take notice of his features. He was a lot taller than me. Muscular but lean. Well defined. His chest was broad and his arms were long and thick hanging closely to his sides with fisted hands. His hair looked disheveled but revealed his entire flawless face. His eyes were a familiar piercing electric blue. I struggled to look away from them until I noticed his jaw locking harder into place. Within a second, his full lips were pressed tightly together, silently announcing his complete animosity toward me.

  “Karley, are you okay?”

  I quickly turned around at the sound of Bill’s concerned voice. Worry filled his blue eyes. I was still trying to catch my breath. When I turned back to face the man, he remained motionless in front of me. Now, his jaw unlocked and the small flicker of a smile formed proving he was proud he’d frightened me—that I hadn’t known he was there.

  “I’m fine,” I said quickly. I tried forcing a laugh but its escape revealed my fear. “I scared myself.”

  “It looks like Joe might have scared you,” Bill said with a laugh.

  Joe.

  I continued to stare up at the shirtless figure still staring down at me.

  “Yeah, I didn’t know he was standing behind me.”

  Bill’s oldest son was unaffected by his father’s playful efforts of introduction. I continued to follow his uncompromising face as he walked by me.

  “Joe,” Bill said when Joe passed by him, too. “I’d like for you to meet Karley.”

  “I just did,” he snapped coldly and didn’t stop as he continued past his father into the kitchen.

  “Joe—” Bill started but stopped. “Come on in here, Karley,” he said reaching his hand out for me. “Your mom will be back in a minute.”

  So, she wasn’t here. Great.

  “I want you to meet my other son.”

  Double great.

  When we walked into the kitchen, Joe’s toned shirtless back faced us as he poured coffee into his cup. Standing nearby, on the other side of the island was another tall man. His face looked younger, more innocent than his older brother’s, but it may have been the huge smile stretching across deceiving me as his stare melted into mine.

  His eyes were as blue as Joe’s and his hair as dark but it fell against his head instead of away like his older brother’s. He wasn’t shirtless but I could tell his body was defined like his brother’s and I couldn’t help but stare at him as he made his way over to me.

  “Karley, this is my other son, Justin.” Bill introduced him while smiling and flipping the pieces of bacon in the sizzling skillet with a fork.

  “Hi,” he said reaching his hand out to me. “It’s nice to finally meet you.”

  His hand was soft. His bright eyes danced as he smiled at me. And like his older brother, he was uncommonly beautiful.

  “Hi,” I whispered unable to control my own mouth from forming a smile back at him. I had to force myself to look away from his beauty back toward his father’s handsome face. “Where’s my mom?”

  “We finished the hazelnut creamer last night and when she woke up this morning, she almost had a heart attack because it was gone,” Bill said washing his hands.

  “She’s at the store?” I asked quietly looking out the window at the lightly falling snow.

  “I tried to tell her you’d survive without it.” He laughed and turned off the water. “But she said she had to go.”

  “Just for creamer?”

  But I already knew the answer. I had let my behavior get so out of control to the point that my mother was taking off in the snow in the early morning hours on Thanksgiving Day to get my spoiled, unforgiving ass coffee creamer.

  “She didn’t have to.”

  “Really? You try telling her that,” he interrupted. Although his interruption was still playful, its truth hurt. “I would offer you some coffee but I think we should wait until your mother gets back, don’t you?”

  He laughed again and tossed the towel he’d been using to dry his hands at his youngest son. For a moment, I felt like I would be okay here.

  But Joe reminded me of the truth.

  “It’s not very good anyway,” he said pouring his full steaming cup out into the sink before walking out of the kitchen.

  I stepped back as he walked past me, leaving a cold, crippling chill in his wake. I wouldn’t be okay here. Not if he had anything to do about it.

  “Oh, come on. I tried, man,” Justin called out after him before using the hand towel to wipe off the counter in front of him. He looked back at me and smiled, “I don’t think it’s that bad.”

  I smiled at him nervously as I looked back in Joe’s direction, totally confused at his behavior.

  “Don’t pay any attention to him,” Justin said as I turned back to look at him. “He doesn’t mean anything by it.”

  Bill was obviously upset at the way Joe had behaved. But just as he was with me, he didn’t seem to know what to do about him.

  “He’s been through a lot, Karley,” he said, “kinda like you.”

  I was angry Bill had compared me to him. The two of us were nothing alike. “But it’s still no excuse,” he continued. “Do you know what I mean?”

  My eyes shot to his. I wanted to still be pissed at him. He was telling me not only did I act the same way but that it wasn’t appreciated. I should have apologized. He was right. I didn’t. I turned away and noticed my mother’s car coming up the driveway. I wanted to run out to her and tell her I wanted to leave. I wanted away from him. I didn’t. Instead, I waited silently as Bill walked past me and out to greet my mom.

  “It’ll all be okay,” Justin said quietly walking up beside me.

  “Promise?”

  It was a halfhearted statement, but he took it seriously.

  “I promise,” he said smiling down at me. We stared at each other for a split second before I shyly turned my eyes from his. “The coffee will, too.”

  “Promise?” I repeated giggling.

  “Maybe.”

  My eyes met his bright blue irises again and held.

  There was something about him more beautiful than his brother. More honest and sincere. More accepting of me being here. Whatever it was caused all my anxiety to disappear.

  “Sorry, honey,” my mom said walking through the door out of breath, “we finished the creamer last night.”

  “Mom, it’s okay,” I said taking the bag from her arms. “You didn’t have to go get more.”

  “Well, I had to get a few other things anyway for dinner today,” she said. She was lying. The one thing my mother never failed to do was be prepared for a dinner party.

  “What time is everyone coming over this afternoon, Sandy?” Justin asked.

  “Around one.” She sighed putting her purse on the kitchen table. She looked beautiful. Exhausted from making an early morning trip to the store, but beautiful. “Honey, didn’t the outfits I bought you fit?”

  I glanced down at myself, then quickly over to Justin. Like my mother, he was dressed more appropriately for company. Warmth rushed to my face. I was embarrassed wonde
ring what he was thinking about me now but more angry at her for bringing it to his attention.

  “I don’t know,” I mumbled. From the corner of my eye, I could see his stare still on me. My swelling lungs were burning from embarrassment. “I haven’t tried them on yet.”

  She could see what she had done to me.

  “Sweetie, I didn’t mean—”

  “I’ll try them on later.” I needed this conversation to be over. “Do you need any help?”

  She nodded quickly and released the nervous breath inside her chest. “Do you think all you kids could make sure the table is set for me?”

  “Sure,” Justin said measuring out more coffee. I watched him dump the scoop into the filter, shut the lid, then turn back to me. “Trust me?”

  I nodded playfully, and he crossed his fingers before pressing the button and turning the coffeemaker on.

  Something told me trusting him would be effortless.

  I called Marissa before going back downstairs to help set the table. I was trying to put on my makeup as I talked so I set my phone beside me on the bed and turned on the speaker.

  “So, you think you’ll be okay?”

  “I’ll be fine,” I said tracing my finger around the hand-sewn lace butterfly design on my bedspread.

  “And what about Bill’s sons. Are they nice? And more importantly, are they hot?” She giggled.

  I put my mascara down and quickly glanced at the door. I turned the phone off speaker and dedicated my full attention to our conversation.

  “Well, one of them is.”

  “Is what? Nice or hot?”

  They were both hot, but I couldn’t tell her that. I didn’t want to think of them in that way. I didn’t want to think of them at all. Either of them.

  “No, nice.”

  “Well, what’s wrong with the other one?”

  “I don’t know. I guess he doesn’t like me.”

  “What do you mean?”

  My voice was low. Hushed.