Greta: Sorry, that was Bentley. He called. I left my jacket in his car the other night and he’s dropping it off.
A couple of seconds later, my phone rang.
“The fuck he is! You’re not letting that guy into the house.”
“He’s just dropping off a jacket.”
“Call him back and tell him he can leave it on the doorstep.”
“I’m not gonna do that. There’s no reason to. Whatever happened is between you and him.”
The call dropped. No, he hung up!
He had some nerve trying to tell me what to do like that without a good explanation.
Ten minutes later, my feet flew off the couch when the front door opened.
Elec was out of breath. “Did he show up?”
What the heck?
“Not yet. Why are you here?”
“You didn’t sound like you were paying attention to me. So, I had no choice but to come home.”
“If you won’t explain to me why you want me to stay away from Bentley, how do you expect to me listen to you?”
He ran his hands through his hair in frustration.
The doorbell rang, and Elec beat me to the door and opened it.
Bentley’s face turned white. “What are you doing home? She said you weren’t here.”
Elec swiped my jacket out of Bentley’s hands and slammed the door in his face. Then, he locked it.
“I’m going after him. Get out of my way,” I said.
He crossed his arms in front of the door. “You’ll have to get past me. And can’t you hear his car taking off right now? He’s a fucking sissy.”
I let out a breath and gave up, deciding to move past it. I didn’t really want to see Bentley but remained annoyed by Elec’s controlling behavior. He didn’t have a right to interfere in my life when he only closed himself off to me in return.
The tension in the air was thick as I walked back over to my plate of food on the coffee table. We didn’t speak for several minutes before I broke the ice. “There’s some takeout Chinese on the counter if you want some.”
Elec still looked irate and didn’t respond. He walked over to the counter, grabbed the container of lo mein and started inhaling it.
“Hungry? Didn’t you eat on your date?”
He slurped a noodle into his mouth. “Nope.”
“Was she upset that you basically abandoned her?”
“No,” he said with his mouth full.
Leaning my elbows against the counter, I asked, “If you didn’t eat, what did you do? Or do I really want to know?”
“Um…Riley wanted to go bowling.”
“I thought you said her name was Kylie.”
He grinned guiltily as he bit into a spring roll. “Whoops.”
Unsure of what to make of that, I rolled my eyes at him and reached for the last spring roll before he inhaled that, too. I took a bite. “I’m getting a movie on Netflix if you want to join.”
He stopped eating for a moment and then just glared at me. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”
“Excuse me?”
“It doesn’t matter how shitty I treat you…you still try to hang out with me.”
It felt like steam was about to blow out of my ears. “No one asked you to come home tonight! I was actually enjoying having the house to myself.”
“Really? Were you gonna lie on the couch with your vibrator or something?”
My heart dropped. My vibrator.
Shit!
It was in my underwear drawer, too. I had forgotten I’d moved it in there after I cleaned out my bedside table. I hadn’t used it in a while and had totally forgotten about it.
He’d taken that too!
He continued, “Look at your face. You just realized it was missing? How have you been getting off? Either your fingers are sore or you must be in serious need of tension relief.”
My face must have turned a hundred shades of red. “You bastard.”
My eye twitched.
“You’re winking at me again. Sorry, I can’t help you out. Maybe you need to watch…a different kind of movie tonight? That might get you off. I have some if you want to borrow one to—you know—wet your whistle.”
His words from the other night once again replayed in my head. “Have some self-respect.”
I’d decided I was done with him tonight. I’d take the high road and go back to my room without saying another word but not before I grabbed the container of noodles and dumped it all over his lap. “Wet that, dickhead.”
His raspy laugh cut through me as I made my way up the stairs.
That night, I was still fuming as I squirmed around in my sheets. Who did he think he was with his passive aggressive behavior? He’d tried to play it off like I was the one seeking his attention, when he’d been texting me during his date before coming home early to intrude on my encounter with Bentley.
My obsessive thoughts continued until about two in the morning when I was interrupted by what sounded like yelling coming from Elec’s room.
CHAPTER 7
Elec was tossing and turning as he cried out, “Mami, please. No! Wake up! Wake up!” His breathing was erratic, and all of his bedding had fallen on the floor.
“Pleeeeease,” he screamed.
My heart was pounding as I shook him. “Elec! Elec. It’s just a dream.”
Still in a state of semi-sleep, he gripped and squeezed my arm so hard that it hurt. When his eyes flew open, he still seemed to be in a haze. Beads of sweat glistened on his forehead. He sat up and looked at me in shock as if he didn’t know where he was.
“It’s Greta. You were having a nightmare. I heard you yelling and thought something was wrong. It’s okay. You’re okay.”
His breathing was still intense and slowly regulated. When his grip loosened on my arm, clarity returned to his eyes.
He let go of me. “This is the second time I’ve caught you in my room when I’ve been in a state of semi-consciousness. How do I know you’re not just hanging out here doing things to me while I’m sleeping?”
Are you kidding me?
I’d had enough of his shit.
Maybe it was the fact that I was wired from no sleep or maybe it was because I’d just hit my limit with all of his jabs, but instead of responding, I pushed him with all my might. It may have been a juvenile thing, but I’d been dying to do it, and this moment seemed to be the straw that broke the camel’s back.
He laughed heartily which pissed me off even more. “Well, it’s about damn time.”
“Excuse me?”
“I’ve been waiting for you to lose it on me.”
“You think it’s funny that you’ve caused me to resort to that?”
“No, I think you’re funny…like really funny. Nothing has ever given me more amusement than busting your chops.”
“Well, great. Glad I could do that for you.”
Fuck. Tears were forming in my eyes.
This could not be happening.
It was almost that time of the month, and there was nothing I could do to control these emotions. I tried to cover my face but knew he had seen the first teardrop fall.
Elec’s smile faded. “What the fuck?”
I needed to just leave. There was no way to explain my asinine reaction to him if I didn’t even understand it myself.
I turned around and left, slamming my bedroom door behind me. I climbed into bed, pulled my blanket over my head and shut my eyes even though sleep surely would be impossible.
My door slowly creaked open, and the lamp was turned on.
“Peace offering?” I heard Elec say.
When I turned around, to my mortification, he was standing there with a dick in his hands. Not any dick. My dick. My vibrator. My purple life-sized rubber penis.
Elec waved it. “Nothing says I’m sorry like a dick and a smile.”
I turned back around and hid under the blanket.
“Come on. Were you seriously crying in there?”
The room was silent as I stayed under the covers. I assumed he’d just leave if I ignored him. I knew I was wrong when I heard a click and a buzzing sound then felt the weight of him on my bed.
“If you won’t smile, then I’ll just have to tickle you with your little boyfriend here.” He touched it to my hip, and I flinched, pushing the blanket off of myself. I tried to grab the vibrator, but he wouldn’t let it go. He continued to tickle me with it in quick movements: behind my leg, the back of my foot.
I was fighting the urge to laugh. “Stop!”
“Not a chance.”
All control was lost when he placed it under my armpit, which caused me to giggle hysterically. His own laughter vibrated against my ear.
How did I end up rolling around in bed in the middle of night with Elec holding a rubber cock against me?
I was laughing so hard that I thought I might die from it.
Death by dildo.
He finally clicked the off button, and it took me several minutes to catch my breath and calm down.
“Why stop now?”
“The point was to get you to laugh. Mission accomplished.” He handed it to me. “Here.”
“Thanks.”
He lifted his brow. “Party in your pants tomorrow night? Should I bring chip n’dip?”
“Very funny,” I said, placing it in my side table drawer and making a mental note to find a better hiding spot for it tomorrow.
He stayed lying next to me with his head leaning against the headboard. Even though we weren’t touching, I could feel the warmth of his body as we lay side by side in silence.
As my eyes wandered to his tanned chest and prominent six-pack, desire started to build inside of me. His briefs were peeking out of the top of his gray sweatpants. His long feet were bare, and it dawned on me for the first time how damn sexy that was. I forced my eyes off him and stared up at the ceiling.
His voice was low. “I really didn’t want to come here, Greta.”
It was the first time he’d ever said my name.
It sounded so good coming out of his mouth. I turned to him as he continued staring away from me when he spoke.
“I was this close to skipping that flight and going somewhere else.”
“What made you change your mind?”
“I couldn’t do that to my mother. I didn’t want her to have to worry about me while she’s away.”
“I see why you didn’t want to be here now. I didn’t understand it at first, but after listening to the way Randy spoke to you, I can understand why you have so much anger toward him. I guess, what I can’t understand is why you took it out on Bentley the other night.”
“Why do you assume that the fight was my fault?”
“Because you won’t explain it to me, and you were the one kicking him when he was down.”
He let out a single angry laugh. “I also look like the bad guy, right? So, every person in that diner just assumed I flew off the handle for no fucking reason other than to beat up that pretty boy for fun. I may have a record…for underage drinking and smoking weed once. But never in my lifetime have I ever attacked someone or even thrown a punch before that night.”
Wow.
“Why won’t you tell me what happened?”
“Because despite what you think and despite the fact that I love messing with you…I don’t really want to see you hurt.”
“I don’t get it.”
He finally turned his body toward me and looked at me for the first time. “That first day when you walked in on me in the bathroom, I wanted to shock you. You said you never saw a guy naked before. I assumed you were kidding. Now, I actually feel guilty about pulling that shit on you.”
I repositioned myself, feeling a little nervous about where this was going. “Okay…what does that have to do with what we were talking about?”
“Fucknut didn’t know I was your stepbrother, so when you left the table, he started bragging about how he was gonna take you to that party next week, get you drunk somehow and fuck you. Your ex-boyfriend made a bet with him that he couldn’t get you in bed because you’re a virgin. If you ended up giving it up to Bentley, your ex was gonna give him 500-dollars.”
I covered my mouth. “Oh my God.”
Elec nodded slowly with a sympathetic look. “So, yeah…I fucked him up.”
“You let everyone think you were to blame. You took all that shit from Randy over it! You were just protecting me?”
“I didn’t know how to break that news to you about what they were planning. But clearly, tonight, my warning to stay away from him wasn’t getting through to you, so I needed to tell you.”
“Thank you.”
“I like to give you a hard time. It started out as a way to get back at my father…torture Sarah’s daughter. But eventually, getting under your skin sort of just became this fun little game. Tonight, when you cried, I knew I’d taken it too far and that for you, it wasn’t a game. As hard as it may be to believe, I never meant to hurt you, and I sure as fuck wouldn’t stand by and let someone else hurt you, either.”
He looked up at the ceiling again, and his lips bent into a frown as he pondered what he’d just said.
I lifted my index finger and brushed it softly across the spot on his lip that got torn in the fight. He closed his eyes, and my heart started to pound furiously as his breathing quickened with every stroke of my finger over his warm lip. “I’m sorry you got hurt.”
“It was worth it,” he said without delay.
I stopped touching him, and he looked at me. The sarcastic glare he used to give me was replaced with a look of sincerity.
Since I had his attention, I used the opportunity to change the subject. “You want to be a writer?”
He returned his gaze to the ceiling. “I am a writer. I’ve been writing since I was a little boy.”
“What’s Lucky and the Lad about? Why were you ashamed to show it to me?”
Looking uncomfortable, he repositioned his body. “I just wasn’t ready to talk about it.” He smiled and hesitantly said, “Lucky was my dog, actually.”
I couldn’t contain my smile. “You wrote a story about him?”
“Sort of. It’s like a supernatural version of my life with him. Lucky was not only my best friend, but he was the only thing that could calm me down when I was younger. I suffered from pretty bad ADHD back then and had to be on medication for a while. When my mother brought Lucky home, my behavior improved dramatically. So, while the story is based loosely on Lucky and me, it’s really about a boy who has superpowers that he uses to help solve crimes, but he can only decipher all the noise in his head when the dog is with him. The dog gets kidnapped as blackmail at one point, and the rest of the story becomes about getting Lucky back. It’s set in Ireland.”
“Wow. Why Ireland?”
“I’ve always had this weird obsession with all things Irish.” He pointed to the two shamrocks on his abs. “Case in point. I think it’s my way of trying to connect to that side of me—Randy’s side—since I have no real connection with him. That sounds kind of fucked up, but it’s the only explanation I have.”
“What happened to Lucky?”
“Lucky died shortly after Randy left my mother. So, it was a lot happening at once.”
I put my hand on his arm. “I’m sorry, Elec.”
“It’s okay.”
Looking down at my hand sitting atop his sleeve tattoo, I thought long and hard about asking my next question. “Why does he treat you like that?”
He looked over at me. “Thank you for standing up to him last night. I wasn’t that drunk. I heard everything you said, and I’ll never forget it.” He closed his eyes. “But I don’t want to talk about him, Greta. It’s a long story, and it’s too complicated to get into at two-thirty in the morning.”
I wasn’t going to press my luck. This was more than I’d ever gotten out of him.
“Okay. We don’t have to talk about it.” After a long moment of silence, I asked, “Can I rea
d your book?”
He laughed and shook his head. “Wow. You’re just a million questions tonight.”
“I guess I’m just excited that I’m finally getting to meet my stepbrother.”
He nodded in understanding. “I don’t know if I want you to read the book. No one’s ever read it. I keep telling myself I’m gonna figure out how to publish it, but I never do. It’s not perfect, but it’s the story I’m most happy with. I’m pretty sure there are lots of mistakes I haven’t caught.”
“I would love to read it. And if I catch any mistakes, I can let you know. English is sort of my thing.”
He smiled and rolled his eyes. “I’ll think about it.”
“Okay. Fair enough.”
When he turned to me again, the gray of his eyes lit up in the lamplight. He made himself comfortable and relaxed into the pillow. “Tell me about your father.”
He was looking at me so attentively, and it touched me that he wanted to know about him.
I sighed and stared off. “His name was Keith. He was a good man, a Boston firefighter, actually. My mom was 17 when she met him, but he was older—in his twenties—so it was really taboo. He was her one true love. We lived a simple life, but it was a good one. I was his little princess. One day, he just started complaining about a cough and within a month, he was diagnosed with advanced lung cancer. It took him from us six months later.”
He placed his warm palm over my hand, which was still grasping his arm. Then, he ran his fingers through my own. His touch felt electric. I never imagined that just holding someone’s hand could make me feel more than anything ever had up until that point.
“I’m sorry you had to go through that,” he said.
“Me, too. He left me some letters, one for every year until I’m 30. So, on my birthday, I read them.”
“He’d be proud of you. You’re a good person.”
I didn’t really know what I’d done to deserve this glimpse into what Elec was like behind the tough act, but I loved it. At the same time, I expected it to end at any moment.
“Thanks.” I caught my eyes lingering on his and abruptly turned away. He removed his hand from mine, and I felt it on my chin as he brought my face back to meet his stare again. “Don’t do that.”
Stepbrother Dearest Page 5
