Stepbrother Obsessed

by Devon Hartford

  “But it’s your home too, Dante.”

  “No it’s not. The only thing here that could maybe be called mine is my mom. But she’s your mom now. I see that. And I want you to have a mom.”

  “She’s your mom too.”

  “Yeah, but I don’t want to make her chose between me and your dad. That’s not fair to her. They love each other. Your dad’s not such a bad guy. He just has a bug up his ass about me. For whatever reason.”

  I’ve never told Dante anything about my real mom. “My real mom was a bit of a ho,” I sigh. “She slept around on Dad. A lot of her boyfriends rode motorcycles or had tattoos.” I cringe as the memories prod at my heart. “I hate talking about her. Anyway, Dad thinks I’m going to turn out like her. You know, because you’re like mom’s boyfriends. Well, maybe on the surface, but I don’t think you’re anything like them.”

  Dante nods thoughtfully. “Now it makes sense. Your dad doesn’t read a lot of books, does he?”

  “Huh?”

  He grins, “He was judging this one by it’s cover since day one.” He cocks a thumb at himself and flashes his dimples.

  “Right,” I snicker.

  “But I’m not here to prove anything to your Dad.” His tone returns to more serious. “I’m here to apologize to you, mi Cielo. No matter what happens, I need you to know that I never wanted a three-way with you and Rox, and it wasn’t just sex. Being with you was…” he stares at his hands. “It was everything, Cielo.” He reaches over and squeezes my hand.

  My heart thrums. I lock eyes with him.

  His emerald gems speak the truth. They flicker in the pink glow of my nightlight. He whispers, “I’ve always run away from my problems in the past, Cielo. But I can’t run away from you. It would kill me. I can’t go, I just can’t. But I won’t be the guy who tears apart your family.” He sounds desperate, torn between the horns of his dilemma. “I won’t do that to you, and I won’t do it to my Mom.”

  “Oh, Tierra,” I moan and throw my arms around his shoulders. Hope floods my veins. My entire body sizzles with optimism. “They’re our family Dante! We can work through this. We can figure this out together. We can convince my dad that you’re not turning me into my mom. We’ll prove you’re a good person. Catarina will back us up. We’ll wear Dad down. We can do it, Dante. Together.”

  “But my mom…” he mutters. “She loves your dad. He’s a decent guy. They need to be together.”

  “We need to be together Dante.” I skooch over next to him on the bed until our thighs are touching.

  His hand lifts and brushes one of my long bangs out of my eyes. He licks his lips and they glisten.

  So do mine. Both pairs.

  “No puedo vivir sin ti, mi Cielo,” he sighs. I can’t live without you, my Heaven. He leans toward me.

  The scent of his dusty leather jacket and tanned skin overwhelms me, hypnotizing me. The entire universe outside my bedroom ceases to exist…

  Knock, knock, knock.

  “Skye?”

  “Dad!” I hiss.

  “Are you awake? I thought I heard something.”

  My eyes goggle at Dante. “Closet!” I squeak.

  “What’s going on, Skye? Is someone in there?”

  Dante stumbles over me, trying to get to the mirrored closet doors at the foot of my bed. His boot thuds on the floor as he stops long to avoid crushing my bare toes.

  “Skye!” Dad calls. “I’m coming in!”

  Dante spins back around and dives between the bed and the wall, landing below the open window. Amazingly, he avoids crushing the window screen leaning against the wall.

  My door opens and Dad leans into the room. “What’s going on in here?” he asks, eyes darting around suspiciously.

  “Nothing!” I spin around on the bed, crossing my legs and leaning back on my arms. I’m trying to cover as much space behind me as possible, sort of like a goalie, only instead of protecting the goal, I’m trying to hide Dante. Well, he’s totally my goal, but you know what I mean.

  Dad narrows his eyes. “What was all that noise?”

  “What noise?”

  “I thought I heard you talking in here.”

  “Just talking to myself,” I cackle. Wow, I sound insane.

  “Why were you talking to yourself?”

  “Reciting poetry?”

  “Poetry?” He’s not believing me.

  “For English class? We had to memorize poems and recite them in class?” I may have done that in 7th grade, and it sounds a bit unlikely for a senior, but it’s all I had.

  “Oooookay. Why is your window open? And why is the screen out?

  “I thought I heard a raccoon outside!”

  “A raccoon?”

  “Yeah! It sounded rabid! I wanted to make sure!” Lies, lies, lies!!

  “Rabid? It sounded rabid?”

  “No! It was, uh, foaming at the mouth!” Guilt, guilt, guilt!!

  Dad frowns, “Then why did you pull out the screen? Did you plan on petting it?”

  “Uhhh…”

  “Dante!” Dad shouts.

  I spin around and see Dante standing up. “Lie down!” I bark. “He can see you!” I don’t know how that’s going to help now, but it seemed like the right thing to say a second ago.

  Dad takes a step into the room. “Get out of here, Dante! Who let you in?!”

  “I did!” I shout, standing up.

  “Why?” Dad growls.

  “Hello! Haven’t you figured that out yet, Dad?!”

  “What’s going on in here?” Catarina gasps. “Dante! You came back!” Her excitement is obvious.

  “God damn it, Catarina!” Dad yells. “He can’t be here! Get out of my house, Dante! Right now!”

  “No!” Dante shouts in his booming baritone.

  The room goes silent.

  Everyone stares at Dante.

  He runs his hand through his hair, sweeping the blond spray off his brow. He gives Dad a pleading look.

  Dad scowls.

  In a frustrated and strained voice, Dante hollers, “Don’t you get it, Gordon?! I love your daughter!! She’s not my sister!! I’m not your son! And Skye is not like her mom! So quit fucking ruining everything for everybody else!!”

  Not only does my heart melt completely, so does every other part of my body. Lungs, spleen, liver, bones, and yes, the yummy bits between my legs. I should sit down. Or put on some yoga pants or something. I think I’m dripping.

  Flustered, my dad makes a bunch of weird noises that are half-words. “I, flab, dyou, koosh, whaz?”

  “I love her, Gordon.” Dante turns to look at me. “I love her. She’s my sky, my world. She’s my everything.” He chews his lower lip. “She’s mi Cielo.”

  I knew it! He meant it the first time he said it! Even if it was in Spanish!

  “Te amo también, mi Tierra. I love you too,” I mutter foggily. I’m about to swoon. I start to weep softly.

  Dante steps around the bed and wraps his arms around me, hugging me tight. In my ear he whispers, “I’m so sorry, mi Cielo. I love you. I love you so much.” His voice cracks with emotion.

  “Oh my goodness,” Catarina sniffles, wiping her eyes with her fingers. “Look at them, Gordon. They’re perfect for each other.”

  Everyone turns to face my dad.

  His scowly face softens for the first time since he laid eyes on Dante. A surge of emotion spirals across his face. He shakes his head slowly, as if dumbfounded. “I… am such… an ass.”

  I repress a blurt of laughter.

  Catarina grins at Dad. Then she wraps her arms around him and coos, “It’s okay, Gordon. I still love you.”

  Dad leans into her and puts an arm around her shoulder. Then he kisses her cheek. “I love you too, mi Gatito hermosa.” My beautiful kitten. Or beautiful pussy, depending on who does the translation.

  Surprised looks lighten all our faces.

  “What?” Dad chuckles, “I know some Spanish too. I’m not that bland and boring.”

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  “Can we have a moment, Dad?” I ask.

  “Oh, sure.” He remains standing in place.

  “In private?”

  “Come on, Gordito, let’s go.” Catarina chuckles.

  “Hey! I’m not fat,” Dad whines. He really isn’t. He almost has a six pack.

  “Only where it counts,” Catarina purrs, tugging on the waistband of his sweats.

  “Oh, gross!” I guffaw.

  Dante winces, “I think that qualifies as TMI.”

  “Obvi,” I groan.

  Catarina drags Dad out of the room and closes my door behind them.

  “Don’t make too much noise!” I yell, hands cupped around my mouth.

  Dante snickers. “Don’t get me thinking about it.” He grimaces and shakes his head.

  A second later my door whips open and Dad leans in. “No fooling around in here, you two.”

  I roll my eyes at him, “18, remember?”

  “Still my house, remember?” he mocks.

  “Whatevs,” I groan.

  Dad pulls the door closed, but stops a few inches short of latching it. “Leave this open. I’ll be checking back every five minutes.”

  “Five minutes?” Catarina blurts in the hallway. “You’ve gotta be good for more than that!”

  Dad smiles gleefully and chases her down the hall.

  I shake my head, “I think we’re a bad influence on those two.”

  “I disagree.”

  “How?” I challenge.

  “Maybe we inspired them with our own love.”

  I roll my eyes and chuckle. “That’s not just a line, is it?”

  “No, mi Cielo. It’s the truth.”

  “I hope so, because it sounds too good to be true.”

  “That’s the thing about love,” he smiles, “true love always is.”

  “Is what? Too good? Or true?”

  “Both.” His eyes sparkle as he leans down to kiss me.

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  I wake the next morning in Dante’s arms.

  “Buenos días, mi Cielo,” Dante whispers. Good morning, my Heaven.

  “Buenos días, mi Tierra,” I sigh. Good morning, my Earth.

  We slept in the guest bedroom. My bed was way too small for both of us. Heck, Dante could barely fit by himself. So we snuck in and used the queen sized guest bed. I was paranoid Dad would check on us at some point, but he never came out of the master bedroom all night. He and Catarina must have used a sex silencer, because we didn’t hear them once. Yes, I closed the heating vent and put a stack of books over it, just in case, but the house didn’t rumble, there was no headboard banging, etc., etc.

  I stretch my arms over my head and yawn. Then I resume gazing into Dante’s eyes. It’s the awesomest thing ever.

  He cups my cheek gently and smiles sleepily. “Esto es el cielo, mi Cielo,” he mutters. This is heaven, my Heaven.

  “Sí, para mi también, mi Tierra.” Yes, for me too, my Earth.

  We kiss softly for a few minutes.

  When we finish, I lazily stroke his blond hair, brushing locks of gold out of his emerald eyes.

  “I’m so lucky you stumbled into my life, Dante.”

  “Me too,” he whispers.

  “How did that happen, anyway?”

  “Pure luck, I guess. We can thank our parents for that,” he winks at me. “If they hadn’t met, we never would have.”

  “I know, right?” I think about that for a second. “But if you hadn’t decided to come looking for your mom, we still wouldn’t have met.”

  “True.”

  “So why did you come looking for her? And why did you ever leave? Catarina is awesome. I love her. I can’t imagine a better mom.”

  He turns his head away to stare at the ceiling and sighs. “It’s a long story.”

  “I’ve got time,” I grin.

  He smirks but doesn’t look at me. “Don’t you have school?”

  “At some point,” I joke.

  He smiles at me but his face starts to flicker uncertainly.

  Maybe I shouldn’t have asked. “I’m sorry. You don’t have to talk about it. Some other time.”

  “No, it’s okay. As you probably noticed,” he quips, “I have a tendency to run away from my problems.”

  I shrug. “I guess. But you always come back.”

  “Yeah, but only for people I love.” He turns to me with a huge grin on his face. “And I love you very much, mi Cielo.” He squeezes me briefly against his side.

  I fold into him. “Me too.”

  “I really need to do something about this running away habit of mine,” he muses thoughtfully.

  A twinge of fear pinches my heart. I hope he doesn’t plan on running away from me again. It would break my heart all over again.

  He says, “When you’re young, sometimes that’s all you know how to do.” He pauses and closes his eyes.

  I watch his brow tighten and bunch as pain plays across it.

  His eyes remain closed as he begins to talk. “After my dad left us when I was 12, things were tough. Back then, Mom didn’t have much money. She was a housewife, not a successful real estate agent. So she took the first waitressing job she could find. Things were really hard for us. We were broke all the time. I got in fights at school and I fought with Mom at home. I blamed her for making Dad leave and ruining our lives. I was such a dick to her. The only time I ever felt normal was when I talked to my dad on the phone. Talking to him made me feel like life wasn’t coming apart at the seams. I would hear his voice and instantly feel better.” A complex dance of emotions is flashing across Dante’s face as he tells the story. “Eventually my dad convinced me I’d be happier living with him. He was always telling me what a pain in the ass my mom was and how easy things would be with him. At the time, I completely believed him. He sent me a plane ticket to La Paz, so I could join him in Baja. I wanted to go bad. Mom was pissed and said no, but I wouldn’t back down. Finally she gave in and took me to the airport herself. When I touched down in La Paz, my dad picked me up and drove me to his place in San Carlos. His house was right on the ocean. At first it was incredible. Me and my dad, kickin’ it Baja style. Surfing every day, kite boarding, fishing for dinner right out of the ocean, my dad grilling up our catch of the day and the two of us eating the freshest homemade fish burritos you’ve ever had. So good. It was hella kick back. I didn’t even have to go to school!” He chuckles. “I just surfed every day. The bad news was, the truth about my dad came out piece by piece. It took me a while to see him for who he was, but eventually, I did. Nothing but empty promises,” he smirks with disgust. “He was the big asshole, not my mom. Going to live with him was a huge mistake. Huge. Being in a foreign country made it worse. Mom couldn’t just hop in a car and drive two cities over to come pick me up. I was stranded.” Dante’s eyes are haunted. He smears a hand over his face. I can’t tell if he’s wiping away a tear, or just wiping away painful emotions. It amounts to the same thing.

  “What happened?” I ask with rising dread.

  He stares at me for a long time, his eyes shimmering. He shakes his head. “You don’t want to know.” His tone is ominous and frightening.

  Based on his strained face, I think he’s right. Maybe some other time.

  “Anyway,” he sniffs, “what a disappointment. I was decimated. When things got way too crazy, I took off.”

  I’m afraid to ask what “too crazy” means, so I don’t.

  “For a while,” he sighs, “I lived with some friends I’d made in San Carlos. But it only takes so long before you wear out your welcome. You piss off someone’s parents or your buddy thinks you’re trying to steal his girlfriend, and out you go. Same old shit every place I went. So I ran away from those problems too, and ended up on the streets.”

  “That’s terrible.”

  He shrugs, “Baja is warm. I didn’t mind. And the streets were the only place I felt like my dad wouldn’t find me…” he trails off and swallows hard.


  Now I’m really afraid to ask about his dad. Something bad happened. I can feel it.

  “Why didn’t you call your mom? I’m sure she would’ve hopped on a plane to come rescue you. She missed you like crazy, Dante. I saw it in her eyes whenever the topic of you came up.”

  He stares at me for a long time. “I guess I’m fucking stupid sometimes,” he laughs with painful irony. “I have an ego, if you hadn’t noticed.”

  I grin at him.

  He heaves a sad sigh. “When I first moved to Baja, I was just a kid. I didn’t really understand what a dick I had been to my mom. When I bailed on my dad, because I finally knew how fucked up he was, I realized what a dick I’d been to my mom. I think I was probably too embarrassed to call her. I didn’t want to admit to her face that she was right and I was wrong.” His face flounders with awkward regret. “But I also wanted to see if I could make it on my own. I wasn’t a kid anymore. People didn’t treat me like one either. Not adults, not girls, nobody. I was becoming a man. And men solve their own problems, you know?”

  “I’m not a man,” I joke, “so only kinda sorta.”

  “No, you’re not,” he grins lustily. “Anyway, when I got sick of street life in San Carlos, I hitchhiked to La Paz and talked my way onto a ferry to Mazatlán. The boat took forever to get to the mainland, but once I landed in Mazatlán, I felt a huge weight lift off my shoulders, like I’d left all my problems behind. A week later, I found a job working at a resort hotel. That turned into working on a cruise ship a few months later. Everybody liked me. I always knew what to say to make friends. I met a ton of cool people on the boat that way. Crew and passengers. Every one of them had amazing stories to tell, and they were from all over the world. That’s when I really started traveling. Either working a different ship or jumping on a plane to wherever the wind blew me. Every time I went someplace new, I was happy. I’d work for a while if I had to, then move on when I got bored. Or got into too much trouble,” he chuckles.

  “You? Trouble?” I quip.

  “Exactly,” he grins. “The adventure of discovery was the ultimate drug for me. It fixed my problems and filled the empty holes in my heart. The next thing I knew, I had been all over the world, and I’d made friends everywhere I went.” The way he says it makes his life sound like a non-stop vacation.