Based: A Stepbrother Romance (Extreme Sports Alphas)

by Hamel, B. B.

  “Not really. I asked him one time what his favorite TV show was and he said the Power Rangers.”

  “This was when we first met,” I said.

  “I assume it’s still true?” Aubrie asked.

  “Of course. Like I said, they’re the definition of awesome.”

  We laughed together and Jess smiled.

  “Okay, Aubrie, I might as well ask. What’s your favorite show?”

  “Hannah Montana,” I said immediately.

  She laughed. “No, not even close.”

  “Pete and Pete?”

  “Getting there.”

  “Are You Afraid of the Dark?”

  “What’s with the vintage Nickelodeon shows?”

  “That was the peak of TV programming.”

  “Well, you’re on the right track.”

  “Okay, one last guess.” I gave her a long look. “Rugrats?”

  She burst out laughing. “Yes!”

  I gave her a triumphant grin. “I knew it.”

  “So you both love old children’s shows?” Jess said.

  Aubrie shook her head. “No. I mean, it’s not like I watch it anymore. But it’s the one show I can say definitely affected me.”

  “Yeah, same here with the Power Rangers.”

  “Okay, I get that. We’re almost finished here, so bear with me.”

  “Bring it on,” I said, grinning at Aubrie.

  “Lincoln, what do you think about your mother’s relationship with Aubrie’s dad?”

  “I don’t think about it much, honestly. She seems happy.”

  “Care to elaborate?”

  “She likes Cliff. She really loves Aubrie.”

  “She does?” Aubrie asked.

  “Absolutely. You didn’t know that?”

  “I mean, we get along. But I didn’t know . . .” she trailed off.

  “You’re practically the daughter she never had and always wanted.”

  “But I’m nothing like her.”

  “Yeah, exactly. She always wanted a smart little nerdy kid to rear.” I paused and grinned at her. “Which is why she was disappointed when she got me.”

  “I doubt she’s disappointed. You’re smart too.”

  “Not in the way she wanted. Not like you.”

  Aubrie looked thoughtful. “I guess now I feel bad that I hadn’t come home sooner.”

  “Don’t worry about it. She was probably too busy feeling proud to care about that.”

  Brie just nodded and stayed silent.

  “What about Aubrie’s dad, Lincoln?” Jess asked.

  “He’s fine. We get along.” I wasn’t interested in elaborating. Jess knew that I was lying, but that was okay with me.

  “That’s it? He’s fine, end of story?”

  “Like I said, I haven’t been around much.”

  “And yet he’s done a lot for you lately.”

  I glared at Jess. “Yes, he has.”

  “And yet he’s just ‘fine’?”

  I paused for a second to imagine all the different ways I wanted to smash the cameras.

  “Cliff has done a lot for me lately. But I wouldn’t say we really know each other.”

  “Why would he help you if you barely know each other?”

  “I suspect my mom had something to do with it. Or maybe he can see the real good citizen inside me, hiding behind all these tattoos.”

  Aubrie laughed softly but it didn’t seem to reach her eyes.

  “What do you think, Aubrie?”

  She looked at Jess. “About my dad helping Lincoln? I think he’s just doing what anybody would do. We all know Lincoln isn’t a bad guy, just jumped from a building he wasn’t supposed to and got unlucky on the landing.”

  “He broke the law,” Jess pressed.

  “Yeah, he broke the law”—Aubrie paused—“but breaking the law doesn’t make him a bad person.”

  “Okay. I think we’re set.”

  “Really?” Aubrie asked.

  I unclipped my mic and stood up. Once the light indicated that the camera was off, I turned on Jess.

  “What was that shit?” I asked her.

  “Just trying to get something out of you.”

  “By ambushing me?”

  “You handled it well.”

  “Fuck handling it well. You know the real answers to those questions.”

  “Lincoln,” Aubrie said, standing.

  I looked at her and then back at Jess, aware that the crew was staring.

  “Keep pushing, Jess. I’ll go back to jail before I let you control me.”

  She smiled innocently. “Wasn’t my intention, Based.”

  I clenched my jaw and walked away. Aubrie said something to the crew, but I didn’t hear her, way too pissed off to think clearly. I kicked open the door and walked across the house, not stopping until I was in the game room surrounded by the pinball machines.

  Aubrie wasn’t far behind me.

  “What was that?” she asked.

  I shook my head. “Nothing. Just pissed about all this.”

  “I’m sorry, Lincoln.”

  I looked at her for a second and realized she was serious. “Why are you sorry?”

  “I know my dad is forcing you into this. I guess Jess is using that to play off you. That’s probably why she wants me to be around, as an antagonist or something.”

  I shook my head. “I know her game. I shouldn’t let it get to me.”

  She perked up and smiled. “Despite that, I think it went pretty well.”

  I laughed. “Oh yeah. We only bickered on camera once.”

  “That’s what siblings do.”

  “We’re not siblings,” I said flatly.

  “You called me sis.”

  “Just to piss you off.”

  She looked away. “It worked.”

  “What do you want me to say, Brie baby?”

  “I don’t know. I’m just trying to make you feel better.”

  “Thanks. But the only thing that would fix this is if my legs magically fucking worked again. And I didn’t have prison hanging over my head.”

  “You don’t have to be an asshole about it.”

  I clenched my jaw. “I know. But apparently I can’t help it.”

  Her face remained blank. “Okay. I hope you feel better.” She turned to leave.

  I sighed. “Aubrie, wait.”

  She started for the door. I limped after her, ignoring the pain in my joints, and grabbed her arm. It was the first time I had touched her since the kiss, and immediately I felt myself stiffen. Her skin was soft, and her lips parted slightly as she looked back at me.

  “I shouldn’t take it out on you.”

  “No, you shouldn’t.”

  “It’s just a lot of shit.”

  “I know.”

  “And I can’t stop thinking about the other night.”

  “Lincoln . . .”

  “I know. It’s wrong. But fuck, I can’t get that kiss out of my head. Your lips, your fucking perfect body, it’s the only thing I want.”

  “We can’t.”

  I moved closer to her, pulling her body against mine. She didn’t resist, but she turned her head away.

  “Fuck can’t. I know you want this too.”

  Suddenly she put her hands on my chest and pushed me away. I stumbled a step back. Her expression was fierce.

  “You could go back to jail, you know.”

  “What?”

  She clenched her hands into fists. “If we get caught, if my dad finds out. He could have you sent back to jail.”

  “That’s what you’re afraid of?”

  “You just got back into my life, you asshole.”

  “Brie—”

  “No. Stop. You’re my stepbrother. I have a future and so do you. Drop it.”

  I crossed my arms. She was so fucking sexy, her whole body tense and pissed off. I could barely keep myself from grabbing her and throwing her against the wall.

  But I was so angry, too. Angry at all the shit
in my life. Angry at my bullshit career and my fucked-up legs and Cliff’s insane, controlling tactics.

  “Fine. If that’s what you want, Brie baby.”

  “Stop calling me that. Just, it never happened, okay?”

  “It never happened.”

  “No kiss. We’re friends.”

  “Yeah,” I said. “We’re just friends.”

  “And talk to your mom about the charity event.”

  “Fine. Anything else?”

  Her expression softened. “Nothing. I hope my dad lays off you soon.”

  “Me too.”

  She looked like she wanted to say something else but shook her head instead. She turned and walked out of the room.

  I stood there and watched her go, anger running through my veins. I didn’t totally understand what had just happened, but I knew I had fucked it up.

  That seemed to be my thing lately.

  Chapter Thirteen: Aubrie

  It was so hot in my room. I didn’t remember it being so hot, but apparently my room was an oven. My fan was broken, true, but there should have been some air conditioning on somewhere in the house, right?

  But I knew that wasn’t the truth, even as I thought it.

  It was what he’d said to me. The look in his eyes. It kept ringing through my head. Your lips, your fucking perfect body, it’s the only thing I want, he had said. And at the time, the only thing I could think about was my dad sending him to jail, or his career getting destroyed because of the bad press, or even my own position at the lab getting compromised.

  I sighed, sliding out of bed, feeling slightly damp from sweat. I pulled on a pair of shorts and slipped out into the hallway, not exactly sure where I was going.

  The carpet was soft under my bare feet. I padded down toward the opposite end of the house and was about to head downstairs when I heard the soft sound of piano playing in the music room.

  I should have turned away. I should have ignored it. But I knew who was inside there.

  And he was right when he said that I wanted him too.

  Quietly I walked over to the door, knocked twice, and then pushed it open. Sitting in front of the piano was Lincoln, wearing only navy blue gym shorts. I gaped for a second at the tattoos running along his muscled body and the way his arms moved as he played.

  “Going to stare all night?” he said gently.

  “No.” I shut the door behind me and leaned up against it.

  He didn’t look up. “You can come in. I won’t bite.”

  “I couldn’t sleep.”

  “Yeah. There’s a lot of that going around in this house.”

  I should walk away, I thought. Instead, I moved farther into the room and sat down next to the piano, my back against the wall. Lincoln didn’t look over at me, just kept his eyes on the keys and kept playing.

  “That was weird, earlier,” I said.

  “Which part?”

  “The interview. Jess was being a real bitch.”

  He didn’t respond, just kept playing. I watched him in silence for another minute, staring at his ripped, shirtless body and listening to the soft, gentle music. The contrast between his playing and his chiseled torso was strange, but I couldn’t help but stare anyway. He looked like he was concentrating, though I wasn’t sure if that was on the music or on ignoring me.

  “Have you heard anything else from my dad?” I asked him.

  “No.”

  “Did you talk to Jules?”

  “Not yet. Tomorrow.”

  I made a face. “Is this how it’s going to be?”

  He kept playing. “What do you want, Brie?”

  “I don’t know. For you to look at me, maybe.”

  He sighed and looked over at me, his eyes piercing into mine. “Better?”

  “No, not really.”

  He smiled softly. “I didn’t think so.”

  “I’m not here to fight with you.”

  “Good. I’m not in the mood for that either.”

  “Okay. Cool.”

  He looked away and kept playing for a minute while inwardly I kicked myself. What the hell was I doing? He clearly didn’t want me around, and could I blame him? There was so much shit going on for him, so much crap keeping him awake at night. He didn’t need me around annoying him as well.

  “You going to sit down there all night?” he said, cutting through my thoughts.

  “Where else should I sit?”

  He stopped playing and moved over on the seat. “Come on, I’ll teach you something.”

  I stood up and laughed. “I don’t think so.”

  He pointed at the bench and I sat down next to him. “I’m a good teacher.”

  “I’m a worse student. I don’t have a musical bone in my body.”

  He grinned hugely. “I’ll give you one.”

  It took me half a second to get it. “Oh, nice. Real mature,” I said, but couldn’t help but laugh at how corny it was.

  “Look, it’s simple. I’ll teach you ‘Chopsticks.’”

  “Fine. But don’t take it personally when I screw it up.”

  He laughed and put his fingers on the keys. “Here, watch once.”

  He played through it slowly and I watched, not really getting it. He played it again, even slower.

  “Okay. I think I can play it,” I said.

  “Really?”

  “No, not really. I told you I’m the least musical person in the world.”

  He grinned. “Here, put your fingers here.”

  I reached out and put my hands on the keyboard. “Here?”

  “No, like this.” His hands were warm and firm on mine as he gently placed my fingers in position.

  “Oh, okay.”

  “Now press down.”

  I hit the keys. Somehow, it made the right noise but seemed off anyway.

  “Good,” he said. “Now you move here.” He took my hands again and moved me, pushing me down. He kept his hands on top of mine, his touch lingering, as he pushed me down. We pressed the keys together, the sound filling the room.

  I could feel myself beginning to breathe more deeply. His arm was pressed against mine and our legs and shoulders were touching.

  “Good. Now here,” he said, moving our hands and pressing the keys.

  “I’m great at this.”

  “No worse than I was when I first started.”

  “Yeah, did you teacher move your hands like this?”

  He grinned. “Not exactly.”

  We went through the song twice like that, his hands guiding mine gently but firmly, our bodies close together.

  “Now, you do it on your own.”

  I shook my head. “It’s going to be terrible.”

  “That’s fine. Do it anyway.”

  I put my fingers in place and pressed the keys, moving my hands at the right tempo.

  “Good, now . . .” he said as I moved my hands. “Good. Hit it there.”

  I pushed and it sounded surprisingly okay.

  “Awesome, now shift,” he said.

  I moved my hands and finished off the stanza.

  He laughed. “Great. You’ve officially played chopsticks on your own.”

  I stopped playing and grinned. “I’m such a talent.”

  “You’re not bad. We’ll have you playing Mozart soon enough.”

  “Yeah, right. I think this is the extent of my piano career.”

  He was still sitting right next to me, our bodies closer together, his face inches from mine. I was suddenly intensely aware of his skin and the ink running all through it.

  There was a pause. “You have a lot of tattoos,” I said lamely.

  He looked at himself. “Yeah, I guess I do. They’re addictive.”

  I reached out and touched one on his arm. “Is this from a videogame?”

  He laughed. “Yeah, it’s from Halo. Used to play it a lot on the road. I guess it started to mean something after a while.”

  “I didn’t realize you were such a dork.”

 
“Hey, it’s the least dorky of all video games.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, right.”

  He grabbed my hand and moved it from his arm to his chest. He pressed my fingers down on another tattoo, this one of a skull with a snake and a rose running through it. I blinked and felt excitement jolt through my core as I realized I was touching his ripped chest muscle, his skin smooth under my fingers, his breath coming in deep and even.

  “What about this one?” he asked.

  “Um. What about it?”

  “It’s the newest. Dorky?”

  “No. I mean, not dorky.”

  His hand felt tighter around mine. My head was spinning at his closeness, at how badly I wanted him. The little voice in the back of my mind that usually kept me from doing something stupid was dead silent.

  “Lincoln . . .” I started.

  “Don’t talk. Not this time.”

  And then he crushed me in a deep kiss.

  His right hand stayed on mine, pressed up against his chest, and I could feel his heart pounding. His other hand came up and cupped my face as he kissed me deeply, our tongues touching again, a chill bursting through my spine. I wanted it, wanted it badly, and couldn’t pull away. I couldn’t imagine pulling away.

  And then I threw my arm around him, crushing his lips even tighter, and knew I wasn’t going back.

  He adjusted our bodies and wrapped his arms around me, pulling me up against his hard body as he kissed me hungrily, our mouths and lips working together. Desire flooded through me, filling my every inch and corner.

  His mouth pulled away. “Fuck, I’ve been wanting this for so long,” he said as he kissed my neck.

  My hands roamed along his muscled back. “We shouldn’t. But I don’t care anymore,” I groaned.

  “Good. Fuck should or shouldn’t.” His lips found mine for a second.

  He stood, pushing the bench back and pulling me to my feet. I gasped as he practically tore my shirt off. I wasn’t wearing a bra, and the cool air bit into my skin. He looked at my breasts hungrily and I blushed. I hadn’t had a guy stare at my body in a while.

  “You’re perfect,” he said.

  “That’s just a line.”

  His hands grabbed my breasts, working my nipples as he pressed against me. I could feel his dick, stiff against my leg.

  “Not a line.”

  “Fuck, Lincoln,” I groaned as he kissed my chest and neck.

  “Tell me you’ve been thinking about this for years.”

  “No,” I whispered.