Based: A Stepbrother Romance (Extreme Sports Alphas)

by Hamel, B. B.

  “I like to party. Do you like to party?”

  The camera cut to Lincoln. “Sure, that’s great.”

  I narrowed my eyes. Was he serious? Was this whole thing for real? Did he seriously spend the whole night flirting with this girl only to come home and fuck me? For a second, I was beginning to feel dirty. I was finding the whole thing really hard to believe, but the evidence was right there.

  The camera cut to Misty. “You’re so funny!”

  Lincoln just grinned at her and sipped his whisky.

  “What is your favorite drink, Lincoln?”

  “I don’t know. I’ve always been a whisky guy.”

  Suddenly, the camera cut and showed Misty’s foot slowly move up Lincoln’s leg. It cut again and showed Lincoln’s grin as he sipped his whisky, clearly not minding her advances. I felt a little sick.

  “You’re so much like Daddy,” Misty said.

  I groaned out loud, and Jess gave me a little smile.

  “There’s something sexy about a man drinking whisky,” Misty continued.

  “Why do you think that is?” Lincoln asked.

  “It’s masculine. I love men when they’re manly.”

  She might be the dumbest person in the world, I thought to myself. And yet Lincoln seemed to be eating her cutesy bullshit up.

  “What do you think is manly?” he asked.

  “I love tattoos, like yours. And men that aren’t afraid of anything, like you.”

  “So you think I’m manly?”

  “Extremely.”

  The camera cut, and the waiter appeared with their food. Misty ordered another drink, “just as dirty,” and Lincoln just smiled at her as she winked again.

  The waiter left. “You know, Lincoln, one of my favorite things in the world is wearing silky, sexy underwear,” Misty said.

  “Right, totally,” he grunted.

  “I think you’d like it. Pink and easy to rip off.”

  “Sounds nice,” he said. The camera cut to him grinning.

  “I can be very convincing,” she said, her foot running up his thigh again.

  “I’m sure you can be, Misty.”

  The scene ended with them eating and smiling at each other.

  Jess closed the player. I sat back, shock rolling through my body. I resisted the urge to wretch.

  “What do you think?”

  I looked at her, struggling to keep my face passive. “Looks like they had fun.”

  “Crazy, right?”

  “I guess so. Isn’t that Lincoln’s thing?”

  “Totally. Do you think it’s too much though?”

  “I don’t know. I really don’t know anything.”

  I wanted to run. I wanted her to get the fuck out of my room.

  How could he flirt with a huge whore like that? I was livid and hurt, but above all, confused. He didn’t seem like the type of guy to go for that sort of obvious and stupid flirting. And yet according to the video, he did.

  Worst of all, he went for her and came home to fuck me later.

  “Is something wrong?” Jess asked.

  “No. Just not feeling good. You caught me at a bad time.”

  She smiled. “Sorry. I can get a little excited.”

  “It’s fine. I think I just need to lie down.”

  “Sure, no problem. Maybe I’ll show you the rest of the footage later. It’s pretty insane.” She stood up and smiled. “Thanks for your help.”

  “Of course.”

  She turned and walked out of my room.

  I put my face into a pillow and screamed. For a second, that made me feel a little better. I was itching with anger and nervous energy. I wanted to run downstairs and confront Lincoln in front of everyone, but I knew that was insane.

  Why would Jess even show me that? I was supposed to be his stepsister. The more I thought about it, the weirder that whole exchange was. She didn’t actually care about what I thought of the scene. In fact, when I said I felt a little sick, she looked absolutely pleased.

  Had that bitch showed that gross scene just to get a rise out of me? I couldn’t rule that out.

  But that didn’t make it any better. As much as I wanted to do something about how I was feeling, I couldn’t risk giving Jess exactly what she wanted.

  Instead, I sat back to kill time until their break. I knew where I’d find him then.

  The asshole better have something good to say.

  I found him playing pinball. Inevitably during the break between the morning and the afternoon session, Lincoln would go into the game room and take out his frustrations on the pinball machines. He used to play piano, but ever since we started sleeping together, he went into the music room less and less. I watched him a few times, but mostly I left him alone, not wanting people to notice us spending time together.

  But it was probably too late for that, considering Jess had probably noticed something.

  I stood leaning against the pool table watching him play the machine, my emotions a mess of confusion and anger. I had a hard time believing it, but I had seen it with my own eyes. Lincoln flirting with the dumbest girl alive, right there on camera, completely shameless.

  Finally, I cleared my throat loudly. Lincoln looked up, surprised.

  “Brie baby. When did you get here?”

  “Not long ago. We need to talk.”

  His grin faded when he heard the tone of my voice.

  “What happened?

  I paused. “Jess came to see me this morning?”

  “What did she want?”

  “She showed me something.”

  He sighed, smirking and crossing his arms. “You gonna keep beating around the bush, or are you going to tell me what’s up?”

  “I’m pissed, Lincoln,” I snapped. “I mean, seriously? Misty?”

  “Misty?” He cocked his head and then laughed. “You mean the idiot from my charity date?”

  “Yes, that Misty,” I spat at him. “Jess showed me the footage of your date.”

  “Okay. So I don’t get why you’re upset.”

  I gaped at him. Was he insane? “Look, I get that whatever is going on between us has to stay secret, and we’re not really dating or whatever, but it was disgusting watching you flirt with that moron.”

  He looked even more confused. “Flirt with her? Are you nuts? That girl was repulsive.”

  “That’s not what Jess showed me.”

  “Fuck,” he said. “Tell me exactly what you saw.”

  I made a face. “I’d rather not.”

  “Listen to me, Brie. This is important. Tell me exactly what you saw in that footage.”

  I stared at him for a second, not sure what to do, but something in his gaze convinced me. I began to recount the whole thing, starting from the beginning. He listened, nodding, until I got to the part about him flirting back.

  “That didn’t happen,” he said.

  “What part?”

  “Her foot on my leg? She did that. And I moved it immediately.”

  “The footage made it seem like you were into it,” I said slowly.

  “What else happened?”

  I finished off the narrative, and his face grew angrier and angrier as I went.

  “That fucking cunt,” he said.

  “So you’re saying she lied somehow?”

  “That stuff happened, but she left a lot out. And it wasn’t all in that order.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Fuck.” He moved closer to me. “Listen, Brie, that girl was insane. Yeah, she came onto me. But I turned her down, flat out, and she lost her shit. I bet Jess didn’t show you that part.”

  I shook my head. “It didn’t really show anything else.”

  “She cut that footage to make it look like I was into Misty. But it didn’t happen that way at all.”

  “Why would she do that?”

  He sighed, looking concerned. “I have no fucking clue.”

  “What if she knows?”

  “She doesn’t know
,” he said firmly. “But something weird is definitely going on.”

  I paused. “And you really didn’t flirt with that girl?”

  His face softened and he wrapped his arms around me. For a brief second, I wanted to pull away, but his face was so concerned and his touch felt so good that I melted into his embrace.

  “No. I promise.”

  “This is crazy,” I whispered.

  “Yeah. It’s a little fucked up.”

  I pulled away. “I should go.”

  “We shouldn’t be seen together during the day anymore. I mean, don’t avoid me, but try not to seek me out, either.”

  “Seems complicated.”

  “I know. Too fucking complicated.”

  I turned and walked toward the door.

  “I’ll figure this out,” he called after me.

  I looked at him and something dropped inside me. I didn’t want to say it, really didn’t want to, but I knew it was the right thing to do.

  “Don’t come to my room tonight. Let’s just pause. For a while, until we figure this out.”

  He stared at me silently for a second. “Okay. I’ll let you know what I learn.”

  “Okay.”

  Walking out of that room was like stepping through hot coals. I didn’t want to leave, knew what it meant, but I also knew that it was the right thing to do. With Jess sniffing around, things were too dangerous.

  As I moved back out into the main house, I realized I had nothing to look forward to for the first time since we had started whatever we were doing.

  I hoped I wasn’t making a huge mistake.

  But I already missed his hot touch in the deep night.

  Chapter Eighteen: Lincoln

  I woke up shaking, drenched in sweat. It was the same old nightmare, but it was the first time I’d had it since I started sleeping with Brie.

  Fuck, not being with her was worse than blue balls. It was like dream blue balls. Something about her made me sleep soundly, without the body-shaking nightmares that tore apart my nights before her.

  I climbed out of bed, dressed, and washed up, pissed and determined. How many more days would start like this? How many more nightmares would I have to deal with?

  Despite the dream, my legs felt a little bit better. Every day was a small improvement. Tracey was shocked that I was gaining back so much flexibility and that my pain was slowly decreasing, but it made sense to me. If I was going to put in hours every single day of grueling and intense physical therapy, I damn well better see some results.

  Plus, I wasn’t the type of man to do anything half way. If I was going to rehab my legs, I was going to do it completely.

  I moved down the steps, heading for the far wing of the house. Determination was etched on my face, and although I knew I didn’t have much time before I had to show up for PT, I knew I couldn’t keep letting this shit go on.

  I pushed open the door to the side patio. It was a glass-enclosed room, cooled in the summer but without heat in the winter. Plants lined the windowsills and simple furniture filled the space.

  Sitting in an armchair, exactly where I knew he’d be, was Cliff. He glanced up from his paper as I entered.

  “Good morning, Lincoln. Haven’t seen you in a few days.”

  “Cliff,” I said, nodding.

  “Come sit down. Coffee?”

  “Sure.”

  I hobbled over to the small table, pulled out a chair, and sat down across from him. I poured myself a cup of coffee from the metal carafe he had placed on a silver tray.

  Typical fucking Cliff. Even on a normal morning he acted like he was royalty. Yeah, I had money too, but I hated acting like I had it. There was a line between rich and obnoxious, and Cliff crossed that line at every opportunity.

  “What can I do for you?” he asked as I sipped my coffee.

  “We gotta talk.”

  “Okay.” He put down his paper and pulled off his reading glasses. “Let’s talk.”

  “You know what your producer did yesterday?”

  He shrugged. “Probably something that pissed you off. If I had to guess.”

  “Yeah. Damn right she did.”

  “I’m not sure I want to hear about it, Lincoln.”

  “Too bad, because I’m telling you. It involves your daughter.”

  He paused. “Okay, fine. Go on.”

  “You remember that charity auction my mom put on?”

  He nodded but didn’t answer.

  “Well, I had to go on a date with some horrible woman. Her name was Misty. She admitted to being a stripper.”

  “Seems right up your alley.”

  I ignored that comment. “Misty came onto me hard, but I turned her down. Really awkward situation, and Jess got it all on camera.”

  “What’s this have to do with my daughter?”

  “I’m getting there. Anyway, I turn this girl down, she goes psycho, the date ends. I figure that was all there was to it.”

  I paused and sipped my coffee, letting the suspense build. Cliff kept staring at me.

  “Yesterday morning, Jess shows some footage to Aubrie. Apparently, in that footage, I’m flirting with this Misty girl. Somehow, Jess cut up the footage to make it look like I was into that nut job.”

  Cliff blinked. “Were you?”

  “No. That’s not the fucking point, though, is it?”

  After a second, he stood and paced across the room, standing at the window.

  “Why would Aubrie care about that?” he asked me.

  “That’s what I’m trying to figure out,” I lied. “You heard about the incident with the camera guy?”

  He looked at me. “Thanks for that.”

  “You’re welcome. But I was thinking about what happened. It was pretty weird that he was the only drunk one out of the whole crew. And how they somehow knew to follow him around, trying to get a good shot.”

  Cliff narrowed his eyes. “What are you getting at?”

  I leaned back in my chair and sipped my coffee, letting it sink in. “The footage and Aubrie. That Brent guy and Aubrie. It all seems a little weird, doesn’t it?”

  “Are you accusing me of something?”

  I shook my head. “No, I’m not. But I am trying to figure out why Jess is trying to fuck with everything.”

  “I don’t like your tone.”

  “Of course you don’t,” I sneered. “I’m hitting a little close to home, aren’t I?”

  He looked out the window and sighed, putting his hands behind his back. I watched as he stood there for a minute in absolute silence, looking out across the lawn at the scrubby trees lining the property’s edge.

  I sipped my coffee, content to wait. This was the important part. Depending on how he reacted, I would either be completely fucked and heading back to jail, or I’d have a chance.

  “Do you know why I’ve invested in you, Lincoln?” he finally asked.

  “Because I’m talented and rich. Also famous.”

  He stared at me. “That’s true. But those aren’t the only reasons.”

  “Why don’t you tell me, then?”

  “You have something magnetic about you. People want to be around you. That’s a huge part of why you’ve been so successful, despite the fact that your sport isn’t exactly popular.”

  “Are you flirting with me?”

  He smirked. “Don’t be an asshole. You’re a celebrity. That’s all there is.”

  “What does this have to do with your producer being a psycho?”

  “You lost something, Lincoln.” He stared down at me. “After that crash, whatever made you magnetic was gone. Like it broke more than just your legs.”

  I clenched my jaw. “Maybe being confined in a house with a man I despise doing a documentary I hate is what you’re sensing.”

  “Maybe. But I think you lost a step. You used to be Based Carter.”

  “I’m still Based Carter, asshole,” I growled.

  I knew losing my temper wasn’t the best idea. Cliff held all the c
ards, had all the power. He could send me to jail if he wanted to. But I wanted nothing more than to slam my fist into his smug fucking face.

  “That’s better, but still lacking something.”

  “What do you want, Cliff? What’s all this about?”

  “Money, you idiot,” he said. “It’s always been about money. You think documentaries pay for all this shit?” He gestured around himself.

  I snorted. “No. Never thought that.”

  “But you, you have a talent for bringing in money, getting sponsorships. I don’t know if you’ve talked to your business manager lately, but your accident only made you more popular.”

  I shrugged, playing it off, but I hadn’t known that. Truthfully, I was hiding away from the world until I got my shit together. I wasn’t interested in doing appearances as the crippled athlete. That wasn’t my style. My business manager’s emails have been sitting in my inbox, unopened and unread.

  “I thought I lost something.”

  He grinned. “You have. But they don’t know that yet.”

  Fucking prick. I wasn’t sure how long I was going to be able to keep looking at his face without hurting him.

  “Get to the point. I have therapy soon.”

  “I told you to stay away from my daughter,” he said. “But you clearly ignored that.” He moved back over and sat down in his chair, leaning forward. “I don’t give a shit, though, so long as you don’t infect her with your stupidity. But I’m starting to think, maybe you’re distracted?”

  I raised an eyebrow. “Distracted how?”

  “Maybe you’re too comfortable here. Aubrie is being too nice to you.”

  “So you what, try and get some dickhole to rape her?”

  He shook his head. “I had nothing to do with anything that’s happened.”

  “What’s with this whole fucking speech then?” I growled.

  “I want you to get that thing back, Lincoln. When your legs are back, I want you to return to making huge piles of money. Jess, the documentary, it just wasn’t doing it.”

  “So, what? You think pushing my buttons is going to help?”

  He clapped and grinned. “Exactly! I told Jess to stir the pot. Suggested maybe Aubrie would be a good way to do that.”

  “What the fuck,” I said. “You’d use your own daughter like that?”