Evil Stepsister

by Scarlett Jade

  For a while I simply sat there sipping and thinking, thinking and sipping. Periodically, he would come by and top off my glass. I would give him a nod of appreciation and then he would disappear to flirt some more. Frowning, I decided it was time to show what I was made of. I could be fun. Sure, I didn’t have her cleavage, but it didn’t mean I didn’t know how to have a good time.

  They seemed to be having a really good time. Before long, she was looking downright sloppy drunk. In college, I had watched him, Wyatt, as he flirted his way through all the undergrads in our dorm. How many mornings had I walked past his room on the way to the stairs only to come across some poor girl doing the walk of shame from his room? More often than not, he was still sleeping when the chick was skulking out. This I knew from the quiet manner in which the girls tiptoed out the door. It was never a love connection. I deciphered that from the way they could barely meet my eyes while making their exits.

  Here we were, years later, and his game had still not changed—he was seducing, using, and throwing away women. The tipsy lady at the end of the bar passed him a large bill and then he walked her to a waiting taxi. Wow. When he came back to the bar, I tried to act like I wasn’t paying attention, but even after he paid her bill and kept the change, per her slurred instructions, he had still pocketed roughly forty dollars. Holy hell, I was in the wrong business.

  “Oh, I can hear that hamster wheel spinning,” he joked as he washed glasses in the bar sink in front of me. “What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?”

  “I was simply thinking if this career path doesn’t work out for me, I could do your job.” I crossed my arms before me on the bar and leaned over. “What’s it take, a little flirting, a few smiles, laugh at some lame lines? Cake.”

  Leaning closer, he spoke once more, “You think it’s easy, princess? Prove to me that you can do any of those things.” His jaw was set in determination.

  My chin jutted out in response. “Gladly. What do you suggest?”

  “How about a challenge?” He smirked.

  “Just name the time and place.” My eyebrow rose to emphasize just how confident I was. I hoped he took notice. My entire life I had been groomed to win. The Stone name was synonymous with success.

  “Here. Now. You still in?” He stood with his arms crossed over his chest.

  Nodding, I sat up and pressed my shoulders back. “What do you have in mind?”

  ***

  The sun streaming in through gauzy curtains woke me. Immediately, I knew I wasn’t in my apartment. My southern facing bedroom window never allowed in this kind of blinding light any time of day. It was safe to say I had never woken up in a stranger’s bed before, struggling to recall the events preceding it. Slowly, I opened my eyes and tried to gather my bearings. Where was I? Looking to my left, the direction my body seemed to be leaning, I realized I was in bed. His bed. Somehow I had fallen prey to Wyatt.

  Slapping a hand over my mouth, I muffled my need to scream. That rat bastard. He had tricked me. I was still lying there, staring at him, trying desperately to remember everything when he rolled over and smiled at me.

  “Well, princess, way to prove a point. You sure are fun.” He chuckled.

  My stomach rolled. I panicked. Wyatt seemed to recognize where this was headed and sprang to his feet. He hauled me from the bed toward the bathroom, bent me over the toilet, and held my hair back from my face while I threw up my stomach contents. As the seconds passed, it seemed I was going to retch forever. What a way to wake up, in a strange bed, with a virtual stranger, completely hung over.

  “Just let me die,” I moaned while he rubbed my back with his free hand.

  “You aren’t going to die,” he assured me. “You are just going to wish you would.”

  I didn’t need to look at his face to know he was silently laughing at me. For some reason, it almost made me feel better. Almost. Then I remembered the shame I was currently bringing on the Stone family name and stiffened up once more.

  He sighed. I heard it. “Why do you do that?” he asked seriously. “Just when it seems like you might be loosening up, might be calming down, you get all cold again.”

  My shoulders fell. He spoke the truth. I took a moment to wipe my mouth, blow my nose, and swipe at my eyes before I turned to face him. “Was I really fun last night?” I asked quietly.

  There was an almost caring look on his face as he wiped away the last remaining tears with his thumb. “Yes, doll. You were very fun last night.”

  Unsure of whether to be proud or ashamed, I looked up at him through my damp eyelashes. “I don’t remember,” I said.

  “I bet that’s never happened to you before.” He looked at me while awaiting an answer, so I shook my head shyly. “Didn’t think so.” Throwing an arm around my waist, he helped me to a standing position. “Don’t worry. I’ll tell you all about it over breakfast.” I made a face at the mere thought of eating. Still, he pushed. “You’ll love it. I know the cure.”

  Looking up at him doubtfully, I spoke once more, “The cure?”

  “Yup, the hangover cure. We’ll fix you in no time. You’ll be right as rain and cold as ice once more.” He chuckled as he walked bare ass naked back to the bed.

  That’s when I realized with a gulp, I was naked too.

  Apparently, the cure for a hangover was Coke and French fries. At least, that’s what he claimed upon his return from McDonald’s when he hauled me out of the bathroom where I had remained in his absence, just in case, and dragged me out to the couch. Coke and French fries. I never knew. Of course, I had never needed the cure before, either. It made a difference. While everyone else in the dorm was asleep on the weekends, as a journalism major, I was headed to the college paper to get caught up on work. I wouldn’t even return to the dorms until long after brunch and closer to dinner. The routine had served me well through the college years, but it had done nothing to prepare me for the hangover I was currently experiencing.

  “You’re kind of cute when you keep your mouth closed,” Wyatt joked while he crammed fries into his own.

  It was all I could do to nod.

  “Come on,” he urged. “This will help you feel better. Promise.” He watched me for a moment, but I simply sat there, slumped against the arm of the couch, wearing my panties and a T-shirt he had left out for me. “You want to know about last night?”

  Slowly, I nodded again, but I refused to open my mouth. After what I had seen in reverse this morning, there was no telling what would come out next.

  “Okay, I’ll talk, if you eat.” Sipping on a large Coke, he smiled calmly, certain I would bend.

  Involuntarily, I shrank back at the very suggestion. My stomach was rolling just from watching him. Then, my face flushed because I was watching him.

  Wyatt shrugged. “Okay, you don’t want to know about last night. No problem! I guess you can just read about it with the rest of the world on my blog…” He grabbed a few more fries off the pile in the center of the coffee table, and chewed slowly while his words bounced around in my mind.

  With my heart in my throat, I leaned forward tentatively while my shaky right hand reached reluctantly for the smallest fry I could find. I drew it to my lips, took a deep stabilizing breath, sighed, and stuck the fry in before I could change my mind. Then I clapped the same hand over my mouth while I chewed. It seemed like it would never be the right consistency to swallow. After some struggle, I managed to get it down.

  Scared that it was going to make a reappearance, I grabbed the soda he had set in front of me and took several long sips from the straw. Waiting, I could sense something had changed within me. My stomach seemed more stable.

  “Told you,” he said smugly.

  “That is so unattractive,” I muttered.

  “You thought I was attractive enough last night.” He teased.

  “Dear Lord! What the hell happened last night?” I moaned. Obviously, I had once again brought shame to the Stone family name. In the past, such instances ha
d been the result of poor grades and performance anxiety. There was the time I earned less than straight As in high school one quarter. Let’s not forget the only semester I failed to make the Dean’s List. Oh, and the time I fumbled through several stanzas of my piano recital piece when I was four. I am such a disappointment. This, no doubt, would overshadow all those past wrongs, especially if it involved the world wide web.

  “Let me preface this tale with...I don’t have a blog.” He watched for my reaction, then ducked the pillow I had launched at his head. “Now, let me end with—nothing.”

  Staring at him, I waited for the punch line. This made no sense. “I woke up naked,” I mourned. “I’m going to need a few more details.”

  His head was tilted to one side. I rather liked the scruff on his jaw, his messy short black hair, and the twinkle in those Caribbean blue eyes, even if it was the result of annoying me. Somehow I was even able to look past that wrinkled shirt to appreciate those broad shoulders and strong neck. It was all I could do to not study him further. Chances were, he was used to such attention. I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.

  “Yeah, you were naked. I thought you’d be more comfortable if I took you out of that dress.” He smiled at me warmly for the first time.

  Shaking my head, I urged, “Go back farther. Please. What happened at the bar?”

  “Oh, that. You were trying to prove a point, remember?” He pushed the Coke toward me. “Drink and I’ll tell you everything. Promise.” He waited to speak until I had picked up the soda and was sipping on it. “So, we were just about to start our little challenge. I had two shots lined up on the bar for us. That’s when the other chick showed up.”

  My mind was foggy. I squinted my eyes as I struggled to fill that dark void in my memory. Then I slapped my forehead. “Molina! That bitch.”

  “Yes, she made some kind of remark about how you weren’t the type to take a shot and you proved her wrong. In fact, you kept proving her wrong by being the kind of girl to get shitfaced in a bar, to go home with a random guy, and to now do the walk of shame.” He chuckled, then gestured around. “Man, did you show her.”

  “I hate her.” Burying my head in my free hand, I lamented all the errors I had made in the past twenty-four hours because of Molina. Too many, really.

  “What is it with you and that chick?” He sat back as he waited for me to explain.

  “Just tell me how I ended up completely naked first,” I demanded while shaking my head in shame.

  “Bossy. I knew that about you before this, of course.” He challenged me to argue that, but I couldn’t. It was part of my upbringing, although the Stones preferred to think of this as a leadership ability. We were groomed to be quick to take charge of situations and unafraid to delegate duties. Seeing I would remain silent, he continued, “Simple and boring, really. When I took your dress off, you just kept going.”

  My eyes widened. “So, I stripped myself? Anything else I should know?”

  His smile widened to show a perfect set of pearly white teeth. “Well, you did try to take advantage of me.”

  I gasped as my face flushed.

  “Don’t worry, Willow. I didn’t do anything but hold you,” he said softly as he attempted to soothe me from the safety of the other end of the couch.

  “You said I was fun?” My voice trailed off in confusion. None of this seemed like me.

  Nodding, he said, “You were fun. For a while, you relaxed and joked around. There were even a few hours in there that you let people see who you really are. And then, when we came here, because you were in no condition to drive and couldn’t tell me your address, you were all soft and snuggly.” He sighed as he struggled to explain. “It was nice for me. A nice change.”

  “Right, I forgot. Because you are such a man-whore you are used to screwing everything that is anatomically correct!” For some reason, even though he hadn’t done anything and had been a complete gentleman, I was furious. It took me a moment before I realized what had me so upset. He hadn’t slept with me.

  For years, I had watched girls of all shapes, sizes, races, and ages leave his room at dawn, but me he had no interest in. I could feel the tears welling up in my eyes. Maybe I really was completely unattractive. Maybe I really didn’t know how to seduce a man. At twenty-two, I had still only slept with two guys. Two. Both of them only once. Once! What was wrong with me?

  Worse, somehow Jacqueline knew, she could sense it. I would never get the stupid columnist position. How could I ever hope to write advice to the lovelorn, the sexually stumped, if I knew nothing about it myself? No one was more lovelorn or stumped than me.

  The tears threatened to spill over, but Stones don’t cry. So, I leapt from the couch and rushed back to the bathroom. Then I slammed the door behind me. I didn’t mean to. Stones don’t slam, either. Okay, the women don’t. Of course, since everything in the past eighteen hours had been completely un-Stone-like, and especially since Wyatt didn’t know me, he would be none the wiser. Before I managed to even dry my eyes and pull myself together, he was at the door, knocking. Before I could warn him not to enter, he was in the room, tugging me into his arms. I wanted to struggle. I totally meant to push off his strong chest, but somehow he managed to capture me and hold me against him just perfectly so that my head was nuzzled in his neck and my nearly stuffy nostrils were filled with the unfamiliar and completely unique scent of him.

  The worst part? I liked it. For the first time ever, I could feel myself melting into a guy. Through the years, I had snuck in my guilty pleasure, romance novels, and I would read about this. All of this. Never before did I understand. Now I knew what it meant. I knew how it felt to melt into a man. But why...why did it have to be this one?

  “Talk to me,” he murmured quietly into my hair. “What did I do? What did I say to make you cry?” He stroked my long blonde locks and cupped the side of my face while swiping at a rogue tear. I pulled back some, far enough to see the perfect drop perched on the pad of his thumb. It was mesmerizing, watching it float through the space between us until he brought it to his lips. His tongue darted out and caught it. Closing his mouth meaningfully, he stared into my watery green eyes. “Let me swallow your sorrow. Let me fix this, please.”

  There was more unfamiliar action inside me. Something thawed considerably. There was a pounding. It had never happened before, yet this time, I was certain the change happening…it was my heart.

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