Stepbrother Billionaire

by Colleen Masters

  Life’s funny, isn’t it?

  My dad and I both look up as the front door swings open and a small bundle of fur bounds into the loft. Roxie runs right up to me, whiny with delight to find me still here. When Emerson steps into the loft after her, the same look of relief floods his eyes. He was worried I’d be gone by now. That relief gives way to surprise as he recognizes my dad standing next to me.

  “Bob?” Emerson says, looking back and forth between us.

  “Hi, Emerson,” my dad replies, going to shake Emerson’s hand. “Sorry to drop in unannounced, I just needed to have a word with my daughter.”

  “Oh. Sure,” Emerson says, giving my dad’s hand a firm shake.

  “You guys have a lot to talk about. I’ll get out of your hair,” Dad says. “But, Emerson...I know I have no right to ask anything of you, given how I’ve treated you in the past. It’s just—be good to her. Be better to her than I ever was.”

  “I intend to be,” Emerson says, training his eyes on my dad. “Whatever she decides that means to her.”

  My dad smiles, faintly but resolutely, gives me a final wave, and sees himself out. Emerson and I stare after him as the door closes quietly in his wake. For a moment, the only movement in the room comes from Roxie’s exuberant tail-wagging. When Emerson finally swings his gaze my way, his eyes are full of cautious hope.

  “So...” he begins, “Did your dad have any good advice?”

  “You know what?” I laugh softly, “He really did.”

  “Did that advice involve getting as far away from me as humanly possible?” Emerson asks, taking a step forward.

  “Not at all,” I tell him, countering his step, “In fact, it was just the opposite.”

  “Huh,” Emerson replies, as we slowly move toward each other in a dance of barely-contained desire. “Does that mean...you’ve come to some kind of decision? About what you want to do happen next?”

  “It means that I’m ready to ask for what I’ve wanted for the last ten years,” I reply, as we meet in the center of the loft. I take his hands, take a breath, and take that final leap. “I want to be with you, Emerson. Now and always. I know that what we have is unconventional, and that it’s not going to be an easy journey. But there’s no one else I’d rather be on my journey with. So if you’ll still have me, I’d like to stay here. With you.”

  “If I’ll still have you?” Emerson breathes, taking me into his arms, “I’d give up everything to still have you in my life. Not that I’m suggesting that as a game plan, but...”

  “We’re really going to do this?” I ask, wrapping my arms around his shoulders.

  “We are,” he replies, circling my waist, “No one can stop us, Abby. Not like before. There’s no one we need to apologize to, nothing we have to explain. We’re free.”

  I press myself to him, bringing my lips to his. Our kiss is searing, binding, full of promise and hope. Roxie runs circles around us as our mouths move together, making up for lost time. I grin as I kiss him, happy tears running down my cheeks. As we finally break apart, Emerson brushes a lock of hair behind my ear, gazing at me with great purpose.

  “There’s just one last thing we have to figure out, then,” he says, his voice rasping with emotion as he takes my right hand in his.

  “What’s that?” I ask, wiping the tears away.

  He looks down at my hand, rubbing his thumb over the single pearl glimmering on my finger. I feel my breath catch in my throat as I guess his meaning.

  “Would you rather be wearing this...on the other hand?” he asks, his blue eyes gleaming as they drink me in.

  “Are you...do you mean...?” I stammer, all my composure going right out the window.

  Emerson’s face breaks into a gorgeous grin as he slowly lowers himself onto one knee before me. I laugh with confounded elation as he slips the pearl ring off my right hand.

  “What do you say?” he asks, holding the ring up to me.

  “I say...Let’s jump,” I breathe, staring down at him.

  His smile grows impossibly wide as he slides the band onto my left ring finger. Turns out that I chose my engagement ring when I was just seventeen years old. And you know what? I chose the person I wanted to share my life with when I was seventeen, too. It just took us both a while to realize it.

  Emerson stands and scoops me up into his arms as we both burst into ecstatic laughter. This has to be the least conventional relationship anyone’s ever heard of, but it’s ours. No one can take us away from each other, no one else gets the final say. But there is one last thing I have to ask him, now.

  “Are you going to take me to bed now or what?” I grin, running my hands along his impeccably cut chest.

  He slips an arm under my knees, and carries me toward the bedroom like a bride on her wedding night. We’re getting a bit ahead of ourselves, maybe. But we’ve always done things out of order, Emerson and I. Only now are we catching up to where we left off at eighteen. But if there’s one thing I’m sure of now, after all these years, is that what we have has always—always—been worth the wait.

  Epilogue

  One year later...

  I push down on the top of the french press and pour the delicious-smelling coffee into three generous mugs. Two excited voices banter behind me, and I turn toward them with a smile.

  “Here we are,” I say, setting the three mugs down on the kitchen island, “We can’t plot brilliant business strategy without coffee.”

  “That, my dear, is a fact,” Riley says, gratefully taking her cup.

  “Here, here,” Emerson replies, grabbing one for himself.

  I settle down at the island beside them. The entire surface is covered with outlines, graphs, and ideas. A flurry of excited butterflies rally around my stomach as I look over all our hard work.

  “This is really happening, isn’t it?” I grin.

  “Sure is,” Riley replies, “You guys are ready to launch.”

  “I just have one more feature I want to add to the app, and we’ll be golden,” Emerson says, stepping my way and slipping his arm around my slender waist. “You feeling good, Ms. Founding Partner?”

  “Good and ready, Mr. Founding Partner,” I laugh, clinking my coffee mug to his.

  For the past year, Emerson and I have been hard at work developing a suite of new applications to take the world by storm. The suite will be the centerpiece and first project of our two-person creative collective: Treehouse. We’re the founding partners, CEOs, and only employees—save for our PR consultant, Riley, and our de facto mascot, Roxie. But though we may be small, I feel very good about our operation.

  Our first batch of apps is targeted at friends and family of people struggling with substance abuse. There are resources, information, and support available through this modest suite of applications. There’s even a way for individuals to get in touch with each other, share the burden of living with and loving someone who’s self-destructing. Basically, it’s everything Emerson and I wish we had as kids, everything we were eventually able to give each other...only in app form.

  Hey, it’s 2015, after all.

  “All you need to do is press ‘publish’ and you’ll be good to go!” Riley says excitedly.

  “Would you like to do the honors?” Emerson asks, sliding a tablet my way with the suite of apps pulled up, ready to be launched.

  “We’ll do it together,” I say, taking his hand in mine. I feel his wedding band brush against my hand and get a little thrill. We only just said “I do” at a small City Hall ceremony last month, so seeing his wedding band is still new.

  “Together,” Emerson agrees, “Naturally.”

  “Get on with it, lovebirds!” Riley says excitedly, “I want to put out the press release!”

  With hands clasped, Emerson and I each lower a finger to the “big red button,” and introduce the world to our latest idea. After months of tireless effort, it feels wonderful.

  There may have been a time when starting my own business, launching a brand new p
roduct, and subjecting myself to the crazy world of the internet may have been terrifying. But as I look up at Emerson, I realize that I’ve already taken the biggest, best risk of my life. Nothing can stop me now.

  Scratch that, I think, as Emerson scoops me up into a celebratory kiss. Nothing can stop us, now.

  THE END

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  If you enjoyed “Stepbrother Billionaire” be sure to read below for an excerpt from Colleen Masters’ next book—coming January 2015.

  UNTITLED

  By Colleen Masters

  The night air is warm for the spring as I walk across campus to meet Cara and her friends. I pass other students heading out for the night and feel happy to count myself among them. I go over my rules for myself as I near the crew house, which is just across the street from campus. No more than three drinks. No talking about classes. No weirdness around Nate Thornhill.

  "Brynn!" Cara yells from the opposite sidewalk. I wave as I head over. "I can't believe you got a Lawn Room! That's amazing!" I lean over to give her a hug. She's an effortlessly cool, petite brunette – the kind of girl that everyone considers to be their friend.

  "Thanks!"

  "Holy shit! You got a Lawn Room? Are you, like, a genius or something?" her friend Rachel asks, her jaw dropping.

  "I wish! Then all those papers would have taken me way less time," I reply with a laugh.

  "Cara says you've never been to a crew party?" Marie, the knockout of the group, asks.

  "Nope…just never made my way over here I guess," I reply, downplaying the situation.

  "Well, they have the best parties," she assures me. "And the hottest guys."

  "Lacrosse guys are hotter," Rachel argues.

  "Of course, if you can get a combination of the two…" Marie murmurs, and they burst into laughter. My ears prick up – were they talking about Nate?

  "Hey, you look great, by the way," Cara says to me as we walk up the front steps of the house. "Love that top."

  "Thanks," I say, trying not to glow. A couple guys chilling on the front porch greet the other girls by name, and I blush as I feel their eyes glance over me. I tug my hair self-consciously as one of them grins at me. Two girls hurry past us in the opposite direction. One leans over the railing as her friend barely manages to pull her hair back before she retches into the bushes.

  Sweat and the scent of beer greets us as we walk inside. The lights are dim, barely illuminating the mass of people crowded into the main room, and I feel my heels sticking to the sticky floor.

  "Cara, the love of my life!" a tall, brawny guy says, sweeping her up into a hug. I recognize him from the crew team. Not that I've studied their roster photos or anything…

  "Oh, ha, ha," Cara says, rolling her eyes, though something about the gleam in her eyes tells me she likes the guy.

  "Can I get you ladies a beer?" he asks, nodding to the keg behind him.

  "Yes, please," Cara says. "Hey, Foster, this is my good friend Brynn. This is her first Crew party so treat her nice."

  "I'm always nice!" Foster says indignantly, then bows in front of me and offers his hand. "M'lady," he says as I place my hand in his and raises it to his lips. Marie and Rachel giggle and then head over to another group as Foster hands them their beers. Cara and I follow Foster over to an old, mysteriously stained, couch in the corner. We weave around other scantily clad co-eds, and for the first time in my life, I feel like one of the cool kids.

  I perch nervously on the far left cushion as Cara sits next to me, with Foster on her other side. I slowly sip my beer as he whispers in her ear. I've had beer before, even gotten tipsy a few times with Allison and Miriam when we first turned twenty-one and tried out some wine bars. I just want to make sure I don't overdo it tonight and end up like that girl we passed on the way inside.

  "Where's Nate tonight?" My head whips around as I hear Cara ask Foster the question. My heart stops for a second. I have to admit I'll feel crushed if he's not even here.

  "He's somewhere around, probably getting crushed under a pile of women," Foster replies, rolling his eyes, and Cara laughs. I down half my beer. I can't believe that actually makes me feel jealous. I've never even met him!

  Cara and Foster keep chatting, and though Cara makes an effort to include me, I'm feeling too nervous to contribute much to the conversation. By the time I finish my beer, I really have to pee.

  "Be right back," I murmur to Cara, and go looking for the bathroom. I weave through the sweaty throng to a hallway along the stairs. I see a line of five girls outside of what I assume is the bathroom, and with a sigh, I step behind the last one. The door opens and a guy darts in front of the front girl.

  "Hey!" she protests.

  "Sorry! Emergency!" he cries, and shuts the door behind him. I lean back a little and glance up the stairs. There are several people hanging out on the landing, but it's definitely quieter up there, and I'm sure there's more than one bathroom in this place. Holding my legs close together, I turn around and hurry up the stairs.

  I bypass the first couple rooms with open doors and come to a couple closed ones. I can see a room at the end of the hall that looks like a lounge, with a pool table in the middle of the room. One of these two rooms must be the bathroom. I lean toward the nearest one and press my ear against it. I can't hear anything. I knock softly and wait for a reply, and when I don’t hear one, I slowly turn the knob and open the door. I gasp as it's pulled open and out of my grasp.

  My eyes fly up and into the eyes of Nate Thornhill.

  "I…I…" I stammer. His pupils dilate as he stares at me in amusement. I let my gaze fall down his body. He's naked but for a pair of pale blue boxers. Good lord, his body is ridiculous. The line down between his six-pack abs looks like it was etched in stone. It's suddenly very difficult to breathe.

  "See anything you like?" he asks drily. I snap my gaze back up. A brown curl of hair hangs just over one of his eyes. I clear my throat as I try to think of something to say. I feel his gaze travel over my body in return and desire pools in my stomach.

  "Oh, no, I was—"

  "You wanna join us?" he says, pulling the door open a little more. I glance over his shoulder and see a naked girl in bed covered in rumpled sheets.

  "Nate!" the girl says with a giggle, and pulls a sheet up over her breasts.

  "Come on. If I weren't already naked, I'd say you were undressing me with your eyes," he says smugly to me. I feel my cheeks turn scarlet.

  "No, sorry," I murmur, and rush down the hall and back down the stairs as I hear the girl dissolve into laughter behind me. I run straight out of the front door and down the front steps before I stop on the sidewalk.

  Ugh, I'm such an idiot. I raise my hand to my mouth and wipe the back of my palm across my lips, smearing off my lip gloss. I don't belong at parties like this, and I certainly don't belong with Nate Thornhill. I've never been so embarrassed in my life. And his arrogance! Asking me to join him and that girl as though I actually would!

  Hot tears build up behind my eyes and threaten to spill over. I had such high hopes for tonight, such high hopes for him. And he ended up being so crude.

  I pull my phone out of my wristlet and shoot off a quick text to Cara: Hey, just got a terrible headache. Headed back to my dorm. See you later!

  I head back across campus and to the safety of my dorm room. My phone buzzes and I pull it back out to see her response: Feel better!

  I envy Cara. Everything seems to come so easy to her. She can fit in anywhere, make friends with anyone. I guess I'm just not that kind of person, much as I'd like to be.

  COMING JANUARY 2015

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  Colleen Masters, Stepbrother Billionaire