My Stepbrother's Arrangement (A Stepbrother Romance) (11 page)

I shook my head. “No, of course not.”

“Of course not indeed. What do you want?”

“Me? Nothing.”

“How are you gonna get drunk then?”

“I wasn’t… going to?”

“Well, we’ll have to change that. Seriously, there’s nothing less fun than being the only sober person around a bunch of drunks. I’ll get you something. It’ll be enough to get you tipsy, but you won’t get so smashed that you black out and wake up in some weirdo’s bed.”

“Thanks,” I muttered, a blush flaming up my face. I was pretty sure that at this point, drunk or not, I knew what side my bread was buttered on. Nobody else was going to make me feel the things Kaleb could. I sat in the car and five minutes later Kaleb came back with a  four pack of coolers, a six pack of beer and a bottle of Jim Beam.

“Alright, now we’re set.”

Five minutes later we were in front of a house where a party was definitely in full swing. I followed Kaleb in as we made it past hordes of people, all in various states of inebriation.

In the kitchen, Kaleb cracked open one of my coolers, handed it to me, then showed me the cupboard where he stored the rest of them, behind a box of popcorn so no one else would see them unless they were really looking.

The drink was fizzy and refreshing, and after just a couple of minutes I could feel it going to my head. I wasn’t dizzy or anything, just a little bit more… relaxed.

Kaleb poured out his drink in a red solo cup, mixed the bourbon with some coke he found in the fridge, and we made our way out to the party.

“Yoooooo Leeman my man, what’s happenin’?” some drunk guy asked as he came over, dressed head to toe in Ralph Lauren, with that perfect “rich guy” combed hairstyle and features that reminded me of the Kennedys. “Who’s the hottie?” he continued, leaning over me to not-so-subtlely check out my cleavage.

“My stepsister, Olivia, Ken. So back off.”

Ken. What a perfect name for the guy. He did look basically exactly like a Ken doll.

“Ohhhh shiiiiit, I didn’t even know you had a sister, bro. Don’t worry, I’ll keep my hands off,” he continued, before moving on. As he walked off, I began to laugh.

I had never really been considered hot by anyone before, not that I knew of. I was too nerdy for that. But here, no one knew me. That was a bonus, I supposed.

A couple of minutes later Kaleb and I got split up. I wandered around aimlessly as music pounded from speakers, people danced, made out and in one case had sex in the middle of the party.

It was pretty much exactly the kind of party you see in the movies when parents go away for the weekend, or like Katy Perry’s Last Friday Night music video. Except this was real life. I hadn’t actually realized that this was what parties could actually
be
like, I always thought they over exaggerated things.

Two coolers in and I was starting to feel very relaxed. My inhibitions were gone. Seeing all the other people making out, I wondered if I could find Kaleb, if we could find an empty bedroom or something somewhere and have sex.

I eventually found him standing on the railing on a second floor balcony, over the top of the pool. The pool was fairly empty, just a few empty cans floating around, a couple pool toys and one girl in the deep end who was struggling to get out and being helped by some friends.

A huge crowd below alternated between not noticing what was happening at all, and cheering like crazy for Kaleb to jump. Standing at the back, I watched as he expertly took off his shirt, while still standing on the railing, without the slightest hesitation. I had no idea his balance was so  good.

As I looked at his muscular back I felt that familiar wetness in between my legs. Was Kaleb really going to jump off and into the pool? God, he was sexy. How on earth did I get to have sex with this man? There were dozens of other girls here, most way prettier than I was. He could have had any of them. Why me?

Suddenly, all the thoughts cleared from my brain. Kaleb turned around, facing the pool now. He was really going to do it, wasn’t he? He was going to jump!

The nerdy part of my brain instantly started figuring out if he could make it. It was going to be close. He’d have to leap pretty far off the balcony to avoid landing on the concrete at the edge of the pool.

But before I knew what was happening, Kaleb jumped.

Of course, this was Kaleb Leeman. This was my stepbrother. The man that I first met when my mom picked him up from jail. The man who got his first tattoo before I was a teenager. The man who now didn’t think that just
jumping
off the second floor into a pool while drunk was a good idea, he just had to do a backflip into it.

The whole crowd was silent for a moment until Kaleb, still wearing his pants at least, cannonballed straight into the pool, shooting a giant wave of water at everyone standing around the edge.

As soon as he hit the water the crowd erupted in cheers as I was awash with relief at the fact that he had done it and hadn’t cracked his head open on the side of the pool.

God, he was hot though. And I obviously wasn’t the only one who thought it. As he climbed out of the pool a whole bunch of bimboes started throwing themselves at him.

Maybe it was the alcohol. Maybe it was the party atmosphere. No, it was probably the alcohol. Anyway, I stormed past all the others and made my way over to Kaleb myself.

He was
mine
, and none of these other bitches were going to get at my stepbrother. Not if I could help it.

As I climbed out of the pool, completely soaking wet, I noticed Olivia coming towards me. She looked mad. I wondered what I could have possibly done wrong.

Ok, fine, I knew what I did wrong. I had just jumped off the second story balcony at a party and into a pool.

Well, I knew how Olivia would consider that to be wrong, anyway. I had personally found it to be a lot of fun. But hey, she was a bit of an old lady that way.

As she got closer though, it was obvious it wasn’t me she was mad at, it was the girls throwing themselves at me.

I honestly hadn’t really noticed them. Sure, I had boobs pressed up against my bicep, and so much blonde hair around me that I looked like the tannest guy at the party, but whatever. Didn’t mean I wanted to fuck them.

Olivia had spunk though. She managed to push and claw her way through until she was right in front of me, grabbed my arm and told me I was coming with her.

“Who the fuck are you?” some girl asked her, and I smiled when Olivia answered “I’m his sister, bitch.” This girl had
spunk
when she was drinking. It was hot.

“Hey kitten, what’s up?” I asked her as she grabbed me by the arm.

“Don’t call me that,” she replied as she pulled me away from the crowds. I didn’t mind. I had to go find a towel or something anyway. I might have been a
bit
drunk, but it wasn’t that bad. I’d been a lot drunker before.

I followed Olivia as she led me past the hordes of partiers who had at that point moved on from my feat, though a few still gave me a pat on the back or a thumbs up as I walked past.

We went into the house and found a bathroom, and Olivia threw me a towel.

“Why on earth would you do that?” she asked me, sitting down on the edge of the Jacuzzi tub. We were in the Hamptons, after all.

I noticed her eyes occasionally dart down to my soaking wet abs, and made sure to put on a show for her as I towelled myself off. She was so hot for me, I would have been willing to bet any amount of money that her pussy was wetter than I was right then.

“For fun. That’s what people do, Kitten. They have fun.”

Her mouth turned into a pout.

“I already told you not   to call me that.”

“And I already told you I’ll call you whatever I want.”

“That’s so unfair!”

“Life’s unfair, Kitten. Get used to it.”

“You’re so mean. Why are you being so mean?”

“How am I mean? I bought you some booze, I took you to a party with way cooler people than you’d ever know otherwise… I think I’m being a pretty good stepbrother.”

“Yeah, but you were always going to come to this party anyway.”

“That didn’t mean I had to invite you.” She was drunk, and belligerent, and it was adorable.

“Then why did you?”

“I dunno, I thought you might want to have some fun.”

“The barbeque was fun.”

“No it wasn’t. Be honest.”

“Why do you hate it so much?”

Fuck, she was a talkative drunk. I didn’t realize a girl could
have
that many questions.

“Why do I hate what so much?

“The fourth of July barbeque.”

“I don’t hate it, it’s just boring.”

“That’s not true. I saw you there today. You hate it. Don’t lie to me, or you’ll never get to see
these
again,” she added, lifting up her top quickly, shirt and bra combined, flashing me her breasts.

Fuck, they were so perfectly rounded.

“Don’t tempt me, Kitten. Your tits are mine now, I’ll do what I want with them,” I told her, and the growing bulge in my pants made me realize exactly what I wanted to do with them. No, I was maybe a bit too drunk to do that tonight.

“Whatever. Tell me why you hate the barbeque.”

Maybe it was because she seemed to care so much. Maybe it was because I knew she didn’t know anyone that I hung out with, that she couldn’t use the info against me. Maybe it was because of the alcohol, but I told her. For the first time in my life, I told someone.

“It’s about my mom.”

It was weird, telling Olivia this while half drunk, hearing a party going on outside, Taylor Swift blasting through the speakers someone had set up. Olivia didn’t say anything, just listened, so I continued.

“When my parents got married and bought the Hamptons house after my dad sold his first company, my mom started doing the fourth of July barbeque every year. So I grew up with it, and I grew up with her doing it. One of my earliest memories was her letting me chop up the vegetables for the salads, and stopping me from cutting my fingers off with the knife.”

I sighed as a bunch of pain came flooding back.

“So when she died, and then my dad started doing it, which was different and weird but ok whatever, and then your mom took over, well, I know it’s not fair but I feel like it’s something for
my
parents, for my mom to do with my dad, and I don’t like the fact that your mom has taken over something that was my mom’s role. I know, it’s petty and pathetic, and I need to move on with my life, but that’s why I hate it.”

“I don’t think it’s petty or pathetic at all,” Olivia replied. Her voice was weird. It was quiet, and soft. It was understanding. “I think it’s a perfectly normal reaction. Especially for someone who lost their mother so young.”

She moved over next to me and lay her head on my shoulder. It felt good. There was nothing sexual about it, and yet I still liked it. It was reassuring. Comforting.

“Thanks,” I told her. “I shouldn’t have told you. I haven’t told anyone. You can’t tell anyone.”

“Of course I won’t. Absolutely not. But I think it’s good that you told me. It’s good to tell someone. And your secret’s safe with me.”

“So you’re not mad that I don’t think your mom should do it?”

“No. Of course not. I don’t care about the barbeque at all, it doesn’t mean anything to me, and I can’t get mad at you for how you feel. I get it.”

She did get it. I knew from the way she reacted. She was the first girl that I knew understood, and I knew got me.

Why was I being like this? Why was I opening my heart out to my stepsister? Was it because I trusted her? I did trust her, more than any of the other girls I’d slept with, that was for sure.

No, I had to stop this. I wasn’t the kind of guy that had deep, meaningful relationships. I wasn’t the kind of guy to spill his heart out to a fuck buddy, even if she was my step sister. After all, that’s all this was. We were fuck buddies. Nothing else. Absolutely nothing else.

“Thanks, Kitten. I’m gonna go back down to the party,” I told her, getting up. She looked like she wanted to stop me. Looked like she wanted me to sit there and continue to tell her my secrets, looked like she wanted us to sit like that forever. And a part of me wanted to. But I knew we couldn’t. This wasn’t that kind of relationship, and it never would be. Still, Olivia stayed silent. It was like she had the same thought I did. Or she didn’t want me to freak out about her being too clingy.

Whatever the reason, she stayed where she was as I dropped the towel on the floor and left the bathroom.

Fucking hell man. Get it together,
I told myself as I went back to the kitchen and grabbed the bottle of Jim Beam. I was definitely at the point where I was going to be drinking straight from the bottle.

* * *

I woke up the next day on a couch, still topless, with a pounding headache and my stepsister asleep in the crook of my arm.

Shit. I wondered how the fuck we got into that position as the memories I had of the night came flooding back. I had told her about how I felt about my mom and how now her mom was doing the 4
th
of July barbeque. Why had I told her that? I never told anyone. I never spoke to anyone about my mom.

Fuck.

And now we’d fallen asleep together on the same couch in what seemed to be the basement of the party house? I had no memory of what happened after the conversation with Olivia. This was not good.