SCORE (A Stepbrother Sports Romance) (3 page)

“Awesome. Thanks, kid, I appreciate it.” He grinned brightly at me.

I scrunched my nose and said, “Don’t call me that.”

He winked at me, and my heart skipped a beat. “See ya later, kid,” he called as he jogged off.

I shook my head at his behavior, a small smile on my face, and headed to class, sighing as I thought about what a long day it would be. I managed to get through my last two classes and walked to the practice field. I sat on a set of bleachers and pulled out my laptop to work on a paper.

The practice lasted a little over two hours, and the sun set just as the players left the field. I had finished some work but ended up watching Blake more than I worked. I had to admit, he had some justification for his cocky behavior because he was extremely talented. I had never been interested in sports, but I could barely tear my eyes away from his lean body practically gliding past on the field. He was fast and strong in his movements, dodging tackles with graceful agility. I had never seen Blake so focused on anything before. He was so in the moment, playing with a fierce intent and glowing passion. When practice finally ended, my muscles were tightly wound. I took a few deep breaths to calm myself before I gathered my stuff and climbed down the bleachers, waiting for Blake to grab his gear. We walked to the car in silence, and I tossed my bag in the backseat when we got to the car, feeling a bit awkward.

My own body was tense after watching him play. The way his body moved was compelling, and I felt uncomfortable being so close. Images of the way he moved reappeared in my head, intensifying the building attraction I felt for Blake. We made small talk on the ride home, but I was grateful to have the road in front of me to focus on. When we arrived, we headed inside to find that our parents had gone out and that we were completely alone.

I threw my backpack on the living room couch and headed for the kitchen to grab something to eat. Blake ran upstairs, mentioning a shower. Opening the fridge, I pulled out some veggies for a salad along with some chicken. I hummed to myself as I cooked, letting the stress and tension of the day melt away.

I was in the middle of cutting up vegetables for the salad when a voice behind me said, “Want some help?”

Blake was standing directly behind me. He wore a smirk on his face as he looked down at me. I stepped away from him. “You scared me.” His hair was wet, and he wasn’t wearing a shirt, indicating that he had just stepped out of the shower. He caught me looking at him, and I blushed furiously. “Go put some clothes on.”

His smile widened, and he stepped closer to me, backing me into the kitchen counter. I could smell his shampoo as I inhaled, and the smell was tantalizing, stirring all kinds of odd tremors where I least expected them. Looking intensely into my eyes, he whispered seductively, “I don’t think you want me to.”

My chest tightened as he leaned closer. Every nerve in my body awakened as he leaned against me, his body hot against mine. I gripped the kitchen counter behind me tightly, my knees weakening as I felt his breath on my face. He lowered his face to mine, moving slowly and deliberately, giving me time to pull away. My body was frozen, hypnotized by him. When his lips touched mine, electricity ran up and down my spine, and I kissed him back, pressing our bodies together.

Blake ran his fingers through my hair as we kissed, hot and heavy, our tongues tangling. I grabbed his shoulders, his naked skin warm under my exploring fingers. I let out a low moan as he pressed his hips into mine and slid his tongue into my mouth again. I reached my hands up, twisting my fingers tightly into his hair. He grabbed my waist and hoisted me up onto the counter.

I wrapped my legs around him, placing several closed-mouth kisses on his lips before he forced my mouth open with his own, his lips molding perfectly to mine. He sucked lightly on my bottom lip and grazed his teeth against it, sending shudders down my spine. I was lost in his kiss and his touch.

Without warning, he pushed away from me. I was breathing heavily, my lips swollen and my face red. I looked at him, confused, and froze. I heard a car door slam shut in the driveway. I hopped off the counter and turned back to the food, hissing to Blake, “Go put your shirt on.”

I clutched the knife I had used to cut the vegetables. I was hot from the kisses, and my mind was a whirlwind of thoughts. I took three deep breaths before I continued slicing the food. My movements were slow and deliberate, more cautious than usual because my hands were tingling oddly.

My father and Debbie walked in, and I felt extremely uncomfortable. I was horrified by what had happened between Blake and me, and I began to worry that the guilt was evident in my appearance.

“Hey, honey. How was class today?” Dad greeted me as he entered the kitchen.

“It was good,” I replied without looking at him. I focused steadily on the food in front of me and could feel my face redden from a mix of shame and embarrassment.

“What are you making?” he asked curiously.

“Just baked chicken and a salad.”

“Sounds delicious.” The smile in his voice made me feel guiltier than ever.

I finished cooking dinner and excused myself from the kitchen, claiming I wasn’t hungry. This wasn’t untrue, either. I was much too nauseous to eat. I ran upstairs and shut my bedroom door quickly. I couldn’t get the kiss out of my head. My body was hot from his touch, and I wanted more of him. My mind bitterly reminded me of my dislike for Blake, contradicting the deep, throbbing need I felt for his lips. Part of me was glad our parents had come home when they did—who knew how far we would have gone? A different part of me longed for more. As I climbed into my bed, I thought about how awkward school would be tomorrow.

Blake

I got ready for class slowly because I didn’t want to face Alyssa. I felt like an idiot for kissing her, but I hadn’t been able to stop myself. When I had leaned in close to her, she looked so beautiful and innocent, her lips so soft and plump. Of course I wanted to kiss her again, but I dismissed the thought quickly. Despite knowing how wrong my actions were, if I were ever in the same situation again, I would kiss her and touch her just the same. Alyssa caused a deep, hungry response in me, one that overrode all rational thoughts and logic. I had to act cool, as if her presence didn’t affect me, which was the only way to control my irrational need for her. Controlling my attraction was vital. Alyssa and I were a part of a new family. We were technically siblings, and what we had done was shameful and could make life hard for us both.

I grabbed my backpack and headed downstairs, saying a quick good morning to my mother and stepdad. Alyssa was already downstairs, sitting at the table eating a piece of toast. I looked at her, but she didn’t look at me, just stared at her toast as if it were the most fascinating thing she had ever seen.

“Are you ready, Alyssa?” I asked her nonchalantly.

She froze for a second before she responded. “Yeah.”

I watched her get up and give her father a quick kiss on the cheek before grabbing her backpack and walking out the door. I followed her to her car.

The drive to school was awkward and tense. I was hesitant to address the situation we had put ourselves in, and Alyssa’s stiff, quiet disposition implied that she felt angry and resentful towards me. Unable to find the right words to say, I decided to remain silent, but I constantly flicked my gaze to her, resisting every instinct to reach out and touch her.

Once we pulled into a parking spot, I hopped out and said, “See ya later, kid.”

I walked away quickly, unable to be near her any longer. I was overwhelmingly unable to properly handle the mess I had made by kissing her. I headed to my class, grateful for any distraction to get Alyssa off my mind. After an hour-long lecture, I left, rubbing my temples to ease the beginnings of a headache, and practically ran over Brittney as I walked out of the classroom. Clearly, she had been waiting for me.

“I called you last night,” she said, looking up at me with a small frown on her face.

I wasn’t in the mood to deal with her, but I saw Alyssa at the end of the hall talking to Maggie, so I wrapped my arm around Brittney’s shoulder. “Would dinner tonight make up for it?” I asked, walking down the hallway with her practically glued to my side.

She yelped and said, “Totally!” She blabbed on, but I tuned her out, my eyes on Alyssa’s face as we passed her. She looked up and for a brief moment seemed almost hurt. She caught my eye and turned her attention back to Maggie, her expression instantly one of total unconcern, though it didn’t quite ring true.

***

I sat across the table from Brittney, annoyed at myself for suggesting this date. She seemed happy, though, and a continuous stream of words babbled out of her. I ate my food mechanically, trying my best to appear interested in what she was saying.

She was nothing like Alyssa. She wasn’t smart or funny, though she was pretty in a more artificial and obvious way. I sighed, telling myself I would never get anywhere if I compared every girl I went on a date with to Alyssa. She was simply incomparable. My attraction to Alyssa might run deeper than I originally thought, and I feared feelings were beginning to develop. The thought of caring for Alyssa in an intimate way invoked a horrifying anxiety. She wasn’t just some girl, she was going to be in my life forever. The reality of the situation was that, as her stepbrother, I simply couldn’t have her.

I looked at Brittney, and even though she was in the middle of a sentence, I interrupted. “Brittney, I just want to make sure you understand something.”

“What’s that?” she asked with wide eyes filled with what might have been adoration.

“I just want us to be friends.” I hesitated, searching for words that wouldn’t be hurtful. “I’m not really looking for a girlfriend right now.” I instinctively knew that what I said might be mean, but it had to be said. I looked at my food guiltily. I could see the pain on her face, and her eyes watered. I scrambled to find words to comfort her, the hurt I caused her cutting through me. “It isn’t you,” I added in a calming voice. “I just have a lot going on in my life right now. I hope you understand.”

It made sense for me to date a girl like Brittney. Because of my football-star lifestyle and my reputation, I had only dated girls like Brittney in the past. Over and over again, I dated the same shallow cheerleader type. Still, I felt guilty, knowing it would be enough for my image if I took her out to eat once in a while or attended a few parties together. I reminded myself it wasn’t my fault that being on the football team had certain expectations. Reputation was important, and I convinced myself, on some level, Brittney understood that.

She looked at me in silence for a long while, clearly processing my words, and simply said, “Oh. Okay. I guess I understand. I just thought you felt the same way I do.”

Her soft reaction despite the obvious reluctance in her eyes made it even harder to deal with the consequences of what I had done. I mumbled, “I’m sorry.”

We finished the rest of our meal in silence, and I struggled with unfamiliar feelings of contrition. I tried to reassure myself internally, knowing it wouldn’t be long before she was back on her feet. She was a beautiful girl, and guys were always hitting on her.

We drove home, and as I pulled in front of her house, I said, “I’ll see you around.”

I could feel the air around us shift. Her quiet, not quite sulking attitude changed to hungry and fierce. She spoke in a soft, silky voice, but in the glow of the streetlight I saw an almost hysterical look of desperation in her eyes. “My parents aren’t home. Do you want to come in?”

She leaned in, trying to kiss me, but I pulled back. “Not this time, Britt.” I almost let her because it would have been easier than letting her down a second time.

Her face turned a light shade of pink, flushing with humiliation. “Your loss!” she snapped before getting out of the car and practically stomping up the stairs to her house.

I drove home, gripping the steering wheel tightly. A hunger deep inside me twisted painfully, reminding me that there was only one girl who would satisfy it.

The next week was a little easier. Things between Alyssa and I were strained as her anger continued to burn. After several attempts to talk to her, we were finally able to slide into a more normal routine. I was relieved that she had decided to forgive me, and we were in silent agreement never to speak of our slip-up. The fact that we were both distracted helped—me with football, her with exams and papers. As we drove to school Thursday, I was in a good mood, and on an impulse, I invited her to my game.

“You want me to come to your game?” she asked with a smirk on her face, eyebrows raised.

Her reaction made me unsure of my actions. Was it really a good idea to invite her to a game when our behavior had just returned to normal? I kept my cool, and sticking to my original invitation, I laughed and said, “Why not?”

She considered it for a moment. “Yeah…okay. Although I’m pretty sure you’re just milking me for a ride.”

Relief washed over me as she accepted. I shook my head as I hopped out of her car. “I wouldn’t do that to you, kid.”

I walked to class, my steps strangely lighter. Banners hung everywhere, announcing the game tomorrow, a big one for the team. I was jumpy and tense with suppressed excitement and trepidation as I practiced later that day. Energy coursed through my body, so I ran my laps, the muscles in my legs feeling good and stretched.