Stepbrother Catfish: The Complete Series (9 page)

I stare hard at the picture. In the picture my face is half turned, I clearly don’t realize my picture is being taken. Even now I don’t remember him taking it. I can’t even pinpoint when he did it.

Why does Andrew have a secret picture of me stashed in his kitchen drawer? The hairs on the back of my neck stand on end.

The first night my mother introduced me to Andrew and his father, Jack, we all met up in a fancy restaurant to introduce ourselves and get to know each other. It was so long ago, it’s been like two years.

I was still a junior in high school. I wasn’t thrilled that my mother was getting remarried, but the way she gushed about Jack, I tried my best to act happy for her. Just a minute after meeting Jack, it was really hard to do.

Jack seemed to be a few years older than my mom. All of his hair had turned to gray already. His skin had that tight look to it with wrinkles around the corners of his eyes and wrinkles around the corners of his mouth. He dressed well, though. He wore a nice suit to our dinner and a very expensive gold and diamond watch around his wrist. I felt very dressed down in my blouse and pants.

I remember shaking hands with Jack and he held my hand for just a little too long. Though his grip was hard, the skin of his hand felt soft and clammy. The way he looked at me, my hand trapped in his, made my skin crawl. He was taller than me and he could have very well been looking down the gap in my blouse, ogling my breasts. When he finally let my hand go, all I wanted to do was wipe it off on my pants.

Jack showed up before Andrew. The three of us, me, my mom and Jack, were seated at a table. We ordered drinks and appetizers, and with my mom fawning all over him, Jack attempted to charm me.

It didn’t work.

I tried, I really did, to be receptive to Jack. I laughed at his awful jokes and did my best to seem interested in his boring stories about his boring clients, but I found it difficult to maintain eye contact. And I’m not a great actress.

For the life of me I couldn’t understand what my mom saw in him. He was boring and creepy and old. She could do so much better. I started to tune the two of them out. Jack, sensing I wasn’t really interested in talking to him, turned his attention to my mom.  They started getting disgustingly cozy next to each other until they were practically sitting in each other’s lap.

I began to strategize.  How was I going to convince my mom not to go through with the marriage? I was lost in my thoughts when Andrew finally arrived.

“Hailey!” My mom yelled at me to get my attention.

I jumped in my seat, dropping my fork. I had been digging into my steak and nearly choked to death.

I started coughing and before I knew what was happening, two strong arms pulled me from my chair. Those strong arms wrapped around me and whoever was behind me started to administer the Heimlich.

Two fists slammed into me, lifting me off my feet. Whoever was doing it to me didn’t know what the hell they were doing and if they didn’t stop they were going to crack all my ribs.

“Stop!” I cried out and struggled against the overzealous Good Samaritan.

Again, their fists slammed into me. Chaos erupted around us.

“Hey, she’s alright, let her go!”

“I think you’re hurting her.”

“I can breathe!” I wheezed out.

“What the Hell is going on?!”

It took a minute or two for my would-be rescuer to understand I didn’t need rescuing and when he put me down on my feet and apologized to me, I suppose that’s when Andrew and I official met.

Our eyes locked and I thought we had a moment. The rest of the world fell away. There was only me and him. Damn, he was gorgeous. He was dressed like his dad, expensive suit, nice tie, big clunky watch around his wrist. But his tie was loose and his cuffs were open.

“I’m sorry,” he said and his eyes searched my face. Then his eyes traveled down, scorching my body with heat.

I swooned on my feet. Andrew reached out and steadied me. Then Jack had to go and ruin it.

“What the fuck was that?”

Andrew’s hands fell away from me as if I burned him or something, and he stepped back. He turned his face from me and locked eyes with his father. I just stood there stupidly, blinking, not understanding what was going on.

“I made a mistake,” Andrew said coolly.

I watched his face harden and the chill of his countenance had me taking a step back. I crossed my arms protectively over my chest.

“Jack, he didn’t mean any harm…” Mom said and laid her hand upon Jack’s shoulder.

Jack shook her hand off and stood from the table. “I don’t care what he meant.”

Andrew looked at me and then he looked at his dad.

His eyes narrowed, “Fuck this.”

Before I could stop him, he spun on his heel and left.

I wanted to run after him. I watched him weave between the tables before he disappeared in the crush at the front of the restaurant, pushing through those waiting to be seated. I took a step forward, opened my mouth to call out, but Jack beat me to it.

“Ungrateful shit!”

Both my mom and I gasped. The entire restaurant went quiet as the other people dining that night digested what Jack just said. Then the noise of conversation rose louder than before, reaching new crescendos. I knew we were the topic of conversation. My ears burned with the knowledge.

Jack seemed to be completely unfazed by it. He sat back down at the table, picked up his fork and muttered under his breath. “Just like his mother.”

Me, I was wondering what the heck just happened. I had the strongest urge to run after Andrew, throw myself at him, and apologize for his own father’s behavior. My mother, however, gave me a look as if she knew exactly what I was thinking. I could run after the man who just tried to rescue me, but I didn’t even know who he was at the moment.  So I did what was expected of me, I didn’t want to cause my mother or myself any further embarrassment.  I returned to my seat at the table.

The rest of our dinner was eaten mostly in silence. Jack would stop, clear his throat as if he meant to say something, then seemingly think better of it and return to eating or drinking. My mother and I would share little glances. After some time, I was quite convinced she had seen the true face of the man she meant to marry and I hoped she was thinking better of it.

After that night, Andrew never looked at me the same way again. The next time we met, he actually treated me quite awful. He insulted my looks, the way I was dressed, and even said I wasn’t qualified for my position. I remember quite clearly returning home in tears after my first day in the office because of him.

Surprisingly and disappointedly, my mom still ended up marrying Jack.

AJ
: Is Chinese okay? I’m running a bit late today.

I’m stretched out on the couch. I must have fallen asleep and I must have been drooling during my nap. What time is it?

I sit up, grab up the remote and click the big screen TV off. I was watching Spanish soap operas with the sound down before I fell asleep. It was amusing trying to figure out what the women were saying. They were so beautiful and so dramatic. Not to mention the guys were hot. Now there’s some weird game show on that I’m so not interested in.

I toss the remote to the side and pick up my buzzing phone. Yay, it's Andrew. What time is it? Before texting him back, I check my clock. It’s 6:30 pm.

Me
: Sure, that sounds great. When will you be home?

AJ
: Soon

I hesitate, unsure of how to text him back. Part of me wants to tell him to hurry up, I’ve missed him, and please be safe. The other part of me wants to hold back, protect myself. This isn’t forever. I’m not his girlfriend. I end up sending him:

Me
: Ok, see ya then

Soon could be five minutes or it could be another hour. I jump up from the couch and take care of business. First, I check myself out in the mirror and freshen up. Once that’s done, I return to the kitchen, trash the leftover pizza I ordered for lunch and left out, and finally I double check on the picture in the drawer.

Before my nap, I had put the picture back right where I found it but I’m paranoid so I feel the need to double check. I open the drawer and slip my fingers in just to be sure. Yep, it's right where I left it. Hopefully, Andrew never realizes I found it. Though, I will have to find a way to ask him about it. It’s so weird.

“Honey, I’m home!” I hear Andrew call out and just hearing his voice has my heart skipping.

I push away from the kitchen counter just as he walks in. Our eyes lock, he smiles. My insides melt into a gooey mess.

“Did you miss me?” he asks as he dumps the plastic bag he’s carrying on to the table and confidently approaches me.

“Maybe…” I say coyly and smirk at him.

“Oh, it’s like that, is it?”

Andrew’s grin grows wider and he pulls me into his arms. His hands slide around my back. He boldly places his palms on my ass and squeezes before pulling me against his chest.

“I missed you,” he groans and then his head drops.

His lips capture mine in a deep, needy kiss. His scruff is growing back, it scrapes against my chin, but I like it. I like him somehow imperfect. It makes it easier for me to give into the moment. I have to take all of this moment by moment, kiss by kiss. If I let myself think about it too much, about who he is, what we are, and what we’re doing, I’ll end up running for the elevator again.

Reluctantly, Andrew tears his mouth from mine. He rests his cheek against the top of my head, catching his breath and giving me a chance to catch myself. I listen to his deep, ragged breathing. I soon realize the rhythm of my own breathing seems to be matching his.

Andrew smells my hair and then I feel him stiffen against me. He pulls back and there’s displeasure in his eyes. I remember that look. I hate that look. It’s that critical look he gets when he’s sizing me up, picking me apart, and judging me. Why is it back again?

“What’s that smell?” he asks.

“Uh, I’m not sure?”

“Did you wash your hair?”

“Yeah? I used what was in the shower.”

“Oh,” he says and his frown deepens. His hands fall away and he takes a step back.

Great, now I feel like I’ve done something to displease him. Maybe I should have stayed stinky.

“Is there something wrong with it? I would have used something else, but I don’t have any of my own things with me.”

“There’s nothing wrong with it. I just don’t like the smell on you.”

Oh, that stings. I feel suddenly very self-conscious, but Andrew appears to be completely oblivious to it. He turns and I cross my arms over my chest. I feel the doubt knocking on my door. I really don’t want to let it in.

“Shall we eat?” he asks, walking to the table.

Was he trying to be mean to me, I wonder as I stare at his retreating back. Or am I being overly sensitive?

“Sure,” I answer meekly and pad across the kitchen to join him at the dining room table.

An uncomfortable silence settles over the apartment. I hover awkwardly while Andrew pulls several white cartons from the plastic bag. Once he has the bag completely empty he takes a seat. The dining room table is small, there are only four chairs. I hesitate, stuck between sitting beside him or sitting across from him. I decide sitting across from him is best.

“I didn’t know what you like, I forgot to ask, so I ordered a bit of everything.” Andrew waves his hand over the spread, “Help yourself.”

How can he be such a jackass one moment and so thoughtful the next? It’s making it impossible for me to get a grip. I grab up a set of chopsticks and peek inside the carton closest to me. It’s some kind of vegetable and chicken thing. I try it. It’s not half bad.

We start eating in silence. My eyes drop, I focus on my food. I’ve made my way halfway through the carton before Andrew speaks again.

“What did you do all day?”

I peek up, expecting to see a sneer quirking his lips. Was the question meant to insult me? Instead, I’m pleasantly surprised to discover he actually looks like he’s interested.

“Not much. Showered, ate, and napped.”

Andrew’s lips quirk but not into a sneer. There’s something actually playful about his restrained grin. “Is that all?”

I find myself playfully grinning back, “I could get used to this.”

“Could you?” Andrew asks, leaning forward. His posture is suddenly invested.

“Oh, yes.”

“No, really, Hailey,” he says more seriously. “Could you get used to this?”

Why is he looking at me like that? I thought we were playing. I was just trying to flirt and lighten the mood, but now there’s energy and static between us. His eyes are dark but burning with heat. He’s looking at me with such intensity, I feel a bit lightheaded.

Could I get used to this? Sitting around all day, killing and wasting the minutes away, and endlessly waiting on him? In all honestly, I don’t think I could. But at the moment, I really don’t want to tell him that.

“I don’t know,” I say, hoping he’ll accept the answer.

But he doesn’t.

“Think about it.”

“Okay,” I say softly and something flashes in his eyes.

I look away. It suddenly got very hot in here. I feel my blush. It’s burning my cheeks and flashing down my chest. Now I’m overly aware that I’m wearing only his shirt as a dress. I squeeze my thighs together. I don’t even have underwear.

“One night with you and I’m already considering renegotiating our terms.”

I look up at him in surprise. “You are?”

My heart flutters with panic. My blush drains away. Does he mean to not pay me now? Has he gotten his fill?

There’s something fierce about the way Andrew is looking at me. Fierce and hungry. But we just ate…

“One week isn’t enough.”

I swallow. I don’t know what to say. His words give me so much hope, hope that something more could come of this. I fear, though, that if I put those words out there, the Universe will take it all away.

Andrew sets his food down with careful deliberation then stands from the table. He prowls towards me. I sit frozen.

“All day, I’ve thought about you. It drove me mad leaving you this morning.”

He loosens the tie at his neck and then pulls it off. He drops it to the floor.

“I kept stopping by your office. Your smell is still there…”

He comes to stand next to me. He’s so tall, so intimidating. I look up.

“All day I’ve imagined what I would do to you…where I would touch you…where I would kiss you.”

He grabs me, pulling me to my feet. The chair I was sitting in topples backward.

“Andrew,” I gasp.

He growls. “No, don’t call me that.”

Gently his hands grab me by the face.

“AJ,” I say cautiously.

He smiles tenderly, “Yes?”

I look at him, my eyes searching his eyes. When he looks at me like that, tender and open, it’s like for a moment the mask has slipped and I’m getting a peek at the real him.

“Just shut up and kiss me.”