Stepbrother JEEZ! (The Stepbrother Romance Series - Book #4) (2 page)

I got to class with time to spare and thought about
where I wanted to sit. Normally I was in the middle—the few people I knew
usually sat there, and we could talk a little bit when it was time to work on
the assignments the professor gave us. But some of the other guys I knew
always, without fail, sat in the back. I picked a desk off to the side and
almost at the back, where no one ever sits, close to the AC and heating vents.
It was never a comfortable place to sit—you either froze or burned up—but at
least I could count on not being bothered there.

Halfway through class I had to wonder why I’d even
bothered. I was taking notes, I was doing my best to listen to the lecture, but
my brain kept replaying the holiday. I couldn’t seem to stop myself from
thinking about Jaxon and me having sex, or Mom walking in on us, or the
horrible fight that Jaxon had had with his dad at the lodge. Even trying to
think about how good the snowboarding had been brought back memories I’d rather
have forgotten: Jaxon and me on the slopes alone together, talking and
comparing strategies, giving each other tips, getting closer and closer.
Or, even worse, how horrible it had really been after Mom had
walked in on us and yet still insisted on having “family day” out on the slopes.

It was obvious to me that the only way to deal with
the situation was to avoid Jaxon at all costs, which meant avoiding all of his
friends, even if they were my friends too. I didn’t want to give up the team,
but if things got really bad, that might be what I had to do. I’d have to
accept that my mom and Jaxon’s dad had screwed up both of our lives even if
they hadn’t meant to. I’d have to just deal with it. But it was so hard to make
myself think the things that would help me move on.

I couldn’t think about my Biology class without
thinking about Jaxon. Even when I’d been walking to class, I’d remembered him
meeting me on my way from the dorms, chatting me up and flirting with me while
he walked me to whichever class I was going to. Biology made me think of Jaxon
tutoring me. Every class I was taking had some kind of memory linked to Jaxon
in my head. I hated it. I wanted to cry, but if I went around crying, everyone
would notice and someone would get to the bottom of it; on top of which, it
would absolutely ruin my reputation with the guys I hung out
with
.
I’d just be another girl, crying over some guy.

So as soon as my classes were over for the morning I
hurried back to the dorms, telling myself not to even think about Jaxon running
into me accidentally-on-purpose. The less I could think of Jaxon the better off
I would be, but the more I tried to forget him and not think about him at all,
the more I found myself dwelling on him. Was he having the same problem? I
couldn’t know. I knew that he obviously hadn’t gotten over me when he’d pushed
me away the first time. If he had, we wouldn’t have ended up in my bed; we
wouldn’t have ended up screwing on a lounge chair by the pool at Bob’s house.
We would have been able to keep up the ruse of not knowing each other at all
and pretending to get to know each other.

But I couldn’t imagine a guy like Jaxon being all
torn and upset by what had happened—not the way I was. I mean, Jaxon had girls
throwing themselves at him constantly. He’d been practically making out with
some girl, dancing with her at the Phi Kappa party when I’d confronted him the
first time. It wasn’t
like
he didn’t have plenty of
opportunities to move on. And I couldn’t make myself believe that the guys at
the frat weren’t
partying
it up from the time they got
back from the holidays. That was just the kind of guys they were; they took any
excuse they could to party. I’d gotten texts from them complaining about how
incredibly boring it was at home with their families—until things had really
blown up with Jaxon I’d even laughed at them and told them to enjoy the rest
from the constant party life.

I got back to the dorms as quickly as I could and
that was my strategy. I would leave as close to the time for my classes as
possible and go straight there and straight back. If I had to get food from the
dining hall, I’d get it to go and bring it to my room. I thought about spending
some time in the library—they had private study rooms where I could be
completely by myself and no one would even know I was—but the private rooms
were almost always spoken for before classes even started for the day.

Everyone who knew me knew that something was up;
even when I’d been avoiding Jaxon, I’d managed to make it over to the frat, to
hang out with the guys who I’d been friends with far longer than Jaxon. I’d hit
the courts, I’d gone out and done things. I got texts from everyone inviting me
to come watch the game and have a couple of beers, or to come play a pickup
game, or to hit the gym.
Yo
, Mia, what’s going on?
Mia, grab dinner with us.
Yo
—they’re doing a BBQ down by the volleyball
court, you in?
I’d
te
;; the guys I’d really spent
time with that I didn’t feel like going anywhere or doing anything; it wasn’t
really an excuse and I knew they could see through it, but it was better than
the nothing I had for everyone else.

I just didn’t have the time or the energy to try and
make things right with anyone. As classes started up, the first few days back,
everyone got back into their usual schedule except for me.
Yo
, you sick or something? Do we need to get you to the campus nurse?
What’s going on
?
 
As I made my way to and from
classes every day, hurrying to get there, keeping my gaze on the ground in
front of me so I couldn’t even see people, doing my best to be as invisible as
possible, the thought that plagued me was:
Next
thing you know, I’m going to find out I’m related to Jeremy.
Or
Mike.
Or Alex.
I kept waiting to get a
phone call from my mom telling me that I had some new family member. It was a
stupid thought, but it had taken me so much by surprise to know that Jaxon and
I were related that I couldn’t get it out of my head.

It got worse by the day; at first it was just texts
and phone calls, but inevitably my strategy of avoiding everyone I knew other
than my roommates started to fall apart. Rushing to class, someone would call
out my name—one of the guys from the frat, one of the guys I played ball with,
one of the members of the team. I made myself pretend
like
I didn’t hear them; I breezed past and didn’t look up. It was easier with
headphones on, but then I risked literally running into someone—with my eyes on
the ground and my ears full of music, it made it harder to avoid people instead
of easier. Once or twice my friends actually tried to grab me—my hand, my
arm—but I pretended not to even notice, and just kept moving forward.

I knew I was basically ruining any kind of social
life I had. I knew that eventually everyone would quit trying altogether, but I
couldn’t deal with the possibility of telling anyone anything about what had
happened. I couldn’t let myself get talked into going back to the frat house
and then running into Jaxon. I just had to keep to my dorm, to my classes.

It was so frustrating; I started spending a little
time with my roommates even though I didn’t want to have anything to do with
what they were
up to
. I watched endless hours of
Real Housewives
or some other mindless
show when I would have rather been watching a game with the guys in the frat
house. I went to the mall and wandered behind them from store to store just to
have something to do. I listened to the stupid bullshit that they wanted to
talk about—guys they were going after, dresses and shoes they wanted to buy,
the pop concerts they wanted to go to—and thought to myself that I couldn’t
really understand why any guy would want to date them. I knew my roommates were
popular with the guys at some of the other frats, and in some of the clubs, but
I couldn’t see the appeal.

The only thing that I could do to get a break from
it was hit the gym. I’d go late at night or early in the morning when only the
most dedicated gym-rats were there; guys on different teams, doing off-season
training or building on their training routines in their free time. I went in
with my headphones on and didn’t take them off the entire time. At least, I
thought, if any of the guys from the frat showed up while I was there, they’d
likely be just as interested as I was in getting in, getting the workout done,
and going back to the house without getting distracted. It wasn’t a huge risk.

Other than the gym, though, I was spending my hours
either alone or with the stupid girls I lived with. Normally I could deal with
them a few hours a week—they weren’t my favorite people, but they weren’t bad.
Becka
was actually pretty smart, but I had my fill of her
Philosophy and Women’s Studies musings within the first day of sitting around
with them. All I wanted to do was go to the Phi Kappa house and watch hockey or
anything else—even a comedy show would have been a good break—but I couldn’t
make myself go. I couldn’t risk running into Jaxon or finding myself telling someone
in the frat all about what had happened. I had to just stick to myself and get
through it as best as I could.

Whenever Mom called me—and she did, a couple of
times—I had to pretend
like
everything was normal.
Like nothing at all had happened. She chattered on and on about Bob and how
good he was to her, and I pretended
like
I liked the
guy in spite of everything he had said to Jaxon. I told her about classes and
about hitting the gym and neither of us said anything at all about Jaxon. It
turned my stomach, but I knew I couldn’t do anything about it. I just had to
get through it, move forward.

Chapter
Three

The first week back from holidays was almost over
when I got the email from the team list about practice; I’d been avoiding Jaxon
the whole time, trying to do everything I could to get him out of my head. I
didn’t want to have to give up snowboarding altogether, and it was just plain
stupid to go out on my own. I’d competed before—I knew I was good, in spite of
the bad boarding during the holiday. I shouldn’t have to completely change my
life just because I’d had a shitty situation happen with Jaxon. I told myself
that he’d encouraged me to join the team long before we’d even gotten close to
getting involved physically. It was something I could do. It was the one thing
that could probably keep me sane.

I replied with the confirmation that I would be
there, in spite of the growing sense of dread that I felt every time I thought
about it. I shouldn’t have to give up everything just because Jaxon was my stepbrother
and we’d had sex; but I was starting to think that I would have to no matter
how fair or unfair it was. After all, I’d have to be around Jaxon if I wanted
to stay on the team. I’d have to deal with being around him. Could I do it?

I told myself that I could. After all, it wouldn’t
just be Jaxon and me there together. It would be the whole team at
practice—there’d be a ton more people. Jaxon and I were only really dangerous
when we were alone together. It wasn’t as though we’d end up jumping each other
in the middle of the practice facility and screwing mindlessly. We would both
be focused on getting better, on nailing tricks and watching everyone else on
the team work on theirs. I had loved snowboarding ever since I first started
doing it when I was a teenager.

And on top of that, I thought as I walked back from
class to the dorm, it would be good. I had been avoiding Jaxon ever since the
last time we’d had sex. I couldn’t realistically avoid him forever—even if I
could avoid him at school, I’d probably have to deal with being around him at
home during break, in much closer quarters. I had to learn how to deal with
being around him. I had to get over things, and it obviously wasn’t working to
try and avoid everything to do with him. If I could just be around him with
other people who didn’t have any idea about what had happened, I could probably
move forward and get over the situation faster. At least, that’s what I told
myself, over and over again.

I made myself focus on getting ready for practice.
I’d had a rough time on the slopes the last time I’d gone out, so the few days
before practice was scheduled, I hit the gym and focused entirely on routines
that trainers had taught me for improving my balance, control, and form. I was
not going to humiliate myself in front of people by being just as bad as I had
been the last time I’d hit the slopes. Focusing on getting better, on making
myself go through the jumps, the bends, the stretches and the strengthening in
my core, made it easier not to think about Jaxon at all. I caught some of the
people from the team in the gym—they were doing the same kinds of exercises as
I was, and we managed to grin at each other, though we mostly left each other
alone.

I hit the showers after the gym session and, in
spite of all my confident words to myself about how I was going to just forget
about Jaxon and focus on my boarding, I found myself fantasizing while the hot
water rained down on me. I couldn’t make myself forget how good Jaxon had felt
inside of me, of how he had gotten me off so hard that I’d seen stars. I closed
my eyes and my hands wandered over my body; I couldn’t quite tease my nipples
the way that Jaxon had every time we’d been together, but it was close, and I
could remember it so well. I thought about what it would have been like if
Jaxon and I had somehow managed to find a spare moment to be alone the last
time we’d both hit the slopes, as part of Mom and Bob’s stupid “family day”
idea.
If we’d slipped into the lodge or if we could have
managed to get alone out on the slope.
I felt myself get more and more
turned on while my hands wandered down towards my pussy, remembering Jaxon’s
touch on my clit, the way he went down on me. So many guys went down on a girl
like it was nothing more than a ticket to getting what they wanted; Jaxon at
least seemed as if he liked getting me off just on its own, like he would have
done it even if I didn’t screw him afterward.