Wrecked: A Stepbrother Romance Novel (4 page)

I suppose that’s really all there is to say. Or at least all I’m willing to say in this form of communication.

~ Brandon Jensen

M
y birthday came and went
, spent in a slightly-drunken daze as I continued to consider Brandon’s offer. Nothing noteworthy had happened since the day I got the letter and now it was only a day away from the date of departure listed on the plane ticket that was currently stuck to the door of my refrigerator with a magnet. A constant reminder of the letter that I had read a million times.

I stood in front of my fridge and stared at the ticket, still mentally debating about taking him up on it. On one hand, my heart was screaming at me to go. My curiosity would never be satisfied if I passed up the opportunity.

On the other hand, my mind kept reminding me of the beginning of his letter and the fact that the last time we spoke, it hadn’t gone well. Years had passed, but I could still recall just how unpleasant it had been.

I wandered into my bedroom and spared a glance to my open suitcase, half-packed and practically begging me to finish. I sighed and went to my closet, digging deep into the back until I reached the emerald green dress Brandon insisted on buying for me so many years ago.

As I ran my fingertips against the soft material, I idly wondered if it still fit. I hadn’t so much as looked at the dress in years, too much of a reminder of both the pleasant memories we shared as well as the painful ones. But I could never bring myself to get rid of it either. It just felt too... important.

I pulled the hanger off the bar and slid the dress off, quickly shedding my pajamas and stepping into it. I pulled it up and closed my eyes as I reached behind me and attempted to pull up the zipper.

A mere moment later, I let out a happy sigh.

It still fits.

I opened my eyes and wandered over to my mirror, smiling when I realized that it looked even better now than it had before. I hadn’t grown much since I was eighteen, but time had morphed my body from that of a teenager to a fully-grown adult woman. The difference usually bugged me—nobody liked the idea of aging—but looking at my reflection now... I felt beautiful. Timeless.

It was then that I realized I couldn’t pass up this chance. We had parted on awful terms and if I didn’t take the leap and at least
attempt
to fix things between us, it was going to eat at me for the rest of my life.

Once upon a time, Brandon had been one of the most important people in my life. I couldn’t deny the fact that I wanted that closeness back.

With a sense of renewed determination, I slipped off the dress and back into my pajamas, taking special care to place the gown into my suitcase before I went back to my closet to finish packing.

A
s soon as
the announcement that the flight was about to begin boarding echoed over the intercom, I hopped out of my seat and wandered over to wait near the area to line up. Brandon had purchased a first class ticket for me, so I knew I’d be among the first group to get on the plane.

Which I
really
needed to do. Like, immediately. The desire to turn tail and run was strong and I wanted to forcefully strap myself into the seat before my panicking hit an all-time high.

Only a few short minutes later and I was relaxing back into the window seat, taking a long, deep breath as I tried to slow my wildly beating heart.

No turning back now
, I thought as I glanced up and eyed the long string of people boarding the plane.

I closed my eyes and willed myself to calm down with the reminder that once we were in the air, I’d have the chance to pester a flight attendant for some liquid courage. I just needed to make it until then and I’d be good to go.

Yeah, good choice. Turn to alcohol again. Because it’s done you so much good thus far.

I softly growled at my internal voice, then felt the weight of a stare on my face and smiled sheepishly at the older man sharing the aisle with me. He gave me a quizzical glance before turning back to his newspaper and I let out a long sigh.

Even though I logically knew it was probably only half an hour until liftoff then four hours in the air until we reached St. Thomas Island, it still felt like it was going to take a lifetime.

“Miss?”

“Hmm?” I hummed, turning to the gentleman on my right.

His brow creased to a frown and he asked, “Are you all right?”

“Y-Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Are you sure? You’re looking mighty pale,” he commented before folding his newspaper and angling his body to get a better look at me. “Not much of a flyer, eh?”

I quickly realized that it probably appeared that way and I gave the man a kind smile for his concern. “No, it’s not that. It’s more about who I’m going to see than the actual flying itself.”

He chuckled knowingly and smiled. “I’m sure whoever this person is will be pleased to see a young lady as pretty as yourself.”

His words were spoken kindly, almost in a paternal sort of way, and for some reason that just made it all the more difficult for me to shake off. I covered my face in my hands and shook my head, mumbling against my palms.

“We didn’t exactly part on good terms. I highly doubt he’ll be happy to see me.”

“A lost love, then?”

I uncovered my face and flattened my lips into a thin line, nodding absently as I relived our last meeting.

“You could say that.”

“
H
urry up
, honey! We’re going to be late!”

“Just a minute!” I called to my mom, grumbling under my breath as I hastily finished swiping on my lipstick in the mirror of my childhood bedroom.

Once I was satisfied with my appearance, I blew a kiss at my reflection before I rushed to the door and grabbed my winter coat.

I made it down the stairs and my mom’s irritated glare softened when she took in my appearance. Harold opened the door and gestured for us to walk out first and I smiled at them both as I slipped past and strutted down the sidewalk towards the waiting limousine.

“It was so nice of Brandon to send a limousine for us. Wasn’t it, dear?”

I suppressed an eye roll as my mom fished for me to say something nice about Brandon, still refusing to acknowledge the fact that we no longer spoke. I was certain I had dropped enough hints to her about it during my breaks from college, but I think she had chosen to remain blissfully ignorant.

After all, Brandon and I had gotten along well for years. It was probably sad for her to consider the fact that we were no longer friends.

Whose fault is that?

I slid onto the leather seat and tried my best not to think about the last time I was in a limo while also trying to forget where we were heading.

It was easy enough to avoid Brandon after high school was over. He moved out and started his company and I left home to go to college. I was pretty sure he knew my schedule and purposely planned his visits home around mine, but unfortunately, neither of us could find a way out of this function.

Our parents had insisted on having the family together this Christmas even though Brandon had begged off, insisting he had to work. But even he couldn’t argue his way out of the night that our parents wanted to gather up their closest friends and family to renew their vows.

It’d been over three years since I’d seen his face in person. Even longer since we’d spoken.

He really had kept his word on being done with me after prom night.

I twisted my hands together nervously as I tried to ignore the sting that was still fresh after all these years.

T
he ceremony was
painful
.

It
should
have been a beautiful and happy event, but all I could do was keep glancing in Brandon’s direction and trying to catch his eye.

In four years, he had evolved from a cute but nerdy teenager to an absolutely
gorgeous
hunk of a man.

Fuck my life. Why couldn’t he have gotten fat or something?

He’d stood next to his father as his best man and pointedly avoided my gaze. His handsome face had remained stoic during the entire ceremony, right up until the very end when his father had patted him on the shoulder. He gave our parents a genuine smile, then disappeared after they walked down the aisle together.

Thankfully, their renewal ceremony was far more casual than an actual wedding, so I took the opportunity to follow Brandon’s lead and also disappeared. Since they had asked my aunt to host the party, I thankfully knew this house almost as well as my own.

Within five minutes, I was popping open a bottle of red in the wine cellar and bringing the bottle straight to my lips.

Sweet, sweet alcohol. Make me forget.

After half an hour of wallowing in my misery in the chilly basement, I finally made my way back to the party, careful as to not wobble on my high heels. I wasn’t exactly
drunk
, but the wine had definitely made itself known in my otherwise empty stomach.

I congratulated my mom and Harold and gave them both a hug before stepping back and allowing them to be surrounded by our friends and relatives once again. I scanned the room quickly, noting that Brandon was still hiding elsewhere for the time being, so I slowly made my way over to the bar while I still had a chance.

Just the reminder that he was here made me want to drink until the night blurred into blackness.

“What’ll you have?”

“Gin and tonic.”

The man my aunt hired to tend the bar started to make my drink and I suddenly felt a chill run up my spine that I knew had nothing to do with the cold winter air outside.

Brandon had obviously made his way back into the crowded room and I could
feel
his stare on the back of my head. I forced a smile as I accepted my drink and purposely walked away, refusing to glance back and see if my assumption was correct.

The hallway leading down to the wine cellar was empty, but the soft squeak of men’s dress shoes behind me was confirmation enough. I forced myself not to look back and just kept walking until I rounded the corner and broke into as much of a jog as I could in these damn heels.

The footsteps picked up and before I could pull open the door to the cellar, a warm hand was spinning me around and pinning my wrist to the door.

I dared a look up into his eyes, unable to tear my gaze away once it locked with his. There was nothing pleasant about the way he stared down at me—a scowl marring his handsome face and anger simmering behind those damn blue eyes of his.

“Were you planning to avoid me all night?”

His question broke whatever trance I’d been in and I jerked my wrist hard, trying to pull away from his grip. “
Me?
You wouldn’t even look at me during the ceremony.”

Fucking
hell
, he got strong.

When I tried to use my other hand to pry his fingers from my wrist, he used
his
free hand to pin my other wrist against the door as well, then pressed his newly-muscle torso against me, immediately stilling my struggles.

“I’m looking at you now.”

“I have no idea why. You’re clearly finished with me.”

Brandon laughed—a hollow, humorless sound that struck a nerve somewhere deep inside that I was afraid to address. The smile didn’t touch his eyes and faded away as he slowly shook his head back and forth.

“Don’t do that. Don’t act like I didn’t give you multiple chances.”

I rolled my eyes and pushed my chest against him, some small part of me enjoying the way he sharply inhaled and pulled away, even if it was only a few inches. He was staring at me incredulously when I decided to push him even further.

I lifted a leg and hitched it around his hip, pulling his pelvis flush against mine. It wasn’t the first time I’d felt the heavy weight of his hardness pressed against me, but it
was
the first time that I felt no traces of awkwardness from being in this position.

Brandon leaned forward, his mouth parted and eyes closed as he let out a shaky breath. Before I could comprehend what was happening, our lips were mashed together, tongues tangling in a duel more heated than ever before. It took every ounce of self-control not to push him away and rip off his dress pants, but there was still a logical—not to mention sober—part of my brain that told me to stop.

When I pulled back, his eyes opened, looking more shocked than I expected. I grinned at him triumphantly and said, “How about one more?”

His nostrils flared as the anger started to return. “
No.
You don’t want me. You don’t give a
fuck
about me. You only want me now because I look… different.”

My eyebrows raised in surprise at the accusation. “I’m not going to argue about you looking different, but you’re wrong about the rest.” A sly smile appeared on my lips and I leaned closer to him. “How about I show you just how much I want you?”

Brandon jerked away like he’d been burned, glaring at me so hatefully that I felt like I was getting whiplash from his abrupt mood swings. I frowned and raised my hands in the air, trying to figure out what the fuck was going on while he scrubbed a hand over his face.

“I’m not doing this with you. I… I’m seeing someone. I don’t know why I even followed you.
God
—I’m such a fucking idiot,” he ended with a whisper, speaking more to himself than to me.

“Brandon...”

He held up a finger, looking at me sharply. “Don’t.
Don’t
do this to me again.”

“Do
what?
”

“Don’t fuck around with my head!” he yelled, then had the presence of mind to glance around and make sure no bystanders were catching the show. He gestured behind me and I hesitantly opened the door, leading him down the stairs of the wine cellar to continue our conversation privately.

“Look, I’m not trying to fuck with your head,” I said as soon as I got downstairs, spinning around and pointing directly at him. “You
damn well
knew nothing could happen between us and you pushed me anyways! What did you
think
was going to happen?”