Anti-Stepbrother

“You sure you want to do this?”

“Do what?” I tried to appear confident, so I could ignore the stampeding herd in my chest. “Get drunk? I can drink with the best of them.”

He closed his eyes a moment, shaking his head as he stepped back. His hands left my sides. I tried to pretend I didn’t miss them: the warmth of them, the slight weight of them, or how they’d made me feel safe for a split second.

Nope. None of that was going on.

“You’re going to meet people I really care about.”

“I’m down with caring people.”

His eyes narrowed. “Don’t fuck anything up.”

“What?” I touched my chest. “Me? What have I fucked up? It’s like you don’t know me.” I laced my fingers and pretended to crack my knuckles. “I’m ready for this. Let’s get the sexing and drinking started.”

He grabbed the back of his neck and continued to stare at me. “You can’t handle this.”

“I can too.”

I swung around. Eight tables were spread out across the veranda. Some matched the bronze-colored metal fence, while others were white picnic tables. A couple girls sat at the table at the far end, smoking, and one of the picnic tables was filled with large, muscular guys in sleeveless shirts, covered with dirt and grime, and also smoking. No one looked particularly friendly, and all were watching us. I stepped back instinctively, finding Caden.

His hands came to my waist again, and for a moment, I rested there. I was against his chest, and I felt safe again. I didn’t even mind the snake tattoo so close to me. I was starting to like that snake. I should name him.

A twinge of pain sliced through me.

I’d have to pull away from Caden, and the sooner the better, but I didn’t want to. I liked standing here as he held me. A lump formed in my throat. I liked it maybe too much, and because of that, I swallowed that damn lump and moved to the side.

I could do this.

He moved around me, his hands falling from my waist, but he took my hand and tugged me behind him to an empty table tucked into the corner. I tried not to grasp his hand too tightly. These people looked seriously tough.

A pergola hung above us, partially shading us with the vines and foliage wrapped around it. The sun peeked through a few of the squares, but as I sat down, I adjusted my seat so my face wasn’t in the light.

Caden didn’t sit with me. “Be back in a second,” he said, pinning me down with a fierce look over his shoulder. “Don’t let anyone buy you a drink. Okay?”

I nodded, and he went inside.

A server came over in the next second, her hair pulled up in a braid. Her gaze lingered on the empty seat next to me. “Someone’s coming back?”

I patted Caden’s chair. “I hope so.”

Her gaze moved to mine. “You’re not sure?”

“I’m not sure about a lot of things these days.”

Her eyebrows arched. “Are you sure about what you’d like to drink?”

I opened my mouth, but Caden dropped into his chair and answered for me. “She’ll have water or soda.”

“And you?”

A guy dropped into the other empty chair, beer in hand. He was older, in his forties, with his black hair combed back. There were laugh lines around his eyes and mouth. He had a sharp nose and pointed chin. His face didn’t seem like it should be handsome, but it was. He wore a black shirt, and I glimpsed tight jeans before he sat. He stared at me as he spoke to the server. “This motherfucker to my right will have tequila.” He held his hand out to me. “And who is this delicious drink of water on a hot day?”

Caden leaned forward, grabbed the guy’s hand, and placed it back in front of him. “She’s no one, and I’ll have a Corona. No tequila for me.” He paused, glancing at me, and amended, “At least not yet.”

“Diego?” the server asked.

The guy grinned from ear to ear, still gazing at me. “What?”

“You want something else to drink?”

“Just her.” He nodded at me, his grin molding into a smooth smirk. “How about it, mi hermosa?”

The waitress rolled her eyes and left. Caden groaned. “You’re laying it on a little thick, D.”

Just like that, Diego dropped the Casanova mask and leaned back, his shoulders shaking with laughter. “Sorry. But I had to come over and hit on your girl. You know, returning the favor from last weekend.”

“To be fair, your girl hit on me. I didn’t hit back.”

“I know.” A look of genuine fondness came over Diego’s face, and he leaned over to clap Caden on the shoulder. His hand stayed there, squeezing for a bit. “That’s why I love you.”

Caden nodded toward me. “And she’s not my girl. I suppose you can lay it on as thick as you want since you’re newly single.”

“I am.” He swung his head back to me and smiled. “Please tell me you are too?”

I snorted. “Sadly, yes.”

The old me would’ve blushed and said something boring—like I was interested in a guy or I didn’t have enough time for a boyfriend. My honesty surprised me, and apparently them as well. Both were quiet for a second. Then Diego threw his head back and started laughing. Caden grinned, and suddenly I was too.

Or I was trying to grin so I didn’t look like an idiot. Sometimes that wasn’t possible.

Diego tipped his beer. “A salute to you. I’m right there with you.” He nodded in Caden’s direction. “This too-good-looking son of a bitch came in last weekend, not looking for anything except a drink with a friend, and my girl couldn’t help herself. He doesn’t even try. He just sits there, and girls throw themselves at him. After the fifth pick-up line, I had to kick my girl to the curb. She was no longer my girl.”