Anti-Stepbrother

“Have you seen yourself?” I blurted.

He’d been lifting his beer for a drink. His hand froze in mid-air and his eyes widened a fraction before he shook his head. The smirk morphed into a smile. “Why are you wasting yourself on your stepbrother?”

“What?”

He put his beer down and leaned forward, moving his feet to the floor. “No bullshit. I took you to Diego’s last night. You made me laugh when I normally would’ve stayed angry and screwed some girl I didn’t give a shit about. So no bullshit between us now. Got it?”

I bobbed my head. “Got it.” I grabbed the top of the couch and held on, unsure what was coming at me.

“Your stepbrother is a dick. Why do you have feelings for him?”

I had no answer for him. I just knew I was really afraid of letting those feelings go, though at the same time I desperately wanted to. I couldn’t explain any of it. But there was a different something else going on with Caden and me, something underneath the layer of words and moments of honesty between us. I didn’t know what that was either, but it held me suspended. I didn’t breathe. I didn’t formulate a word or a thought. I was just feeling, and I felt myself pulled toward him.

His eyes darkened again, almost smoldering, but he didn’t close the distance. His head remained tilted toward mine as he waited for my answer.

“Um…” I tried to remember the question.

His voice softened. “Why do you have feelings for him?”

Because you can’t control who you love. And I have to, or— I stopped myself. I couldn’t finish that thought. I lifted a shoulder, holding it against my cheek for some reason, like it was keeping me grounded.

“Sometimes you can’t choose.” I was too lost to even try talking about whatever else was happening.

Caden’s gaze left me, and so did whatever storm had been going on. I felt released somehow.

He murmured, almost to himself, “I suppose.”

My teeth sunk into my lip, and then I remembered my reason for coming in the first place. Scanning his face and hands again, I noted, “You don’t have any bruises on you.”

“Like your stepbrother could touch me.”

“He said you probably had to go to the hospital.”

His lip curled into a slow smile. “That’s funny.”

“So you didn’t? You’re okay, I mean?”

He glanced to me, his eyes warming. “I’m okay.”

“What happened?”

“Kevin walked into a fight that wasn’t his, and he made it his. He started mouthing off.”

“You hit him?”

He nodded, looking down. “He walked into my fist. A few times.” He sighed. “And I’d been wanting to hit him for a really long time, since last year when he hurt a friend of mine.”

My ears perked up. “A friend of yours?”

“I think she was the second girlfriend? He had quite a few last year.”

My mind was going, trying to remember what Avery had said about Claudia. Was she girlfriend number three or two? Did that mean Claudia and Caden were friends?

“Is her name Claudia?”

“No. And I’m not telling you her name.”

“But it wasn’t Claudia?” Claudia who was gorgeous, tough, and a bitch because she trying to be strong for her friends. When he shook his head, I explained, “She’s the first one who made a big deal about you. It would’ve made sense then.”

“A big deal out of me?”

The knots, whether formed from desire or something else, were beginning to loosen now, and I sank back into the couch. My chest felt looser too.

“When you gave me a ride home after that party, Claudia couldn’t believe it. She told me something about how you weren’t known for dealing with underclassmen, and certainly not freshmen. She said you weren’t mean, but not that nice either.”

“She told you that?” He leaned forward. Slowly.

My neck stiffened, but I nodded. “Yeah.”

“Then she’s a bitch, and she doesn’t know me.” The corner of his mouth curved up again. “I have nothing against giving freshman girls rides.”

I would’ve rolled my eyes, knowing it was a joke, but Claudia’s assessment of me still stung. I couldn’t hide it. Caden watched me. I knew he’d figure it out, and a moment later, the couch shifted. He reached over—my stomach twisted—and tugged me next to him. He pulled me into his side, his arm draped over my shoulder.

I sagged into him. I couldn’t help myself. He was warm, strong, and fast becoming an addiction.

“I don’t know why she said that to you, but I’ve had people around me all my life who judge and misperceive things. I have a reputation. I know that, and some of it is true, but most of it isn’t. One of the truths is that I am picky about my friends.”

“Yeah?” I looked up.

He tapped the cleft in my chin. “And for whatever reason, you’ve become one of them.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

We sat like that. It felt nice. It felt right. We watched television, and every time Caden got up for a beer, he brought one back for me and resumed our position. Eventually he laid down on the couch. I shifted so I was half sprawled on top. I was three beers in by then, and with the feel of his arm over my back, holding me in place, and my cheek resting against his chest, hearing his steady heartbeat, I fell asleep.