Bad Boy - A Stepbrother Romance (44 page)

For a short moment, I really think he might kiss me… Not on the cheek, like a proper, chaste brother, but on the lips. Like that time many years ago, like so many times in my mind. But Adam pulls away, regaining his composure much faster than I do.

I call him back, too, but he doesn’t hear it. I’m too weak, anyway… One touch from him and I’m gone. I’ve got it bad already, and we haven’t even done anything wrong yet.

Seeing my stepbrother in the changing room with that waitress was goddamned painful. Trust me, I’m not a fool. I never expected him to stay pure and innocent for all the years we’ve been apart. Hell, even when he lived at my mom’s place, Adam had girlfriends.

But it’s one thing knowing he fooled around, and a different one seeing him touch Bex in such an intimate way, my own hand grinding against my hips, wishing his hands were on me instead. A stupid wish that would be wasted on any fairy godmother… Even fairytale characters cannot make miracles happen.

I go about my daily tasks for the next few weeks, and I avoid Adam as much as possible. I think he’s doing the same, which is probably for the best. Our eyes seldom meet, our bodies rarely touch. We’re both doing our best to stay the fuck away.

If only my mind was as pliable as my body. Instead, my want for Adam grows with each day I spend in his house, and I’m getting scared I’ll have to leave if it doesn’t stop or else I might really act on my feelings – a bad choice for sure.

My first day off is coming in a few days, and I’m ecstatic. To my general surprise, working at the restaurant is not the complete nightmare I imagined it would be. Thankfully, I don’t have to eat the food they make. Bringing it to a guest’s table and smiling like a good girl is the most I have to do. Strangely, Adam isn’t pestering me about eating more, either. Weird.

Alec is proving to be my favorite person among the kitchen personnel. Sweet, raunchy and kind, he’s the big brother figure I could never picture Adam as. He teases me relentlessly, but he is also the one to console me every single time I break down in tears when I mess up orders, spill something, or fuck up in general.

Bex… she’s something else. As soon as I see her with Adam, I decide to hate her on the spot, and she seems to share the same affection for me. I want nothing to do with her, yet I am forced to work in close quarters with the woman, so I behave as properly as I know how.

Bex, on the other hand, throws insults and passive aggressive remarks about me to anyone who dares listen. It breaks me, but I never let her see it. I just purse my lips and give her a tight-lipped smile as a myriad of curse words and names courses through my mind. Stupid mean girls, always getting the best of me.

I slap a kitchen rag on the counter as Alec grins up from his pan, sweaty, but happy. Something everyone in the kitchen seems to be – except for me, that is. After a long, full day, I am exhausted beyond belief. Thank god I have my day off tomorrow, otherwise I might finally snap.

I fight hard against the tears threatening to spill from my eyes, when Alec presents me with a tiny shot glass. I give him a strange look, already suspicious of the foul smelling liquid.

“What is this stench?” I ask uncertainly, taking a whiff of the drink he is offering me and almost gagging on the spot.

“Guaranteed stress reliever,” Alec nods wisely, for once looking serious. I give him a doubtful look, to which he responds with an eye roll, leaning in closer and speaking in hushed tones.

“It’s moonshine, made by my grandmamma. You will hate it, I guarantee it, but you need to take the edge off, baby doll, or I’ll be picking up your pieces off the goddamned floor in minutes.”

“I’m not that weak,” I snap and he backs up with his hands in the air as a sign of defeat. He leaves the tumbler on the counter though, even when he gets back to cleaning.

I give the vile drink a mean look, looking up right into Bex’s face. She stands on the other side of the room, a smirk plastered on her face as she watches me. Before I can look away, she starts making her way towards me. Fuck, just what I need.

“Hello, Tessa Silver,” she greets me with a syrupy sweet voice, an act that doesn’t even conceal her true opinion of me. “Been offered Alec’s moonshine, have you?”

She goes on before I have the chance to reply.

“You know, it’s sort of an initiation thing to drink a glass of it when you join the kitchen,” she says, giving me a pitying look. “I guess everyone thought you too weak to endure it. That, or no one really thinks of you as part of this place.”

She steps closer, her smile smug as she goes on.

“They didn’t do it for me either. I think because they were too afraid of me!”

I raise my eyes to Rebecca’s, my look one of steely determination. “You know what, Bex,” I say, louder this time around, so several pairs of eyes turn towards us.

“I’ve been dealing with mean girls and bullies my whole life. You’re not as special as you think,” I tell her, phrasing my feelings as politely as I can. I just can’t keep it down anymore – the week has been stressful, and I need a release.

“So, why don’t we settle this like we should?” I ask with a sweet smile, and Bex cocks an eyebrow.

I find Alec, secretly watching us from behind a counter. “Alec, bring over another glass for Bex here, please. I take it she hasn’t been initiated, and neither have I… We’d just love to have a drink together, wouldn’t we, Rebecca?”

Her eyes are burning with anger, but she manages to give a nod nonetheless. Everyone gathers around us, the cleaning up of the kitchen momentarily forgotten as Alec ceremoniously pours another glass of the foul drink.

Bex and I each take a tumbler in our hands, giving each other the evil eye as someone starts the countdown. I don’t look away even when her beady eyes seem like they’ll burn a hole in my head.

“GO!” someone says loudly, and we both raise our glasses and start gulping down the clear liquid. In moments, my throat is on fire. And I’m not talking the soft lick of flames you might get with whiskey or gin. This is full on scorching fire, ready to burn my throat to dust.

My eyes widen as I drink slowly, and I look at Bex on the other side of the table. She looks just about ready to collapse, her face is red like a beetroot and she’s panting with the fire burning her throat.

“Fuck,” she finally spits out, setting the glass down with trembling fingers. I’m ecstatic to see it’s only half-empty – well, as ecstatic as I can be with my throat burning up.

Now, everyone’s cheering for me, and even though I’m about to pass out, I know I can’t let them down. So I sip slowly, my eyes closed tightly as I down every last droplet of the foul liquid, setting my tumbler down with a loud clank.

The silence only lasts a moment, and then I’m thrown over Alec’s shoulder like a sack of potatoes while everyone cheers. I sputter and cough, but it’s interrupted by laughter as the kitchen staff starts shouting my name, whooping and laughing out loud.

Alec positions me so I’m facing Bex and she actually looks impressed, not giving me a contemptuous look for once.

“Well done,” she says honestly, giving me a wide grin and then making a face, probably remembering the hot taste of the moonshine we’ve just drank. “You’ve got balls, girl. I could be persuaded to not hate you. Maybe just a general dislike.”

I roll my eyes while upside down and Alec sets me back on the floor. But I make sure to give Bex a kind smile as well. Her fairness did not go unnoticed, and I’m happy we battled it out, as silly as it was, and as sick as I feel at the moment.

I whirl around as the commotion dies down and my eyes land on Adam standing in the doorway. His expression is one of amusement and he cocks an eyebrow as I walk up to him. This time around, I’m the one smirking.

“I’m impressed,” he says genuinely, and I grin widely, grabbing my jacket from the clothing rack as I stroll right past him.

As I go past him, our skin only inches away, I can feel the electricity rolling off his body in waves, like he’s calling out to me to touch him. But I resist like a good girl, just like every single time.

“It’s not the only thing I’m good at,” I reply with a wicked smile and Adam looks intrigued, his eyes urging me to go on. So I lean in closer, changing my mind at the very last moment, my soft breath grazing the sensitive skin on his neck as I lean closer to whisper in his ear.

“Too bad you were never brave enough for a taste,” I tease him, and feel his whole body stiffen. His mouth is agape as I move back, but I only flash a smile before disappearing out of the kitchen.

Thank god for my day off tomorrow. Judging by my heated remark, I need some cooling off.

***

I take the bus home, since Adam needs to stay back and do some work himself. It’s the end of the week, and he has to get the place ready for the weekend crowd.

I sit on the bus with a smile on my lips, for once not feeling exhausted mentally. I finally feel like I belong, like I’ve proved myself of being worthy of the kitchen. And even though my little challenge with Bex may seem like nothing, it’s succeeded in making me feel better about myself.

The journey back usually takes about twenty minutes, and I rest my forehead against the cool window glass as we totter towards my stop. My thoughts are revolving around Adam again, and for once, I don’t try to think of other things.

I’ve learned a lot about my stepbrother since I started working at the restaurant. I only knew bits and pieces before, when I lived with my boyfriend. Now I know more, like the fact that he does charity work on top of his role as a chef. I really admire that about him.

Some people like to spend their down time relaxing, but Adam uses it to work himself harder. He has a charity bearing his name, which is committed to helping kids eat better in schools. He donates a lot of money, does research, and holds meetings. All things he doesn’t have to do, but he knows he can make the world a little bit better doing his part, and he’s determined to put a smile on those kids’ faces.

I admire him for it. I wish I had his drive and determination myself.

Finally, the bus comes to a stop where I need to get off, and I climb the stars and step on the ground. The night is pleasant and balmy, despite the fact that it is now late summer. I’m looking forward to my night in.

Twenty minutes later, I’ve changed into one of Adam’s oversized tees. I still haven’t gotten around to shopping, and when I’m at home, I’ve been secretly stealing his shirts... They’re so comfy to sleep in.

Well, that’s my excuse. The truth is, they smell deliciously like Adam, making my dream of falling asleep with stepbrother dearest that much more real...

Fuck.

I shake my head, knowing I shouldn’t be thinking about that as I turn on the TV in the living room. My stomach rumbles loudly, and I belatedly realize I didn’t grab lunch at work.

I see Adam’s watchful eyes on me. I know he’s making sure I eat ok, but I also know he can’t see me every single moment of the day. But I’m sure he’s made people promise they’ll keep an eye on me in the kitchen.

I need to eat, though.

A rummage through the pantry and fridge is what I need. But all I find is weird looking vegetables and meat... Stuff that needs to be cooked.

I may have gotten good at the waitressing job, but I still can’t cook an egg. So I head into the guest room with a defeated huff, plopping down on the bed with my poor, hungry stomach.

And then I remember something.

I reach for my bag, and my hand comes out with a smashed up Pop Tart. In that moment, it looks like the best thing that could’ve happened to me.

I haven’t tried much food at the restaurant. I’m sure it’s great, but it would be wasted on me, so I just leave the gourmet delicacies for the others. The Pop Tart will do.

Heading downstairs, I clutch the pastry in my hand and finally stop in the kitchen, a puzzled expression on my face. I haven’t used this room much, but a thought becomes clearer and clearer in my mind... Adam doesn’t have a microwave.

“Shit,” I curse softly, my eyes rolling as I consider my options. In the end, I pull out a pan hesitantly and set it on the stove. Getting that to work is another thing, and I spend precious minutes turning it on.

Ten minutes later, I’ve dropped the Pop Tart in the pan and covered it with a glass lid. Truth be told, it’s the most cooking I’ve done in my life, probably.

I walk back into the living room, where the TV is playing a show I used to be engrossed in back at home. Before I can stop myself, I’ve started watching, my eyes glued to the screen as I lean back on the oh-so-comfy sofa. It’s a blessing after the long week I’ve had.

My eyes close of their own accord, and it isn’t long before the sounds become muted, soft whispers and I’m drifting off to dreamland.

***

“Fucking shit! Tessa!”

Loud masculine cursing interrupts my pleasant dream and I nearly jump out of my skin when someone begins shaking me like a sack of potatoes.

“Tessa! Are you okay? Talk to me, please!”

I open my mouth to respond, and instantly, my mouth is filled with something thick and oppressing. I nearly choke on it, my eyes flying open in shock. I can’t see much, either.

Before I can fully comprehend what’s going on, I’m thrown over someone’s shoulder as I loudly protest. My heart beats fast as he carries me through the house, and I slowly start to realize what’s going on.