Crude: A Stepbrother Romance (7 page)

Justin sticks the joint in his mouth and lights it, letting the smoke curl up as he takes a drag; “Says she’s your
sister
, man. Even
you
aren’t that big of a horn-dog.”

I shrug the coolest, most nonchalant shrug in the history of mankind as I take the joint from him and take a pull; “Who says I’m not?”

My two buddies turn and look at each other before suddenly cheering and high-fiving each other like a couple of idiots.

“Oh
shit
, dude!” Mark is looking at me like I’m the second coming of Christ or something; “No
way
!”

“No!” I roll my eyes; “Of course I haven't.”

Justin smirks; “Yeah, and you won’t.”
 

“Wanna bet?” It’s a stupid thing to say, but I can feel the beer and the joint hitting me.
 

Justin shakes his head, blowing smoke out threw his nose; “Oh, please, not a fucking chance.”
 

“I dunno man, the same ‘not a chance’ you gave him on Luke Roberts’s mom?”

I wince at the name while the two of them crack up like a couple of animals.

“Oh
man!
” Mark shakes his head; “That was some gnarly shit, dude. You
fucked
up his whole junior and senior years!”

There are some things in life you can’t take back, as much as you want to, and Cynthia Roberts is one of those things. I’m not proud of that; at all. In fact, I hate myself for it. There’s the chase, and doing things you shouldn’t, and the thrill of the forbidden and all that. And then there’s being wild and being young, but then there’s just crossing a line that you shouldn’t cross.

And Cynthia Roberts? Yeah,
that
was breaking bad in the worst way.
 

I frown as I grab another half-cold beer from the table and crack it open, staring into it as that whole thing from last year that I keep trying to forget about comes creeping back into my mind.

I was young; way
too
young, and she fuckin’ knew it. And I was drunk, and my dad had just died, and she was just all over me. I mean how do you say no to that?
 

I didn’t know how to say no.

And of course these two pricks found out, and then a lot more people found out. People like Luke Roberts.

People like
Mr
. Roberts.

I wince and try and push it all away as I take a huge sip of my fresh beer. Shit, I mean what if one of these assholes made a pass at
my
mom? I’d fuckin’ kill them.
 

You should be nicer to her
.
 

I have no idea why of all people
Paige’s
voice pops into my head like that right then, but I know she’s right. I
should
be nicer; a lot fucking nicer. It’s sort of tough when she’s marrying dad’s boss like a year after he’s in the ground though.
 

“Yo, Earth to Knox.” I look up and realize Justin’s giving me a weird look as he holds the smoking roach of the joint out to me; “What are you, lost in thought there,
mother-
fucker?”

Mark cracks up, and I quickly swallow the bitter sense of self-loathing and regret welling up inside my throat and throw them a casual shrug as I take the pot; “Nah man, just trying to think of the best way to rub your face in it when I fuck Paige McCauley.”

When I’m playing, I can lose myself. Even at practice, playing the songs I
have
to play, I can just zone out and let myself get utterly and totally lost in thought.
 

And honestly, it’s not like I dislike classical at all. I love it, in fact, and it’s why I started playing in the first place. I love the beauty in it; the math, the rules, the way it comes through you like something primal and something sensual through your fingertips and onto the keys.
 

But then, music is more to me than that to me, and I want to explore more of it. I mean even the greats broke the rules; Debussy ignored modern song and chord structure to make some of the most beautiful pieces of work of the 19th century. Heck, Beethoven eliminated orchestral introduction in the concerto, and, well, I know that’s dangerously close to music-nerd-speak, but take my word that it worked out pretty amazingly for everyone.
 

So why can’t I?
 

Why am I stuck following the rules? Why am I stuck following the exact path that’s been chosen for me with zero variation, and not an inch of room to even explore something else that
might
just interest me?

I think of the one time I started to play my dad something I wrote, about my mom nonetheless.  And I’d practiced for
weeks
to play it for him and make it sound perfect for him, and I didn’t even get thirty seconds into it. He wouldn't have it; I’d barely started before he shut the whole thing down.

“What about some Chopin, honey? Don’t you like Chopin?

“Of course I do, I just wanted to play this for you too-”

“You want to go places in life, don’t you honey?”

“Dad, I just-”

“You need a good school to have a good future, Paige, and the extra curriculars they want are classical, not Britney Spears.”

“Dad, it’s not-”

“Enough, Paige. Just start at the top, OK?”

I’m so caught in my own thoughts that I don’t even realize I’ve stopped playing until I blink and realize my hand are still; the room silent.

“Why’d you stop?”

I look up sharply; apparently I’ve also been so lost in it all that I haven’t noticed Knox coming in and slumping into a chair across the room from me. A shirtless Knox, wearing just a pair of jeans that hug his hips
perfectly
as he drapes himself across the stuffed chair with his legs over the arm.

Does he even OWN shirts?

 
“How long have you been sitting there?”

“Long enough to hear how good you are. Why’d you stop?”

I frown; there’s no reason to go down that particular memory lane with
him
of all people; “Because you were watching.”

OK, it’s not even a
good
lie, considering he was sitting there long before I stopped, but if he catches it, he mercifully doesn’t push it.

“What, you don’t want to play in front of people?” He says, raising an eyebrow.

“I- I don’t know.” I say, dropping my hands into my lap. Yes? No?” I smile and shake my head; “I guess I’m not sure.”

Knox grins; “Apparently. So, what’s the problem? Stage fright?”

“No.”

Maybe
.

He chuckles; “So play me one of yours.”

I quickly shake my head; “No
way
!”

“Oh c’mon!” He’s getting up now, undraping his muscled body from the chair and coming towards me; “You’re such a tease!”

I blush and grin; “Oh what are you even talking about?”

“The songs! You got me all hooked on your stuff that night at- oh relax, Jo-Jo and my mom are out,” He says when he sees the look of worry cross my face; “Look, you got me hooked on those tunes before, and what, now I never get to hear them again?”

“I dunno,” I mumble, blushing and looking at my hands against the keys; “I’ll have to think about it.”

Ugh!
What am I,
flirting
with him? How is this even a thing?

“Oh c’mon, Paige! What if I beg?” I laugh as Knox drops to his knees next to the piano bench; “Pretty fucking please, with a cherry on top.”

I roll my eyes, still feeling that silly glow in my cheeks; “
Maybe
, just- just not now.”

“Hey, I mean it’s not like I haven’t heard you before.”

“You
really
don’t want to let that night at the Music Hall go, do you?”

Oh God, I AM flirting with him!
And I hate to say it, but I don’t altogether
dislike
the giggly airy feeling floating through me when I do just let go like this.

But then I gasp suddenly as Knox stands and leans into me, pushing me back into the piano with his hands on the keys on either side of me; “Oh, Paige, I’m not talking about the
Music Hall
, darlin.” He winks that same wicked and salacious looking wink; “I mean, when I was listening to you sing the other night in your room.”

The heat erupts in my face as all those stupid girly “airy” feelings go crashing to the ground along with my dignity; “Oh
screw you!
” I hiss, shoving his laughing, cocky, arrogant face away from me and storming away from him.

“Aww, c’mon!” I can hear him laughing as he starts to pound out “chopsticks” again on my piano; “Play it again, Sam!” He yells after me, laughing as I grit my teeth to drown out the ringing in my ears as I run up the stairs to my room.

That prick.

She’s ignoring me, which is fine.

No wait, fun; it’s
fun
. And it’s fun because she actually
sucks
at ignoring me, big-time. To be fair, I’m hardly making it easy for her, but hey, life is full of complications, right? Besides, getting under Paige’s skin is just way too much fun.

But of course, there’s more to it than that, because it’s not just teasing. Deep down, there’s something stupidly sexy about this uptight, prim and proper, goody-two-shoes virgin. There’s some sort of primal switch that gets tripped in my brain when I even get the
hint
of a thought of spreading uptight, daddy’s girl Paige McCauley’s leg around my waist and burying every inch of my cock inside of her. Fuck, I can’t even say her name in the same sentence without getting rock hard.