Read Hooked: A Stepbrother Romance Online
Authors: Iris Parker
Hooked: A Stepbrother Romance
Hooked
by Iris Parker
Copyright 2015 Iris Parker
All rights reserved
Email:
Or follow me on
Twitter
or
Facebook
This is a work of fiction. All characters, places, dialogue, and events in this book are entirely from the author’s imagination, or are used fictitiously. Nothing should be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or people, living or dead, is completely coincidental.
The cover art for this book makes use of licensed stock photography. All photography is for illustrative purposes only. All persons depicted are models. Neither the models nor the photographer have endorsed this work.
My shoe slammed into the puddle, grimy water spraying from the force of my footfall. I didn’t really need to worry about getting wet, having long since passed the point where it mattered. The cool rain blanketed my body, an early morning reprieve from the unseasonable heat that was sure to follow.
I listened to the rhythmic sloshing of my soles hitting the pavement, aching limbs finally beginning to loosen up as I ran down the wet street. From my muscles to my mind, every part of me was tense.
Sleepless nights were always a bitch. Today would be yet another day fueled exclusively by coffee and hope. Adam always supplied me with both, a hot mug and a warm smile. I wished I knew how he did it, how he stayed so serene even as our world was falling apart.
Well,
my
world. He still had his family, a wife and children who would love him no matter what happened this week.
I guess that was his secret, then.
Love.
How obnoxiously cliché.
I took a deep breath and ducked into a side street, yet another detour that would add time to my run. As tired as I was, I wanted to be exhausted. To be numb, past the point of caring, past the point of thinking any more about things outside my control.
By the time I made it to a row of run-down apartment complexes, the wind had picked up and was driving directly into my face. Half blind, I listened to the roar of thunder just overhead.
Like everything else in my life for the past several months, the weather was worse than I’d expected it to be. Back in the fall, rumors about our funding being cut had hit us like a ton of bricks. I’d never been particularly naive, but I had never dreamed the city would be so
callous
about shutting us down. Every single day, I saw the people we helped. The poverty, the struggling families, the street refugees who wanted nothing to do with drugs or gangs and had only one place to go.
Had
only one place to go—past tense, thanks to the petty bureaucrats who’d decided to pay for another round of corporate tax cuts by slashing our budget. We’d fought tooth and nail, but after months of lobbying, begging, and praying, we’d only succeeded in turning the center into a pathetic charity case. Adam and I were faced with the worst possible outcome. We couldn’t even afford the rent anymore, and the only thing left was to begin emptying the building. Between moving all the heavy equipment to a storage locker and figuring out what to do with decades of old records, the job was as physically tiring as it was emotionally exhausting.
Suddenly feeling the chill in my very bones, I picked up the pace. The rec center was the last place I wanted to be right now, but at least it was warm and dry. I took a shortcut through a nearby alley, and soon the old building loomed in front of me.
I shivered.
Of course, I’d find some other place to work. A new town, a new group of disadvantaged youths to try helping. No matter where I went, I’d find people who needed me. It’s not like hurt and need were rare commodities; they were all over.
But knowing I’d be needed elsewhere didn’t help me feel better about the fact I had to abandon people who needed me
here
.
In the last few hundred feet, the rain picked up yet again, drenching me to the bone. I bolted across the parking lot, past Adam’s car and through the metal detector mounted by the front door of the center. My clothes were painted to my skin, a soggy mess, as I walked down the main hall.
My running shoes squelched with every step on the tile floor, the wet sound a stark contrast to the silence all around me. I’d been here early more than once, but today, there was absolutely nothing going on. No squabbles, no brawls, no fights. No laughing, no gossip, no music. There wasn’t a single sound, just old plaster walls slowly crumbling.
We were already done here, really. Friday couldn’t come fast enough.
Adam was already in his office, his door open. As I passed, he gestured at me to come inside, but all I could muster was a quick hello. I didn’t want to be rude, but we both needed some time alone. With a wave back in his direction, I continued down the hall.
A large ping-pong table was folded up and propped against the wall, with a few boxes of tattered Marvel comics to the side. Further down the hall, our old donated PCs were sitting on the floor, wrapped in dirty grey cords. In a haphazard pile lay a dozen badminton rackets, full of holes, and the set of worn-down team vests I’d managed to find sponsors for years ago had been unceremoniously dumped into an old paper bag.
I took a deep breath and sighed. Everything had to go, and my heart was probably going to go along with it.
I pushed the heavy swinging doors to the nondescript room we’d been using as a gym, cursing maintenance one last time for never fixing them. We’d almost lost more than our share of sullen, shy teens who had been determined to take a stuck door as an omen that they shouldn’t be here.
It was a freaking curse to a sports coordinator, I swear. I had enough problems without imagined Signs from Above, like the way my girls revolted at the mere suggestion of
actually doing some kind of sport
at the sports center. My lip twitched in a small smile as I remembered our last softball game.
We’d lost, of course. It hadn’t even been a contest. It was so ridiculous I’d laughed my way through the following weekend, telling my friends the details over a couple of beers at our favorite nightclub.
We had done
so
badly that it wasn’t even frustrating, it was downright funny. From the moment a stray ball had hit Shauna in the face, the whole thing had been a comedy of errors. Her replacement, Jessa, simply could not be pried away from flirting with the visiting teams’ center field. Meanwhile, Domenica had played the entire game with her earbuds in, blasting Nicki Minaj while the umpire yelled at her for dancing on the field.
Shameless, completely shameless. But at least they’d been out on the field, and not in the street. With one more push, the door finally gave and I walked into the gym, my eyes slowly adjusting to the shadowy space in front of me. Immediately, I caught sight of a weird shape in the corner. At first, I couldn’t quite make it out. Boxes? Piles of packing tape? I walked closer, and my nose told me what it was before my eyes could. It was a smell I hadn’t experienced in years.
Oh boy.
Brand new sports equipment
.
Lots of it.
A small, sarcastic laugh escaped my lips before I could stop myself. What I wouldn’t have given for this stuff last year, or even last month. Or just, you know, any time except for
the week we were emptying the building so we could close
. Was this some kind of sick joke? Who could’ve possibly thought it was a good idea to do this
now
?
There was a ton of equipment, all wrapped in thick plastic. The cost of everything probably could’ve kept us open for at least another year. I stood motionless, waiting for someone to come out, to point at me and laugh with a mocking
ha-ha
. We’d struggled to make do for years, and
now
this happens?
I ran back to the door, yanking it open with all my might and bolting to Adam’s office. He was exactly where I’d left him, sitting behind his office desk, ensconced in a grey hoodie. Three cups of steaming hot coffee were spread out in front of him; he knew me well.
“What the hell, Adam?”
He clasped his hands together and smiled gently, motioning for me to sit down.
“Hello to you, too, sweetie,” he said with a light voice.
“Please, just cut to the chase. What is going on here?”
“It’s a long story,” he said, the serious tone in his voice piquing my interest even more. Something was definitely up. Behind the dark circles of his eyes, there was a glimmer of light that I hadn’t seen since last October.
I sat in the chair, nodding silently. Whatever this was, it was obviously big. Had we landed a corporate sponsorship after all? I didn’t relish the idea of shilling out sugary energy drinks of dubious neon colors, but if it would keep this place open….
“I tried to call you last night, but your phone was off and I couldn’t bring myself to tell you such big news over voicemail,” he began as I picked up my drink with trembling hands. “Someone read your interview on Mountain News Daily. He wants to make a donation that’ll keep us afloat.”
Blood rushed to my head, and the pounding in my heart threatened to overcome me. A last-minute donation! I jumped to my feet, coffee sloshing out the sides of my cup as I hastily put it down. Adam opened his arms, his smile a mile wide, and I ran around the desk into his embrace.
“How much is it?” I asked.
“More than we ever imagined we’d get, Em. Enough that, if we wanted to, we could still move out on Friday—but only to go to a better building.”
Pulling away from the hug, I looked him in the eye. “That’s crazy,” I said. Getting this place had been a miracle in itself, its cheap rent making up for the somewhat run-down facilities.
“Not that we should waste it on something like that,” Adam continued. “But we
could
. That’s how much he’s giving us. There’s just one condition.”
I nodded without hesitation, brushing his words away with a swipe of my hand.
Of course
I’d accept whatever condition was needed. It was the least we could do.
“We’re going to enroll two teams in summer sport leagues, boys and girls. Our new benefactor will coach one team himself, and you’ll be in charge of the other. Training starts tomorrow at ten, West Field.”
“You accepted, right?” I said with a smile. I’d been bracing myself for some unpleasant task, but teaching sports was my forte. I loved the summer leagues, and doing it for money wasn’t far from my definition of heaven. I probably looked deranged, grinning from ear to ear, but I couldn’t help it.
“Of course I accepted! Hell, I’d have taken the deal even if he’d demanded I give him daily foot rubs. Not even kidding.”
I barked out a sudden, loud laugh as I pictured Adam, a man with both the build and disposition of Santa Claus, happily married for over twenty years, giving out foot rubs to strange men for money. It was a funny image, but of course, he was right. For that much money, I would’ve done the same thing.
“So it’s just one guy giving us all this? What’s his motivation?”
