Vain: A Stepbrother Romance (16 page)

Chapter 3 – Dale

          I
suck in a breath, my eyes traveling from his intricately tousled mop of black
hair to his well-defined cheekbones. His smooth chiseled jaw and tan skin
making his lustrous lips stand out, their movement slaps me out of my reverie
and I mentally hit myself for checking out my despicable excuse of a step
brother, check that terrible excuse of a human!
 
"What are you doing here?!" He snarls hatefully all friendliness gone
from his tone.
          If he was surprised to see me he didn't show it. Just as I thought,
pretty from outside ugly from the inside.
"I can ask you the same, asshole." I tell him and move towards the
door.
“Get out of my way, Dale"
          I try to not look up at him. But it is hard with him towering over
me, his athletic frame becoming more prominent. He moves two inches to the side
as an answer. I sigh in absolute frustration of having to pass through the
little space with him in such close capacity.  It amazed me how someone could
be so attractive on the outside and so unattractive on the inside.

"Aw
have you forgotten already that this is my house? I can come and go as I
please."
          He responds, the conceited persona slipping in like second nature.
When I don't say anything to that he smirks knowing that he had me there
"Move"
          I say firmly, concentrating on not letting the agitation I feel seep
into my voice. This time he listens stepping aside to let me in. The door
clicks shut and I start taking off my coat as I feel his strong callused hands
on top of my bare arms, light as a feather, as he slides down my coat sleeves.
He leans in and I feel his warm breath on my neck. I close my eyes heart
beating a mile a minute. I feel tingles shoot from where he is touching me on
my arms. When he whispers, his voice is deep and husky

"Watch
out, Foster."
          He murmurs leaning in much too close for my comfort. I swallow and
then acting on pure impulse I bring down my 2 inch heel on his sneaker padded
feet forcefully, silently thanking Sarah for convincing me to wear heels. The
barely audible cry that follows gives me the satisfaction that I caught him by
surprise. He was looking at me incredulously. That will teach him.

          "Play
your games with your bimbos, Dale. I don't have time for your crap."
           I say glaring at him. I turn around and as swiftly as possible, make
my way to the lounge where the party is, the sooner I get away from him the
better.

          Emily
studied Art History when she was in college so unsurprisingly every part of the
house is decorated in careful detail with loads of paintings accessorizing the
walls. For example, the lounge has a wood carved Egyptian fire place instead of
the typical electronic one. The floor is entirely engulfed by carpets with
beautiful intricate patterns matching the designs on the cushions of the sofas.
Usually, I would consider sitting near the fire place and enjoying a cozy
evening with a book by my side but today the area was invaded by nearly twenty
people. And the only thing worse than having to deal with so many people at the
same time is all those people being your close or distant relatives. I nod my
hello to all the curious stares and prying eyes obviously wondering what I have
been up to. My dad has massive family that mostly consists of intrusive women
and laid back men from the country side. Since they all live a great deal away
these gathering are thankfully rare but concerning to say the least.
          I make a bee line to where my dad is sitting trying my best to steer
clear of Aunt Brenda and her attempts at pulling me in to another one of her
conversations. Seeing Emily I go to her first. She envelops me in a hug as a
form of greeting. Emily is far from your stereo typical step mom they show in
movies. My dad met her a year after mom died. Before the marriage was
announced, she was the one who insisted on having my approval first. To my
young self, being given that kind of importance was a special thing in itself.
And it sounds a bit cliché but after the marriage she was kind enough to care
for me as one of her own.

          “I
am so glad you could make it, Christopher kept saying you won’t come! Looks
like I win the bet”
          She declares now, lips stretching in to a full smile that reaches her
eyes. Her blue orbs dance in contained amusement as she looks at something or
someone behind me.

“Chris! You
owe me forty bucks son”
          She yells at him across the room. I resist my basic instinct to turn
around; keeping my eyes focused on Emily as a distraction. She shakes her head
black hair coming undone.

“You made a bet on whether I will attend or not?”
          I inquire finding the situation highly entertaining besides my step
brother’s obvious involvement in it. She struggles to come up with an
acceptable answer that will possibly explain a mom betting against her son on
whether her step daughter will show up on a family dinner. I burst out laughing
at her feeble tries and the fact that she was actually beginning to think she
made me upset. She rolls her eyes once again back in her mom role.

“Go find
your dad I’ll try getting all these people to the dining room”
          She says before lightly hitting me on the head, eyes affectionate.
She disappears in the flock of people as I sober up and finally make my way to
my dad.

          Unlike
the living room the dining hall is all colors and hues of purple and black.
There’s a huge table in the center lined with crockery made of delicate china.
Everyone is already sitting as I enter with my dad. He goes ahead and takes up
the vacant chair at the head of the table. The only empty seat left available
happens to be just beside my unbearable step brother. Feeling more than a
twenty pairs of eyes on me I quickly settle myself between him and a 13 year
old girl with pigtails. I will myself to face forward intent on ignoring the
stares. Fortunately, Emily enters at that moment with the food and the excited
chatter starts again.

          The
dinner was delicious. As everyone begins to complement Emily on her culinary
skills my dad opens a bottle of wine. When he offers me some I politely refuse.
For some reason this catches Aunt Brenda’s attention, a felony I have tried to
avoid the whole night.

          “So
Isabelle, what are you doing these days?”
           She probes raising her eyebrows with a fake smile plastered on her
make up caked face. I bite my lip trying not to let her get to me. Aunt Brenda
has always had a thing for prying her nose in to other people’s business. If
there is anything I hate more than Christopher, it would be Aunt Brenda’s vile
ways to make others miserable. I calmly look up at her dyed blonde hair and
sinister smile and tell her about my college, making sure to be as vague about
my financial conditions as I could.

“Oh right,
college Have you thought about getting married dear? Or do you have a
boyfriend?”
          She asks feigning innocence. Beside me, Christopher snorts. Since I
sat down I have stolen a few guilty glances of him. Dressed in a fitted black
shirt that highlights his biceps and dress pants he looks breath taking and if
Sarah was here she would be gawking at his very visible abs. I shake my head as
if to shake this train of thought out of mind and instead, I focus on thinking
of a legitimate answer to Aunt Brenda’s question that won’t disclose the truth
completely but won’t be a lie either. The thing is the people in my family love
to gossip. And I wouldn’t think twice before telling her the truth but if I do
it will get spread as quick as fire and the next thing you know they are
looking for a boy to get me married. I am not even exaggerating, in fact I
wouldn’t be this paranoid if I hadn’t witnessed it happen before. I am about to
excuse myself from the table when I feel something wet fall on my dress, a
second later I hear the sound of a glass being shattered just beneath my feet.

          “Oops”
          Even before I hear it I know who is the reason that my white dress is
currently soaked with red wine. I snap my head towards him. That cocky jerk is
smirking at me. It takes all the patience I have to not slap that stupid smirk
of off his face.

          “Oh
honey come with me I have a spare dress that will fit you, and don’t worry
about the mess I’ll get the maid to clean it up”
          Emily says yet again handling the situation perfectly and saving that
insufferable jerk from getting his nose broken.

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