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  STEP BROTHER

  by

  JAYNA KING

  Step Brother. 1st Edition

  Copyright © 2014 Jayna King

  All Rights Reserved

  This book is a work of fiction. References to real people, events, establishments, organizations, or locations are intended only to provide a sense of authenticity, and are used fictitiously.

  All other characters, and all incidents and dialogue, are drawn from the author's imagination and are not to be construed as real.

  Table of Contents

  1 -- Tatum

  2 -- Reed

  3 -- Tatum

  4 -- Reed

  5 -- Tatum

  6 -- Reed

  7 -- Tatum

  8 -- Reed

  9 -- Tatum

  10 -- Reed

  11 -- Tatum

  12 -- Reed

  13 -- Tatum

  Step Brother: Part 2

  More

  1 -- Tatum

  Before I even opened my eyes, I could tell that my headache was going to be the kind that lasted all day. I needed ibuprofen, water, and more sleep, but my cell phone was insisting that I wake up. I rolled over to grab the phone and silence the alarm, and I realized that I was most definitely not at home. I panicked and sat up, realizing three things. One: my head hurt worse. Two: I was completely naked. Three: I was not alone.

  A man was asleep next to me, on what I typically considered my side of the bed. I was afraid to move, because I only had the foggiest recollection of the night before, and I really didn’t want to have a face-to-face with my one-night stand. As I looked around the enormous hotel suite that we’d spent the night in, I pushed aside the memories of the man’s naked body and the things he’d done to me—things that felt better than they’d had any right to.

  Looking at the tanned, muscular line of the man’s shoulders and back, I was mortified. I swung my feet over the edge of the bed, moving slowly and steadily, hoping that I wouldn’t wake the gorgeous man who snored quietly every time he inhaled.

  Trust me to have a one-night stand with someone I know. It’s not like I’m likely to run into Reed again—not as big as Vegas is—but why couldn’t I have picked some nameless, faceless guy with a huge bank account and a perfect body—someone I could fuck and forget? No, I had to go sleep with the guy I’d had a crush on for my entire elementary and middle school career. What a fucking idiot.

  There was no trace of my clothes in the enormous bedroom, and while I held my head, hoping it wasn’t going to explode, I tracked down what I’d worn the night before. I found my jeans and shirt on the balcony, and the blinding heat of the Las Vegas sunshine nearly killed me. I found my bra on the bar, and I found my thong on the edge of the enormous hot tub in the bathroom.

  Wow. I must have put on quite a show.

  I dressed quickly and quietly in the bathroom, and then I managed to close the suite door behind me with only the faintest of sounds. Prepared for my walk of shame through the lobby of the Hard Rock Hotel and Casino, I knew that the rest of my day was pretty much guaranteed to suck.

  I climbed into the cab, pleased to see that the driver was having a heated conversation on his cell phone. I was glad I wasn’t going to be forced into small talk. After giving the man the address of the house I was living in, I sat back to run through the slew of text messages that had accrued while I had been acting like a drunken slut with Reed.

  I let Chelsea know I was alive, promising to make it up to her with dinner and drinks tomorrow. I felt bad about having abandoned her the night before, but the vodka and the allure of Reed’s body had been more temptation than I was able to resist. Glad she’d made it back to her hotel safely, I turned my attention to the other messages.

  My father: reason number three that my day was likely to suck—reasons numbers one and two being my crushing headache and the embarrassment at my wanton behavior of the night before. I hadn’t seen my dad since I’d moved back to Vegas after finishing up law school in Texas. It wasn’t that I hated him, exactly. It was more that I was wary of him. I didn’t want to have to deal with yet another heartbreaking disappointment from the man I’d tried to convince myself did really care for me. I texted him to confirm our lunch date.

  Yes, I’ll be there by noon. Any hints about this surprise?

  He wasn’t an easy man to love. I’d had to leave Las Vegas when I was sixteen and go live with my mother in Austin—not that going to live with her was an inherently bad thing. But having to leave all of your friends in the middle of the school year because your father has been arrested on corruption charges—that was an inherently bad thing. I hadn’t wanted to leave, but my father couldn’t parent me very well from a jail cell, even if it did look like he’d only serve a year or so in a minimum security facility.

  I’d looked forward to spending more time with my mother, but that hadn’t overshadowed the impact of having to leave my childhood friends and start over in a new high school.

  Water under the bridge, I thought as the cab pulled up to the curb. I was surprised to see Garrett’s car in the driveway next to mine, and I hoped he hadn’t been worried that I’d stayed out all night.

  I paid the cab driver and unlocked the front door. “Garrett?” I called out, hoping that he would be in the yard or the shower, giving me a chance to wash off last night’s makeup before I had to explain my whereabouts.

  “Well, look what the cat dragged in,” he drawled, looking me up and down over his cup of green tea. “Skanky McFlooziepants has officially arrived.”

  I laughed in spite of myself. “Oh, shut up. You’re just jealous because you were home alone last night, you bitch.”

  He arched a single eyebrow. “Perhaps. Are you okay? You don’t look so hot.”

  “I have the worst fucking headache in the history of mankind, but other than that I’m fine. I was ever so slightly drunk and promiscuous last night, but I’ll get over it.”

  “Am I hearing this right? Little Miss Perfect, straight A’s in law school, had a one-night stand?”

  “Yes, I had a one-night stand. The worst part of it, though?” I reached for his tea and took a sip. “It was Reed Randolph.” I closed my eyes and waited for Garrett’s response.

  “Oh. No. You. Didn’t.” Garrett’s eyes were practically bulging out of his skull. “You finally got it on with Reed? That’s your teenage dream come true. How was he?”

  I shook my head. “He was fucking fantastic. I remember most of it, at least I think I do, and it was amazing.”

  “You going to see him again?”

  “God, no. I’m mortified. I practically threw myself at him, and I don’t want him thinking that I’m the kind of girl who has one-night stands.”

  “But apparently, you are.”

  “Garrett, you don’t have to remind me. I can’t believe it did it, and I’m sure the headache is divine punishment for my having been a slut. I just bailed this morning. Reed was still sleeping when I snuck out.”

  Garrett stood up and came over to pull me into his arms. “Tatum, I’m glad you’re okay, and I’m glad you got laid. You know I’m just fucking with you, right?”

  I leaned against his chest. “I do. I don’t know what I’d do without you, Garrett.”

  “You’d be bored and fat. I know you feel like shit, but there’s no excuse for missing class tonight.”

  “Oh, I don’t think I’ll be able to make it, honey. I have to meet my dad for lunch—he has that big surprise that’s he’s going to tell me about. By the time I finish with him, there’s no way I’ll be in the mood for one of your bootcamp sessions.”

  “Bullshit. You signed up, and you’re gonna do it.”

  “I signed up because you made me.”

  “But you signed up, nonetheless
. Trust me on this one. You’ll feel so much better after an hour of sweating out all the toxins you swilled last night. And we’re doing abs and ass. You can use it, girl.”

  “Jesus, it’s like living with the fitness Nazi.”

  “And you knew that before you moved in, sugar. It doesn’t look good for my image if my roommate is out of shape and letting herself go.”

  I couldn’t help but laugh. “I’m not letting myself go, Garrett. I was thinking about skipping a single lesson.”

  “And you’re not going to skip it. Simple as that. Now go get cleaned up, and I’ll see you at the gym later. I’m going to be late if I don’t get out of here. Tell your dad I said hi.”

  Defeated, I agreed. Heading back to my room to put my phone on the charger and decide what I was going to wear, I realized that it had been nearly two years since I’d seen my dad face to face. I’d traveled some during my breaks from law school, and since my dad had never made me a priority, I always managed to find some place more interesting to visit than Las Vegas.

  I swallowed two ibuprofen, washed them down with as much water as I could stomach, and headed for the shower. Distracted by images of Reed from the night before, and uncertainty about my father’s mysterious surprise, I didn’t realize how long I’d been standing under the water until it started to run cold.

  Standing in front of the closet, trying to decide between comfortable jeans or actually making an effort to look nice, I decided on the latter. Appearances had always been very important to my former small-time politician father, and if I was going to the trouble of trying to reconnect with him, I may as well give it my best shot. I put on a sleeveless black linen dress, pleased to notice that I could see the results of having spent nearly every evening at Garrett’s gym. My arms and legs looked pretty damn good.

  I wondered if Reed had noticed.

  “Quit it,” I said, glaring at my reflection. “Get yourself together.”

  I got behind the wheel of my fifteen-year-old Jetta just as my phone rang.

  “Ma,” I answered, knowing that a call with her would help me keep from over thinking everything while I drove to my dad’s house.

  “Hey, honey. You on your way to your dad’s?”

  “You know, you’re freaky. I just got in the car and am backing out as we speak.”

  “You should put me on speakerphone if you’re going to be driving.”

  “Mom, I’m twenty-three. I have a bachelor’s degree and a law degree. I am a grown-ass woman, and I can take care of myself.”

  She laughed. “I know. It’s like mothers are obligated to say shit like that. Anyway, any idea what your father’s big surprise is?”

  “No clue. If I had to guess, I’d say that he’s decided to run for some local office again.”

  “How do you feel about that?”

  “Honestly, I think it’s a result of his narcissistic personality. I think it’s foolish and selfish, and I think anyone who votes for him is an idiot. But it’s his call. I’m an adult now, and his campaign isn’t going to affect my life the way they did when I still lived with him. It’s his life. I have my own.”

  “That sounds remarkably healthy. Speaking of your life, any news on the job front?”

  I sighed. “Yes and no. No offers yet, but I do have an interview with a great firm on Monday. It’s the best lead I’ve had so far, but I’m afraid to get my hopes up.”

  “I believe in you, honey. If this one doesn’t pan out, something else will. Everything okay with Garrett?”

  “Yeah. I shouldn’t have worried about moving in with him. It’s been a dream.” I laughed. “Except for the sore muscles, that is. The man’s a freaking slave driver.”

  “How’s business at his gym?”

  “It’s really good. I never realized how cutthroat the culture is, though. He constantly worries and tries to come up with new ways to get people in the door. The bootcamps are great, though. I’ve lost another ten pounds since I got here, and you wouldn’t believe how much better my muscle tone is.”

  “Good for you. You’re smart to keep working on positive things, even when you haven’t sorted out every detail of your life. When’s Garrett coming out of the closet?”

  I groaned. “He still says that as soon as he buys his parents out for their half of the gym he’s going to tell them. I think he’s going to chicken out, though. They may be religious wackos, but he’s still their son, and if he were going to tell them, he’d have done it by now.”

  “He really thinks they’d pull their money out of the gym if they knew?”

  “That’s what he says. I don’t know for sure if he’s right, or if he’s just scared to be honest with them. I think he’ll sort it out in time, though. I keep telling him that if he opens a gay gym, he’d be full to capacity.”

  “People have to do things in their own time, Tatum. He’s lucky to have you for a friend.”

  I smiled. “Goes both ways. He’s been really wonderful, especially with Chelsea being out here.”

  “What do you mean? Did something happen with you and Chelsea?”

  “No. It’s just that seeing her again put me right back in my last year of undergrad. I felt just as hopeless and awful as I did when Thompson and I broke up.”

  “That asshole.”

  “Mom, it’s weird. I’ve accomplished so much that I should be proud of since then, but walking in on him and that girl made me feel like the biggest loser—like I was never good enough for him.”

  “Tatum, I get it. Seeing Chelsea reminded you of all that, but it’s in the past, and that rich boy prick was never good enough for you. I always felt like there was something about him I didn’t trust.”

  “Yeah, I know. I think I’m just down because I haven’t found a job and feel like I’m kind of drifting.”

  “You’re one of the smartest people I know, and you’re not drifting. You’re in a transitional period. The economy sucks, and it takes longer to find good jobs than it used to. Keep working out with Garrett, and keep pounding the pavement. You’ll find something. I believe in you.”

  “There’s nothing like talking to your mother to boost your self-esteem,” I said, looking over my shoulder before I changed lanes. “I better run. I’m less than a mile from the gate to Dad’s neighborhood.”

  “Good luck today. I hope things go well.”

  “Thanks, Ma. I love you.”

  “You too, honey.”

  I swear I could feel the disapproval in the guard’s gaze as he asked me who I was visiting and checked my name against his list. When he waved me through without another word, I thought about telling him that I planned on replacing my old car as soon as I landed a job, but I realized that my fretting about what he thought said more about me than it did about him.

  Dad was the one who cared about his public persona, his neighborhood, and his social status. I didn’t want to be that person. Not anymore. When you discover your social standing is built on lies and criminal behavior, you lose your illusions really fast. I should know. At sixteen, I went from privileged princess to pitiful pauper practically overnight.

  “Damn, I love alliteration,” I said, laughing at my tendency—even in my thoughts—to compose everything as if I were presenting it to a judge and jury. I had always worked on thinking before I spoke and making sure that my words were measured, effective, and compelling.

  “Well, except for last night,” I said, rolling my eyes as I remembered collecting my underwear from all over the Hard Rock’s suite. “I must have been out of my mind,” I said, turning into the wide, semi-circular drive that led to a grand, blinding white portico supported by ornate columns.

  I shook my head as I pulled beneath the huge structure. “Dad never did anything half-assed.”

  I pulled up next to the other car parked in the shade of the overhang, patting the dash of my Jetta before I got out. “You have nothing to be ashamed of,” I said to my car, letting my eyes travel over the sexy lines of the gleaming, dark blue sports car
parked beside me. Unable to resist the temptation to walk around the low-slung car, I noticed the Nevada vanity plate on the back. “Inked,” I read aloud, drawing the word out slowly and thinking about the tattoos I’d seen on Reed’s naked body just twenty-four hours ago.

  Shaking my head to dispel the vodka-hazed fantasy of the night before, I took a deep breath and started toward the enormous front doors. My steps were measured, slow and steady, as I tried to steel myself for the encounter. My feelings about my father had always been so mixed up ever since his very public trial and incarceration. Even though I knew he loved me, part of me would never forgive him for having broken the law and rocked my world so fundamentally. I loved him, but I struggled with knowing that I hadn’t completely forgiven him.

  “You can do this,” I whispered. “It’s just your father. It’s just lunch.”

  I raised my hand to knock on the door—far grander than the one that had graced the house I’d grown up in—but before my hand met the wood, the door swung open.

  “Tatum, my God, it’s so good to see you.” My dad opened his arms wide and folded me into a long hug, pulling me inside and closing the door.

  He finally let me go, and I looked him over, just as he did me.

  “You look great,” we both said in unison, dissolving into laughter at our shared response.

  “Tatum, you were always a beautiful young woman, but you are just stunning. You look”—he hesitated—“strong,” he finished, having carefully considered his word choice.

  “I was thinking the same about you, Dad. You look … happy. And relaxed.” And healthy, I thought, wondering if maybe, just maybe, my father had finally decided to start taking better care of himself.