HIM—A Stepbrother Romance: With BONUS NOVELLA: PERSONAL (19 page)

BOOK: HIM—A Stepbrother Romance: With BONUS NOVELLA: PERSONAL
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RAMON

 

She was cute when she whined.

“Funny!” I replied. “If you really want to take it easy, we can. But if you want to be pushed, which is key for blasting… for fast progress, then let me know.”

“Like a safe word?”

“Funny.”

“I’m funny Fat Cat, remember?”

She laughed, but I didn’t. Her comment didn’t settle well in my stomach. Sure, others called her that, but no girl should call herself that.

I pushed the RPMs up just a bit. The fast walking caused her tits to bounce so high I had to look away. I needed to avoid getting lost in her cleavage. Her luscious boobs were really something. I was always a sucker for big tits and curves.

“I really appreciate you letting me come here. You’re a nice guy.” She was of breath already. I felt concerned that I might have already been pushing her too hard.

“Thanks.” I started to feel uncomfortable. I just knew that at any minute she would start asking personal questions. I didn’t want to get personal. I wanted to stick to what we guys do best when we’re in the zone: music, weights, small talk, and focus.

I turned up the music on my favorite playlist, letting the speakers blast loudly, just as I did every day.

“Seriously, this is almost state of the art. Must have cost a fortune,” she marveled.

“It did!” I shouted over the music. “Now, let’s get you in the zone. Are you good at following instructions?”

“Yes.”

“Do you trust me enough to know that even though you may feel like dying, I know what I’m doing?”

“Yes.”

“And are you willing to be trained like an athlete?”

“Why do I feel like I should be saying, ‘Sir yes sir’!?” She yelled out, laughing. I amped the RPMs up a bit, making her jog lightly. Damn, those massive tits bounced even more. They were beautiful!

I immediately pictured what they looked like naked. I’d never seen such natural, full breasts. I caught myself staring at them a little too long, so I cleared my throat and acted like I was concerned with her breathing.

“You need to pace your breathing. Come on, give me thirty seconds of this jog, C.”

“I don’t run! I can’t jog!”

“Come on!” I blasted the music louder as I watched a sense of determination deepen her expression.

“Can you go just a bit faster?”

“I may die!”

“But would you do it for me?”

CAT

 

Would I do it for you?

What girl in their right mind
wouldn’t
go the extra mile for Ramon Nicholas, with those chocolate puppy dog eyes, that shaggy hair, that mischievous smile, and that tan skin?

It was like that famous Ryan Gosling meme. The one where he’s like, “Hey girl, good luck with your work out. I believe in you.” Or the other one of him, my favorite, which says, “Hey girl, since you started squatting, your pants aren’t the only ones that fit a little tighter.”

I’d go the extra mile for him. A part of me had an instant secret fantasy: by working out the hardest I could in this moment, I would be the lucky girl to be on his arm at the Prom.

With that instant motivation, I killed it. I ran as fast as I could, like a black bear was chasing me and I was running to survive.

“There you go!” He encouraged. “Ten more seconds.”

Somewhere deep inside, determination mustered. I surged like a rocket.

I cried out in pain.

I sighed.

I struggled.

But I kept going.

“Three…two…one…” He lowered the RPMs down to until I was back to a fast walk.

“Atta girl!” His strong hands touched my shoulder and every part of my body suddenly froze up at the touch of his hand on my bare shoulder.

Dear God, help me. I realized I had a problem.

I shook my head, shaking up my thoughts.

“Thanks. But I can do it again. Let’s do another round.”

Determined to crush off my lust, I disappeared into my workout, surprising myself how much I liked the adrenaline, the rush, and the thrill of training.

Forty-five minutes later, after a full body circuit, I was stretching out on the mats.

“You sure you don’t need my help at all? You may be pretty sore considering you’ve never lifted weights before,” Ramon inquired.

“They were like five pounds.” I protested, guzzling water.

“Yeah, but we fatigued you by doing several sets.”

“Nah, I’ll be fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah.” I said, still in my zone. Something inside me shifted. I suddenly had tunnel vision, possibly because I realized working out wasn’t hard and tedious. I actually liked it!

My eyes glanced up at the wall clock. It was 7 pm and my stomach growled. I reached for my phone to check on dinner plans with mom.

Mom’s text read:
Baby, plans have changed tonight. I won’t be home for dinner. Sorry, love. But there are a few leftovers inside you can eat. Love you.

I sighed.

“What’s wrong?”

“Oh nothing. Mom just canceled dinner plans on me tonight for something that came up.”

“Oh yeah?” He scratched the back of his neck and checked his own phone, texting and making a few swipes with his fingers. He was probably scrolling through massive texts from all his latest flavors of the week.

He really did have handsome, male model hands.

“Yeah, so what are you going to eat then? After this workout, your body needs some pretty good protein.”

“I don’t know.” I responded quietly. “I’ll figure something out.”

He turned off the gym lights and locked the door. It was dark now, and a few spotlights lit the path back to the dirt trail. Without warning, a four-legged golden beauty nearly knocked me down.

“Sorry! Down girl! She’s excited. Sorry, I don’t want her paws to get you dirty.”

I crouched down to give some love to the happy dog. Her wet sloppy tongue hung out and her eyes danced as I pet her. We didn’t have time for pets at home, although I always wanted one.

“What’s her name?”

“Thena.”

“Hm.”

“After Athena. My dad named her.” Ramon’s normal tone was reduced to a mumble for some reason. He was happy to see his dog but he looked worried, afraid of something, and I wasn’t sure what it was.

“Well,” he said, “You did great, I think if you keep training like this…”

He had stopped speaking because I’d stopped paying attention. I couldn’t help myself; I loved dogs. She had her ball in her mouth and dropped it, an invitation to play. I picked it up, threw it as far as I could, and then ran after her with my phone’s flashlight on. She chased it with the tenacity of a CIA agent on a one-track mission.

“Thena! Where’s your ball? Where’s your ball?” And then I stopped at the edge of a piece of agricultural land I failed to see on the other side of the property.

What. On. Earth.

My flashlight surveyed the green plants with the pointed leaves. There were rows and rows of them. The Texan wind picked up and carried the fragrance, a taboo signature scent only certain plants could yield. Certain
illegal
plants. Marijuana.

I’d never tried it, but I knew enough of what it looked like to know what it was.

… And I didn’t mean to see them, I swear. But I did, and now I couldn’t help but hear Bob Marley play in the back of my mind.

I spun around to see his worried face in the moonlight.

“Shit.” He ran his fingers through his hair.

“Ummm…Ramon?”

“Look, ummm…” He paused, a long sigh following his silence. “Come on. I shouldn’t have brought you here. I fucked up man.”

“Uh, yeah you shouldn’t have! You guys are pot growers?”

“I’m not. I have nothing to do with it.” His voice was flat.

“Like… isn’t growing pot illegal? I know it’s been legalized in a few states, but we all know Texas will be the last state to allow it.”

He ran his hands through his hair again, obviously upset. “Look, Cat.
Please
don’t tell anyone. I mean anyone. No one can know about this. I could get in some serious trouble, okay?”

“You?”

“Well, even though it’s not mine, I still live here.”

RAMON

 

Fuck! This was bad. Real bad. I cursed myself over and over again. I knew better than to bring anyone here. What was I thinking!? I had steered her as far away from the plot of land as possible. Before she came, I went ahead and lit up dozens of hanging Cutter mosquito repellants across the wires from one tree trunk to another, all in an effort to disguise the strong smell.

Now, standing in the moonlight seeing the lit candles, and tiki torches, it looked more like a party than anything.

But it was that look on her face that made the situation worse. It was an expression of mischief. Her bright green eyes sparkled with trouble, their naughtiness only further enhanced with the fiery glisten of the candles in their reflection.

“I want to try it, Ramon. I’ve never done it before.” Her eyes continued to sparkle with naughty desire. Under any other circumstances, my cock would have twitched with excitement, but right now I was terrified.

I hadn’t smoked pot since eighth grade. It was fun, and I did it with a few of my buddies in off-season, but that was it. I was too focused on the game to jeopardize myself with drug tests.

If I was ever going to light one up in the next decade or so, it would be this very month.

I don’t know what it was. Maybe it was her daring attitude, boredom, or dad’s text telling me he’d be home late tonight, leaving me home alone yet again. Perhaps it could have been stress from sucking it up in algebra, knowing I was going to flunk the test in a few days, and the realization that I needed to rest my brain. Whatever it was, it had won, and minutes later, we were sitting on a leather couch that rested under a big pecan tree and lighting up a joint together.

Moments later, my limbs felt like jelly, and I welcomed the easy, relaxed feeling that came from having no worries at all. There we lounged, on the couch, staring at the twinkling sky, two kids whose lives would change forever once we graduated.

“Dad’s dad had this land, but they didn’t take good care of it. They just owned it as an investment,” I explained. “Nestled back here like it is off road, you can see how it makes the perfect location for a pot farm.”

“Then, how did he get into this?”

“Dad was born in the seventies, in the middle of the marijuana boom. Maybe it was his destiny or something. I don’t know. But with his dad away in Vietnam, it left him free to be a seeker at a young age. He hated what war did to families. Even though the war ended when he was young, he still had that imprint of his father’s PTSD from being overseas.”

I counted my fingers, really slowly doing the math. It felt like it was taking me forever to count. Fucking learning disability. I was trying to convey to her how old my dad was when he went to Peru but my brain wouldn’t focus.

Her emerald eyes were studied me intensely. Like reeeeeeally studied me.

“He was always fascinated with travel and reading these interesting books, so he went to Peru.”

“No way! That’s so cool. What did he do there?” The excitement in her voice was beautiful.

“He said he went to find himself. Have you ever heard of ayahuasca?”

She shook her head no.

“It’s like this drink that Amazon shamans have been using for centuries. They say they would use it to open secret windows to our soul. It’s supposed to lead to enlightenment, allowing you to see things, or experience terrifying things happen.”

“Are you shitting me?”

“It gets crazier. Just wait for it.” I held up my hand and burst into an uncontrollable fit of laughter. She joined in naturally. We laughed and laughed without any idea as to what we were even laughing about. Then I sighed in contentment and stared at the twinkling stars.

“I’m waaaaaitinggggg…”

“On?”

“The story!”

“Oh yeah! Right.” I cleared my throat. “Damn ADD. Anyway. So, like, apparently during his trip, I guess you can say, some guy there liked his view on life and felt like he was really wise and could offer a lot of wisdom to where he lived in California.”

“What do you mean?”

“He was sort of invited to live in a Hippie commune in northern California. It was a place completely off the grid, off the map. It was a place where he wouldn’t have to work just to make money, but a place where he could explore life fully. So he thought, why not? It’s there he—”

“Wait, wait, wait, wait.” Her hands shot up. “You’re shitting me! This did not happen!”

“I swear to you. Remember Y2K?”

“No, we were like five or six or something then.”

“These people were convinced the whole world was about to go off the grid once the computers crashed. So they were preparing their new life and community years ahead of time.”

“You swear this happened?”

“Promise you. There are still places like this around you know. Anyway, this was before Google, so this place wasn’t locatable. You had to be personally invited. That’s where he met my mom, Moonshine.”

“Moonshine.” She repeated.

We both cracked up laughing, and to be honest, it felt good. I hadn’t ever laughed like that with a girl. I was usually making out with them, or had my hand down their panties or in their bra cupping their tits. It was nice to relate like this with her. I never told anyone about my mother.

I was suddenly very aware that I was staring at her pink lips glistening in candlelight for a veeeeery long time. Either that, or it was the weed. I always thought she had perfect lips for…

“So where’s your mom now? I mean. We don’t have to talk about her if you don’t want.”

“I don’t know. I was dropped off by a stork.” She joined me as I burst into laughter again. “For all I know I could be like, Superman or something.”

We laughed like it was the funniest thing in the world.

She slapped her leg and looked at me. “Suuuuuuuuperman! Totally!”

She gripped my shoulder laughing. It grip was firm against my muscles, and oddly, I liked the way she touched me. My eyes danced at her full pout again, dressed in all that sparkly strawberry pink lip-gloss. I wondered what it tasted like. They were total DSLs: dick-sucking lips as we jocks joked in the locker room. I shook my head. What was I thinking?

“But for real though, you were just dropped off in, like a literal basket?”

“Yep.”

“And your dad was sure it was his? I mean you were his?”

“Oh yeah.”

“How did she even find your house?”

“His letters he’d write home. He left one in his room accidently before he left. It’s funny, there on the first line would say DAD.” I laughed hysterically at that. “Dad! Like, hey dad! No first or last name. But she knew it was his dad’s house.  After spending half a year there, he decided to come back to Texas and start a business. They used to live up in Little Elm off Lewisville Lake, but they’d come out here every once in a while to keep an eye on this property. Anyway…”

I trailed off as I realized I was talking a shitload. The truth was, with her, I wasn’t a football star. I was just a guy and I could shoot the breeze. I hadn’t taken anyone out here before. Not even my best friend. It was refreshing.

“You know, you’re really easy to talk to.”

“So are you.” She smiled. “So, liiiiiike, your mom tracked your dad down?”

“My grandparents’ house down. Since that’s where he wrote the letters. And she delivered me on the door step.”

“Fuck, that’s insane.”

“Yep… yep it is.”

“And you haven’t heard from her ever since?”

I shook my head no, the night breeze shaking off nostalgia.

“What’s that like? Having someone with such a big role in your life, like a person that was meant to be there, to not be there?”

I shrugged my shoulders, laughing because she didn’t make sense to my stoned mind in the moment. I was so high, all I could do was laugh. She joined me and our laughter sang to the creatures of the night. 

“You know, I don’t mean to sound all creepy, but you’re beautiful just the way you are, you know? You don’t need to change a thing about you?” I took the moment to look her in the eyes, briefly, before flitting them away into the distance.

“Thanks, Ramon. I just want to, like really reach my full potential, you know?”

I totally knew where she was coming from. I let her statement settle in the pre-spring air. I don’t know how long we remained quiet. When you’re high, everything seems like it’s a long time.

“I know I have to change my eating. I mean, with my mom’s salon and her business partner having the gourmet cupcake store freaking right next door, well, I haven’t always made the best food choices,” she shared. “I grew up around women, gossip, and plenty of sweets with homemade pies and cookies.”

“Man, you’re making me hungry.” My stomach threatened to rumble, another side effect of smoking.

“My mom doesn’t gain weight though. She has such a high metabolism. My mom also has a very busy life, one that she leads by choice.”

“You drive a pretty nice Audi.”

“Thanks. Dad left a few things for me in reserves in his will. He had our house paid off before his… death.”

The way she drew out that last part left me feeling like her open book was closing. I thought about changing the subject.

“What about you, Ramon?”

“What about me?”

“What are your grand plans?”

I loved talking to her like this. She was actually fun to talk to. Relaxing like this out on this couch with the stars twinkling at us like this was something I couldn’t experience with another girl.

“Work my ass off. There’s no other option for me. Like I said back in the gym: this is my fate – well, I
have
to make it my fate. Football’s tricky. You can play the game, but you have to make the grades. I wish school wasn’t so damn hard.”

“What do you mean?”

“I struggle bad with my studies. Barely even passed last semester. I feel so stupid, you know?”

Her face was genuinely concerned. “I don’t think you’re stupid. Anyone who can remember all the plays like you do? That’s not stupid. It’s pretty freaking genius.”

“I’m book stupid.” I took a deep breath, and all the memories of how I felt as kid in special ed class came flooding back to me. “I know what it’s like to feel hidden, not seen for who you are, what you really are.”

She gasped slightly at my confession. “You do? How’s that even possible? You’re like Channing Tatum. Hot. All the girls want you.”

“I have a learning disability. I used to be in special ed classes. At that time, I wasn’t looking like I do now. But those wounds are still with me. I still feel like the dumb kid who can’t even read or add numbers right.”

“Well, I would have never guessed that, Ramon,” she replied. “Sometimes our brains our wired special. Not everyone can throw the ball like you. You just have this last semester left and you’re a free man on the way to your football dreams. They’ll have the best tutors for you. You know that right?”

“Yeah. I’m failing right now though. Math.”

“Well, if you need help. I can help you, you know?”

“You’re funny and smart?”

“Well, I don’t want to brag.”

“And beautiful.”

She rolled her eyes like she didn’t believe me. “You just want to get in my panties. You say that to all the girls. I know alllllllll about you, Ramon Nicholas.”

She rubbed her tummy, which rumbled just loud enough for me to hear
. “Man, I’m suuuuuper hungry. Is it just me? Let’s make something in your kitchen. Do you live around here? I mean, you…”

I sobered up real fast, scratched the back of my ear uneasily.

“You don’t want to see my house.”

“Why not?”

“Because. It’s hardly a house.”

“Aw, don’t be shy, Ramon. Does it have a fridge?”

“Yeah.”

“A stove? Plates?”

“Of course.”

“Then that’s all I need. Come on. Aren’t you, like, freaking hungry? God, I’d kill for quesadillas right now. No, nachos. Noooo, pizza.”

“All of those sound good right now.” I confessed. My stomach was threatening to howl with hunger too. Pushing my discomfort to the side, I guided us toward food. “Just follow me then.”

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