Side Swiped By My Step Brother (6 page)

              What the dress is, though, is way too small. This is probably form fitting on Megan; on me, it’s . . . well, it’s not what you would describe as tasteful fashion. It’s so tight, in fact, it’s actually uncomfortable, and should I inadvertently lift my arm even an inch too high, both my tits are going to come spilling out the top.

              “Are you almost done in there?” My mother taps on the bathroom door. “I’m coming in.”

              The door opens before I can say anything.

              “Are you kidding me, Emma,” she says, hands on hips. “Did you borrow this dress from a five-year-old? Because that’s who it looks like it was made for. Someone who’s five, a person who is very small and very thin. Who doesn’t need a lot of fabric. Who doesn’t have . . . this.” She makes a vague sweeping gesture toward my chest. “You’re deliberately doing this, aren’t you?”

              She’s got a bottle of concealer in her hand, a blob of it on her forefinger, and she comes at me, jabbing at the side of my neck.

              “Ouch!” I try to jump back but the bathroom counter’s right there, so I’m trapped. “Geez, Mom, do you have to be that rough?”

              “Just hold still,” she snaps, rubbing it in. “Clearly you like it rough.”

              “Mom!”

              “Just shush. Hold still.” She takes a step back and squints at me, then shakes her head. “Nope. Not going to work. Jessica, do you see that scarf I showed you earlier? Can you bring it in here?”

              My sister appears a moment later with a square of silk that I suppose is supposed to be one of those designer scarves. I don’t even want to know how much money my mother paid for it.

              “Here,” she says. “You’ll have to wear this. It doesn’t exactly match the dress, but it’s the best we can do. And then we have to go. I thought that I’d be able to share a glass of champagne with you two before we went to the restaurant, but I’m sure the car’s been out there waiting for a while now, so we just have to go.” She knots the scarf around my neck. “There.” She gives me another look. “No more surprises, okay Emma? Let’s just have this night go smoothly. Do you think that could happen?”

              “Yeah, of course.” I feel like I’m wearing a corset. I can barely extend my legs enough to take a normal step. Jessica and I follow Mom out of the hotel room.

              “Well,” I whisper to my sister. “At least this night can’t get any worse, right?”

Chapter Eight

Jai

              Between golf, drinks, and then waiting to go the family dinner, I find myself with a few spare moments, so I ring Mum.

              “I went golfing today,” I tell her.

              “You went golfing?”

              “I did. I was more like a glorified caddy. But Dad was happy as a pig in shit, so I suppose that’s all that matters. I’m not really looking forward to the dinner tonight, but that just puts me one day closer to coming home. Why did I let him talk me into spending two weeks out here? That’s half a month.”

              “Oh, honey.” Mum sighs. “I think it’ll be good. I know your father has a lot of guilt about being absent from so much of your childhood, so you two getting to spend this time together will be a good thing. And that’s nice you’ll get to see the lake house. I do miss that place.”

              “I know. There is a part of me that won’t mind going back there for a bit, honestly.”

              I do actually have some fond childhood memories of my dad’s house on Toluca Lake—swimming, lying on the dock, going out in my father’s boat.

              “Well, I don’t blame you for wanting a little relaxation. You’ll have a good time out there. Thank you for calling. Do tell your father I send him my best, will you, darling? I’m sure I’ll talk to you before the wedding . . . And good luck at the dinner tonight. I’m sure your new family will be very nice.”

              “Thanks, Mum.”

              I am actually looking forward to this dinner, because aside from a few cups of tea and the blueberry muffin that Emma didn’t eat, I haven’t had anything to eat today.

              Despite this, when we get to the restaurant, I find myself making a beeline for the bar. I’m still no lightweight when it comes to drinking, but it hits me a little harder when my stomach is completely empty the way it is now. I get an IPA. I drink it slowly, hearing the hum of conversation behind me. I figure I need to drink at least one beer now, to get me through the litany of questions from people I don’t even know, most centering around my accent and what part of England I’m from, and who it is I’m related to here, and how did it come to be that an American like my dad has a British son?

              I’ve almost finished my beer when I hear my stepmother-to-be calling my name. She really doesn’t seem that bad, to be honest, though she does have this nervous sort of high energy that one might associate with a Chihuahua, or other small dog. Perhaps it’s just the pre-wedding jitters.

              “I want you to meet someone,” she’s saying, and I don’t know if she’s talking to me or the person she wants to introduce to me. Doesn’t matter—I just need to finish this beer and it’ll be fine. I tilt the last of the liquid down my throat, set the bottle on the bar, and turn.

              “Hello,” I start to say, but stop dead, because standing in front of me, looking shocked and sexy as hell in a dress that’s about three sizes too small—yet somehow she is managing to pull off—is Emma.

Chapter Nine

Emma

              I’m too busy adjusting my scarf to escape my mother’s grasp before it’s too late. When I look up, Jai is turning around, rearranging his face into a pleasant expression, holding his hand out. The second he sees me, the looks falters, but only for a second.

              “Hello,” he says.

              Beside me, Mom grins. “Emma, I’d like you to meet your new stepbrother, Jai. Isn’t he adorable?”

              My face is probably five different shades of red. I open my mouth to say something, anything, but nothing comes out. I start to stutter but then just clamp my lips together. Jai reaches out, shakes my hand, and then takes a step closer, covertly brushing his lips against my cheek.

              “Love the scarf, darling,” he whispers, before pulling away.

              This is not happening. This is not fucking happening. I am dreaming. I’m still hung over and asleep in my bed, in my apartment, and when I wake up, I’m going to realize that it’s really late, maybe the next day even and I’ve missed this dinner completely, but who cares because that would mean none of this is actually happening.

              My mother is saying something, but I can’t for the life of me understand anything that anyone is saying. And the dress suddenly feels a thousand times tighter, because I can’t seem to draw in a breath, can barely even stand straight. All I’m aware of is Jai, standing there with a smirk on his face. Did he know? Did he somehow know about all of this before we’d even gone out? Was Megan in on this? Were they all? What kind of sick fucking joke was this?

              “I’ve got to use the bathroom,” I manage to gasp out. I pull away before my mother or Jai can say anything, and hurry off. I cannot get away from there fast enough.

              In the bathroom, I splash cold water on my face. The dress is so tight it actually hurts to lean over the sink, but the water feels good against my hot face. Still, I can’t seem to catch my breath, cannot seem to wake up from this nightmare.

              I look at myself in the mirror.

              “Get a grip,” I say. “Get through this evening. Go back out there, completely ignore him. Or . . . no, don’t make it obvious, but be cordial, and that’s it. Get through the wedding, and then never see him again.”

              Except—we’d be stepsiblings. I’m sure there’d be some sort of holiday or family gathering that we’d have to be within each other’s vicinity.

              The bathroom door opens, and I pretend that I’m still washing my hands.

              “Emma?”

              I let out a breath and turn. “Hey.”

              Jessica comes over and stands next to me, our reflections looking back out at us from the mirror.

              “Everything okay?”

              “Yeah,” I say. “I just feel . . . a little overwhelmed, I guess.”

              “It is a lot,” Jess says. “It’s so weird to think that Mom’s getting married again. But good, too. She’s so happy. I can’t remember seeing her this happy. I mean, who knows if it will actually last or not, but . . .” She leans toward me. “And I have a confession: Our new stepbrother is super hot.” She giggles. “I know that’s probably totally wrong of me to say on like so many levels, but he’s gorgeous. I’m like actually a little psyched we get to spend two weeks at the lake house with him.”

              I feel like gagging.

              “You don’t think so?” Jess waves me off. “Well, you’ve always had higher standards than me.”

              I snort. “Yeah, sure. I’m not the one with a fiancé, or a career.”

              “You’re in school. There’s plenty of time for you to get a fiancée and career. And sometimes, a career and a fiancé isn’t as awesome as you think it’s going to be. There are days when I really wish that I was still in school. Enjoy those days. I’m gonna go pee and then we should go back out there, okay? And if you don’t want to spend the night checking out our new stepbrother, then I will!” She laughs and goes into one of the empty stalls.

              While she’s in there, I grip the side of the sink and give myself another pep talk—this time silently—in the mirror.

              Just go out there and act normally. No one has to know about this. You can get through this. I take a deep breath—or as deep a breath as I can in this dress—and walk out of the bathroom.

              Back in the restaurant, people are lining up at the buffet, helping themselves to filet mignon, veal medallions, saffron risotto, bacon wrapped shrimp with pesto, oysters on the half shell, arugula and endive salad. I get a plate and take some salad and a few of the oysters. That’s probably about all I’m going to be able to eat if I still want to fit in this dress.

              I’m reaching for a napkin when I see that Jai is on the other side of the table, helping himself to a generous portion of the oysters.

              “You know what they say about oysters,” he says. I pretend I didn’t hear him, but when I look over, he’s staring right at me.

              “What?” I hiss. “You think you’re being clever? You think you’re going to impress me with that totally unoriginal line, like I’ve never heard that oysters are an aphrodisiac? That’s not why I took some—I happen to like how they taste very much and as a poor college student, I can’t afford to eat like this!”

              He’s still staring. At my chest. Then the smirk returns. “Might want to pull up that dress, Janet Jackson.”

              “What?” I look down. My left breast has completely popped out of the top of the dress, my nipple there on full display for anyone who happens to be looking. “Shit!” I try to stuff myself back in the dress, dropping the plate of salad and oysters in the process. “Fuck!”

              “You know, they’ve got things you can paste on in these sorts of situations.” He reaches over and picks up the wayward oysters and puts them back on my plate.

              “I’m not eating those,” I say. “I need to talk to you.”

              I wriggle my shoulders and try to get myself as secure in the dress as I can before I hurry around to the other side of the buffet table. “I need to talk to you over here.” We go to the back of the restaurant, near the hallway to the bathroom, and I strategically place myself behind one of the columns that keeps us partially obscured from the rest of the restaurant.

              “Imagine meeting you here,” Jai says, a slow grin spreading across his face. “I really had no idea. No idea at all. I knew I was going to be getting some stepsisters out of this blessed union, but I really had no clue—”

              “Are you fucking kidding me? You expect me to believe that? You’re a fucking dog. A total fucking asshole.”

              “I really do like the scarf. And the dress, too. You should’ve left the tit out. You’ve got great tits, you know.”

              “I do NOT want to talk about my tits!”

              “That’s certainly not the tune you were singing last night.”

              “Do you realize how not funny this is? What a complete disaster this is? OUR PARENTS ARE GETTING MARRIED. That means we’re going to be brother and sister.”

              “Step brother and sister. There’s a difference, darling.”

              “That incest! It’s so wrong on so many levels!”

              He shrugs, looks completely nonplussed. “Not really. We’re not related by blood. Were we to have children, chances are, they’d be totally normal, and actually, quite gorgeous. And . . . we’re not technically stepsiblings yet anyway. They haven’t gotten married. We’ve got two whole weeks to fuck each other’s brains out without an ounce of guilt because we’re stepsiblings. I’m the sort of person who likes to think of the glass as half full. And that means, instead of freaking out because of this bizarre coincidence that the universe has thrown our way, I am going to be glad because I’ve met someone that I can have mind blowing sex with. That’s pretty fucking great, I think. Wouldn’t you agree?”

              I roll my eyes. “Oh yeah. Oh yeah, that’s totally great when that person happens to be someone in your family. Do you just not care? You don’t think there’s anything wrong with what we did?”

              “Wrong? Absolutely not. It was phenomenal. Well, until the very end, that is. Wait—did you know? Is that why you turned into a raging bitch right before you left?”

              “What? No I didn’t know! Do you honestly think I’d know something like that and then go and have sex with you? I can’t believe this. I can’t believe that you didn’t really know this from the beginning. Was Megan in on this? Am I getting punked or something?”

              Jai holds his hands up. “I swear, Emma, I am as surprised about this as you are. Yeah, my dad mentioned that I’d be getting two stepsisters in this deal, but it never crossed my mind that you’d be one of them. I mean—why would it? It’s not like we really talked about any of this stuff last night. You know, being so busy doing other things.”

              He brings his hand up and starts to touch my hip but I slap his arm away.

              “Don’t touch me!”

              He looks at me intensely. “You know you want me to.” His voice is low, a cross between a whisper and a growl. “You know you’d like nothing more than for me to take you right here, rip that tiny fucking dress off of you, and fuck you senseless. You know you want that. And so do I.”

              Something stirs in me, a warm tingling through my lower belly, and everything he’s just said is totally true, but I’d never let him know that. Because it’s so wrong!               “It must be nice to be so goddamned sure of yourself. To be so certain that you know everything, all the time.” I take a step back, trying to put some distance between us. I’m afraid if I don’t, I’m going to jump on him. “All I wanted to say is that we just need to get through the next two weeks. We just need to act normally, okay? No one else needs to know about this.”

              “I really don’t give a toss if people know, or not. They’re not going to care. And if they did care, it would be for about two seconds, and then they’d forget it and go back to worrying about their own problems. People can only be scandalized for so long before they move on to something else. I, for one, am actually quite thrilled that I get to see you again. Which is saying a lot, considering how much of a bitch you were right before you left. And if it wasn’t because you knew that our parents were getting hitched—then what? But really, I think we can move past all that. We can play nice at the lake house. It’s like we’ll be on a very lovely vacation together. It’s a pretty great place.”

              I peek out from behind the column, just in time to see my mother craning her head around, presumably looking for me, since my chair next to her has been empty for some time now.

              “We have to go back out there,” I say. “We can sit at the same table, we can maybe even have a cordial conversation, but under no circumstances are you allowed to bring up ANYTHING that is going to suggest we . . . we . . .”

              “Fucked?”

              “That we knew each other before we met tonight. Because that’s what my mother thinks, I’m sure that’s what your father thinks. And we’re going to just let them keep thinking that, all right?”

              “Whatever you say, darling,” he says.

              “Just behave yourself.”

              I turn and walk back to my seat before he has a chance to respond. I feel like it’s written all over my face, like anyone who even glances my way is going to know exactly what happened between Jai and me, and—worst of all—are going to know how attracted I still feel toward him.

              It’s a truly awful juxtaposition, feeling this intense attraction that is also causing an intense feeling of repulsion. But the repulsion is mostly with myself, not Jai, and the fact that despite knowing we’re about to become stepsiblings, and despite the fact that he’s married—I scan the room for a possible wife, but don’t see her—I still find him so fucking hot.

              “Where’s your food?” my mother asks. “Please don’t tell me you’re on one of those diets where all you drink is flavored water. I know someone who did that, she lasted about a week and lost almost ten pounds, but then she fainted and ended up chipping her front tooth when she hit the corner of the counter. Not worth it.” She eyes me. “If it’s because you feel like you’re not fitting into your dress, well, that’s because that dress is about five sizes too small. Don’t be ashamed to buy clothing in your own size, Emma. It’s nothing to be ashamed of. In fact—”

              I feel someone touch my shoulder. I look, and Jai is there, and he’s got a plate of food and a wine glass, which he places in front of me.

              “You forgot your plate,” he says. As he straightens back up, he pauses by my ear and whispers, “And don’t worry—I didn’t roofie the drink. But I can if you’d like.”

              “Oh, Jai, that’s so kind of you,” Mom gushes. “Emma, isn’t your stepbrother just the sweetest? Such a gentleman. They really do raise them differently over in England. You’re such a doll, Jai, thank you.” Mom beams at him, completely oblivious to what he just whispered.