Stepbrother Backstage (The Hawthorne Brothers Book 3) (7 page)

“And so modest,” I mutter, wishing he wouldn’t leave my
side. Any alone time with Finn is hard won. I don’t want to give it up so
easily.

“What can I say?” he shrugs, standing to leave, “I’m a real
catch.”

“Hey,” I say quickly, hurrying to follow as he heads off
through the darkened house, “Are you, uh, doing anything right now?”

“Why?” he asks, looking over his shoulder, “You need me to
buy you booze or something?”

“Ha, ha,” I say, trailing along after him, “No. I’m just
asking because everyone else seems to have disappeared for the night. I was
thinking we could maybe hang out or something? Get to know each other…?”

I trail off as Finn pauses by the front door, looking at me
with a blank expression. My heart sinks as I realize my error. Of course he’s
not actually interested in “getting to know me”. He’s not some bashful country
boy who’s going to drink lemonade on a porch swing with me. I’m just a fun
plaything for him to bat around when he’s bored. Why didn’t I just keep my
goddamn mouth shut?

“Listen,” Finn says, “Don’t take this the wrong way, but the
only reason I agreed to come on this little family vacation was because I
managed to arrange some local shows for my band. That’s my priority, you know?
I’m not here to do any bonding or whatever the fuck.”

“Yeah. No. Totally,” I say quickly, wishing a trap door
would open up under my feet, “I mean…I get it.”

A yellow sweep of light illuminates the darkened foyer as a
car horn cuts through the quiet night. Raucous voices call out Finn’s name,
beckoning him outside. Away from me. Finn turns and opens the front door, and I
follow him out into the warm night. There’s a yellow jeep parked at the end of
the driveway, with at least five people hanging out of it already. I recognize
the driver as the brooding man from The Few music video. The two other band
mates are there, too. As are two gorgeous, voluptuous women wearing very little
clothing. Finn waves to the group and sets off to join them. A sudden, daring
thought springs into my mind.

“Could I come with?” I ask, grabbing hold of the porch
banister as Finn takes the front steps two at a time. “I’d love to see your
band.”

“You want to come…to the show?” he asks, glancing back at
me.

“Yeah,” I confirm, “I’d love to see what you guys are
about.”

“No offense,” Finn replies, “But I don’t think it would be
your scene.”

Just when I thought I couldn’t feel any more like a dumb
little kid.

“Oh,” I manage to say, fingers tightening around the
banister.

“It’s just, the venues we play can be pretty rough,” Finn
elaborates.

“I can handle rough,” I tell him, determined not to be
written off.

“Is that so?” he replies, a grin spreading across his face.

“It’s very much so,” I go on, ignoring the repeated blasts
of the car horn.

“Well…Maybe if you find some way to prove that to me,” Finn
says, turning to go, “I’ll let you come to the next gig. All right?”

“I don’t have anything to prove to you, Hawthorne,” I shoot
back.

“Whatever you say kid,” he shrugs, pulling a pack of smokes
from his back pocket and lighting one up as he walks away from me. “Whatever
you say…”

I stare silently after him as he swings himself up into the
Jeep, subsumed at once by the tangle of bodies already riding there. The band’s
lead singer turns the car’s speakers all the way up, and riotous rock music
blasts across the lawn. One of the women riding in the backseat spots me staring
wistfully after Finn and gives me a sarcastic little wave. I shrink back into
the shadow of the verandah, embarrassed to have been spotted. The Jeep’s engine
roars to life as the vehicle takes off into the night, leaving me very much in
the dust.

With a badly wounded pride, I trudge back into the lake
house. The rest of my housemates have yet to reappear from behind closed doors.
The house echoes emptily as I make my way into the kitchen. The table is still
heaped with plates and leftovers, half-empty bottles of wine and beer. It’s a
complete mess. Much like this entire trip, come to think of it. Resigned, I
roll up my sleeves and start to clean up after everyone.

“What else is new?” I mutter, taking a swig of white wine
straight from the bottle as I set to work.

Chapter Four

For the next couple of days, I make it my miss ion not to
run into Finn Hawthorne. It’s a challenging task, what with living under the
same roof and all, but I have to say—I do a pretty good job. It helps that he’s
usually off with his bandmates or brothers, but on the rare occasions that we
do cross paths, I don’t give him an inch. I’m still smarting from his
dismissal, and enraged at the idea that I should “prove myself” to be tough
enough for him. After everything I’ve survived these past few years, I don’t
need anyone telling me what to do or be. I’m plenty self-sufficient, and
certainly not eager to start relying on some dude’s approval now.

Much to my surprise, Finn actually takes notice of my chilly
treatment of him. I would have thought he’d be oblivious, big shot rocker that
he is, but after a couple days of receiving the cold shoulder, he confronts me
about it. I’m sitting out on the dock, looking across the lake. I’ve got my
earbuds in, and as far as I’m concerned the only sound in the world is Jenny
Lewis’s beautiful voice.

That is, until a shadow falls across my face, and one bud is
plucked from my ear.

“Hey—” I say, annoyed at the interruption. I look up to find
Finn Hawthorne’s gorgeous face looking down at me. For a moment, I almost
forget my decision to ignore him as best I can. Those deep brown eyes are
borderline hypnotic…but I break the spell and look away, glowering in the other
direction.

“Hey kid,” he says, sitting down next to me on the
sun-warmed dock, “What’re you doing out here?”

“Trying to get some alone time,” I tell him pointedly, “If
you hadn’t noticed, that house is a zoo.”

“Is that my cue to leave?” he asks, making no attempts to do
so. I shrug, refusing to meet his eye, and he laughs softly in response. “I
guess I’m still being punished, then.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I lie, trying to
sound nonchalant.

“Right,” Finn replies, giving me a little nudge. “You just
happened
to start ignoring me right after I didn’t let you come to my show the other
night. That’s just a coincidence, yeah?”

“Why do you even care?” I ask him, swinging my gaze his way,
“You made it pretty clear that you weren’t interested in spending time with
me.”

“I never said that,” he replies, his eyes moving down along
my body. I’m wearing a bikini top and jean cut offs, and am suddenly aware of
every inch of bare skin I’m showing. Not that I mind his eyes on me, but…

“Finn,” I say, tucking my knees into my chest, “I know you
think of me as a naive little school girl, but trust me—I’m not into playing
games.”

“Says the girl who’s been icing me out for the past few
days,” he laughs.

“I’m just trying to protect myself a little, here,” I say,
surprised by my own candidness. “If you didn’t make a habit of jerking me
around like a toy, I wouldn’t feel the need to keep my distance. You get me?”

“Sure. I get you,” he says, his eyes locked on mine. And
call me crazy, but I think I actually believe him.

“So…You’ll be straight with me from now on?” I ask,
hopefully despite myself.

“I will if you will,” he replies, his voice low and rich.

“It’s a yes or no question, Hawthorne,” I say, smiling at
his incorrigibility.

“
Yes
,” he says, overemphasizing the word to get a
good laugh out of me, which of course he does. “Yes, I will be straight with
you. Happy?”

“
Happy
may be an overstatement,” I tell him, glancing
back at the house, “You know that tonight is round two of family dinner,
right?”

“I’ll bring the popcorn,” he says, standing to go, “You can
go back to listening to your shitty emo music now.”

“Fuck off—Jenny Lewis is a
goddess
,” I reply,
laughing.

“And you’re insane,” he replies, making tracks for the lake
house, “Good talk, kid!”

“It’s
Annabel
,” I yell after him, but he waves my
protestation away and keeps on going.

I settle back onto the dock, looking across the water with a
whole new perspective. I feel like a huge weight has been lifted from my heart.
It scares me a little, how big an effect Finn Hawthorne can have on my outlook.
Can he really keep his promise not to fuck with my head anymore? And what
happens if he honestly just wants to be my friend, my acquaintance, and nothing
more? Maybe it would be better if he turns out not to be attracted to me at
all. It’s not like anything can happen between us, with our parents
doing…whatever it is they’re doing.

But still, I can’t deny that I want to be wanted by him. If
I’m asking Finn to be straight with me, I may as well be straight with myself
about that.

“I wonder if the Brady Bunch had this much trouble?” I
mutter to myself, lying back on the dock as the sky careens overhead.

***

To everyone’s surprise, dinner actually goes much better
that night. It’s amazing how easy it is to adjust to even the most bizarre
circumstances. Our weird mixed-family vacation has started to feel almost
normal. Or as close to normal as is possible. The six grown kids even linger in
the kitchen for a while afterward, sharing some beers and conversation. I’m
keenly aware of Finn’s presence the whole time, though he barely says a word. I
still find it so strange that he’s basically mute around other people, but so
bombastic with me and his bandmates. What’s the story there?

I set an early alarm for myself when I finally make it up to
bed. Though we’ve been here for the better part of a week, I haven’t had a
chance to check out a sunrise over the lake yet. I decide that tomorrow will be
the morning and try to get some shut eye. I’ve been having trouble sleeping,
knowing that Finn Hawthorne is under the same roof as me. But tonight, he’s off
camping solo. I get the sense that he’s trying to spend as little time hanging
out at the lake house as possible, while still fulfilling his promise to come
in the first place. I can’t exactly fault him for that, now can I?

The sky has only just begun to lighten when my alarm clock
chimes the next morning. Even with Finn off on an adventure, I barely slept a
wink. I lay wide awake, alert to every tiny sound the house and surrounding
woods offered up in the night, hoping that each one was signaling Finn’s
return. I imaged him nudging open my bedroom door, slipping into bed beside me.
The weight of his body, moving over mine. The feel of him, the taste of him…

“Get a grip, Porter,” I whisper to myself, swinging my feet
over the side of the bed. “No one likes a sex fiend, you know.”

I gather up my camera and lenses as quietly as possible,
slipping into a pair of sturdy hiking boots. It’ll be hours before anyone else
wakes up. I pad down the stairs and out onto the back patio, filling my lungs
with huge gulps of air. A cool breeze skims across the lake, making me glad for
the sweater I threw on over my tank and leggings before leaving. Exhilarated, I
take off across the dewy lawn, heading out into the woods.

The lightening sky overhead is obscured by the towering
crowns of trees as I make my way along the forested path. Being out here all
alone, before the rest of the world even wakes up, makes me feel powerful.
Daring. In control of my life and ready to seize what I want with both hands. I
get why people are so enamored with this part of the country. Maybe it’s just
my East Coast side talking, but there is something about being out here that
just makes you feel
free
.

As the woods start to brighten around me with the breaking
day, I pull out my camera and peer through the lens. With every passing second,
more of my surrounding are revealed to me. It’s like discovering another
planet, seeing the woods in this early morning light. I walk on, unafraid,
sweeping my gaze across the path as I go. The shutter clicks like rapid fire as
I take shot after shot, thrilled with the images I’m capturing.

Off the path a bit to my right, I hear a soft splashing
sound. The land must give way to the huge lake just around the bend. The shore
of the lake would be a wonderful place to wait out the sunrise. As carefully as
possible, I start to pick my way through the underbrush, moving quietly so as
not to disturb any plants or animals underfoot. With my camera still raised to
my face, I step around a thicket of trees and fix my sights on the lake’s
shoreline. The sky opens up over the glassy water, and I hurry to adjust my
focus as I take it all in.

As the shot comes into focus with crisp clarity, I feel a
jolt of shock course through my body. Where I expected to find an undisturbed
view of the lake and sky, there is instead a figure at the center of my frame.
A man. He stands waist-deep in the cool lake with his broad, bare back to me.
He’s looking out across the water with his fingers laced behind his head. My
eyes trail from his muscular upraised arms, down his rippling back, all the way
to just above the swell of his sculpted ass—his
naked
sculpted ass.
There’s not a stitch of clothing anywhere on his perfect body. For a moment,
I’m so surprised to find someone out here in the forest that I don’t notice the
sleeves of tattoos, or the signature stance, or the distinct ash blonde of his
hair.

But recognition cocks its fist and wallops me in the gut,
and I realize with a rush that the man standing before me is Finn.

My lungs tighten sharply, and an involuntary gasp escapes my
lips. The small sound may as well be an air horn in the quiet morning. I’m
still looking out through the sight of my camera as Finn turns sharply around
to see who’s there. For the second time, his eyes lock onto my camera, looking
straight through the lens and into the furthest reaches of my soul. But he’s
not the one surprising me by appearing out of nowhere in the middle of the
woods this time. Now the tables are turned. But Finn doesn’t cry out in shock
at the intrusion, the way I did. He barely flinches when he finds me standing
there, my camera trained on his naked body. Instead of getting flustered, or
angry, or embarrassed, he simply holds my gaze.

“You gonna take your shot or what?” he asks, his voice
riding low in his chest.

My eyes are fused to Finn’s gorgeous body. The lake water
laps gently against his tanned skin, caressing the muscular v of his waist. His
sculpted torso and rows of cut abs give way to an enticing trail of dark hair,
drawing my gaze down from his navel. The water obscures the rest of his form.
What I wouldn’t give for the power to part the sea between us right now. I want
to take my shot, all right. But not
of
him. I want to take my shot
with
him.

So mesmerized am I by the sight of Finn that I barely notice
as my camera begins to slip right out of my shaking hands.

“Shit!” I yelp, fumbling with the expensive device and
nearly losing my footing in the process. I take a stumbling step, juggling my
camera as I try to keep from falling on my ass in the mud. And just like that,
with one ungainly screwup, the spell of the moment is broken.

Finn lets out a roar of laughter as I straighten up,
blushing furiously.

“Look at you!” he crows, doubled over in the water. “You’re
so freaked out!”

“Of course I’m freaked out!” I breathe, clutching my camera
to my chest, “I didn’t exactly expect to find…
this
when I set out for my
walk this morning.”

“You should see your face,” Finn goes on, widening his eyes
in mock horror in an imitation of me, “Like a deer in the goddamn headlights.”

“How the hell am
I
the butt of the joke, here?” I
stammer, setting down my camera bag and planting my hands on my hips, “You’re
the one who’s bare-assed in the middle of a lake. At the crack of dawn. Who
does that? Are you tripping or something?”

“No, I’m not ‘tripping’,” he laughs, “I’m just taking a dip.
Camping can be dirty work.”

“You know there are like three showers back at the house,
right?” I point out.

“We’re not at the house, are we?” he smiles, “We’re out
here. All by ourselves. You wanna join me?”

“What? No! Absolutely not,” I say, giving him my knee-jerk
response. But still, a warm rush of need sweeps through me, betraying my better
sense.

“What’s the matter? Haven't you ever been skinny dipping
before?” he presses, taking a small step toward me. The water is only barely
concealing that part of him I’ve caught myself dreaming of so many times. My
entire body is keenly aware of his nakedness. That warm need pulses between my
legs, spreading through my body, and I can feel myself getting wet just at the
thought of being close to him, here and now.

“Sure I have,” I manage to reply, “Just not by myself. At
dawn. In the woods. Are there eels in there? I bet there are eels.”

“This is the only way to do it right,” he cuts me off,
spreading his inked arms wide.

“I’m sure,” I murmur, trying and failing to tear my eyes
from his perfect chest, his impeccable abs. What I wouldn’t give to run my
fingers along those muscular lines. And of course, that other muscle, hidden
just under the water’s surface.

“See for yourself,” he says, his eyes fixed on my face,
“Come in and join me.”

“Yeah, OK,” I laugh nervously, on the edge of losing my
nerve and bolting. I’ve been daydreaming about this moment, wishing that it
would arrive, but never really thinking that it would. And now that the
opportunity is staring me in the face, am I really brave enough to embrace it?
It’s not like I’ve never been with a guy before. I’ve just never been with
anyone I’ve wanted as much as I want Finn. The only attraction I’ve ever known
has been mellow, easy to manage. But what I feel for Finn could very well
overwhelm me.

“Oh, that’s right. I forgot, you don’t have anything to
prove to me,” Finn replies, raising an eyebrow.