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Authors: Penelope Ward

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BOOK: Stepbrother Dearest
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“What the fuck, Greta? Why did you run from me like that?”

“I just need to go back to my room.”

“Not like this.”

Without thinking, I pressed the stop button.

“What are you doing?”

“This isn’t how I wanted our night to end. I crossed a line. I know that. I got lost in the moment with

you, and I’m so fucking sorry. But it wasn’t going to go any further because I won’t cheat on Chelsea. I
couldn’t do that to her.”

“I’m not as strong as you are, then. You can’t dance with me like that, look at me like that, touch me

like that if we can’t do anything about it. And for the record, I wouldn’t want you to cheat on her!”

“What do you want?”

“I don’t want you to say one thing and act in a way that contradicts it. We don’t have much time left

together. I want you to talk to me. That night at the wake…you wrapped your hand around my neck. It felt
like for a moment you were back in that place where we left off. That’s sort of how I feel around you all of
the time. Then, later that night, Chelsea told me what happened after you got home.”

What was she talking about?

“Exactly what did she tell you?”

“Were you thinking about me? Is that why you couldn’t perform that night?”

The fuck?

I had no words. The fact that Chelsea told Greta about that private moment actually pissed me off. I

was speechless.

“I want you to tell me the truth,” she said.

She couldn’t handle the truth, and I couldn’t handle these feelings for her. But I was pissed that they’d
been talking like that behind my back. On top of that, my whole life felt like it had been turned inside out
in one night.

So, I lost it.

“You want the truth? I was fucking my girlfriend and could see nothing but you. That’s the truth.” I

moved toward her predatorily, and she backed away. “I got into the shower that night, and the only way I
could finish the job was to imagine coming all over your beautiful neck. That’s the truth.”

It should have stopped there.

Instead, I locked my arms around her as she leaned her back against the wall. I kept going. “You want

more? I was going to ask her to marry me tonight at her sister’s wedding. I was supposed to be engaged

right at this very moment, but instead, I’m in an elevator fighting the urge to back you up against this
wall and fuck you so hard that I’ll have to carry you back to your room.”

My chest hurt. I dropped my arms. “Everything I thought I knew has been turned upside down in the

past 48 hours. I’m questioning everything, and I don’t fucking know what to do. That’s. The. Truth.”

I released the stop button because any more time in here would have been detrimental, although being

brutally honest for once felt like a huge weight had lifted off of my chest.

When we got to our floor, we both went back to our separate rooms.

Alone in bed, guilt started to really set in and prevented me from sleeping.

I was torturing myself by going through my pictures of Chelsea again.

She didn’t deserve this.

I’d tossed and turned, alternating between thoughts of Randy, guilt over Chelsea and my personal

favorite: carnal thoughts of Greta. If I didn’t care about hurting Chelsea, I would have gone to Greta’s
room that night. I knew with all of our pent-up frustration, it would have been the best sex of my life. But I
wasn’t a cheater, and I wouldn’t go there. So, I let my imagination experience it.

At one point, the sexual fantasies had gotten so vivid, I tried to undo my sins with a text to Chelsea at
2 A.M.

I love you.

Immediately after, I sent a text to Greta.

If I knock on your door tonight, don’t let me in.

***

The cab was approaching my destination, so I thought that was as good a point as any to stop the story

since I was going to have to greet my friends soon. It was painful to put it down.

I paid the driver and stuck my kindle in my purse. As I made my way inside Club Underground, the

contrast of the darkness and bright lights caused a feeling of unreality. My head had been stuck in Elec’s

story all day, and it almost felt strange venturing into the real world. It started to make me feel a little panicky with a bit of vertigo, which I got from time to time.

My nervous state improved as soon as I saw two of my coworkers, Bobbie and Jennifer, who greeted

me as I entered the private room. A small bar was lit up in purple lighting, and I immediately booked it over there for a vodka soda.

I took a sip. “Is the guest of honor here yet?”

“No sign of Hetty yet,” Jennifer said.

Since Hetty wasn’t even here yet, I excused myself to go to the bathroom where I promptly picked my

kindle up again. Don’t judge.

***

I still consider it a miracle that I made it through that night without fucking up. Greta ended up

texting me that she was having insomnia. I immediately called her, and we talked until she fell asleep

sometime after 4 A.M. I stayed on the phone listening to the sound of her breathing.

The ride home the next morning was downright painful. A chainsaw wouldn’t have been enough to cut

the tension in the air.

Greta was going to be driving me to the airport. We ended up stopping at her mother’s house first.

Being back in the place where everything started was harder than I thought it would be.

Greta had served me some of her homemade ice cream. It was nostalgic sharing it with her out of the

same bowl. For some reason, out of everything we’d experienced during our little adventure, that moment

had meant the most to me and felt like goodbye all at once.

***

I had to put my kindle down when Hetty walked into the bathroom. She must have thought I was

pathetic.

“There you are. We’ve all been looking for you!”

“Oh, I lost track of time. You hadn’t arrived yet, so I came in here to chill for a bit before the party

started.” I hugged her. “Happy birthday, sweetie.”

“Thanks. You were reading?”

“Yeah.” I laughed and waved my hand dismissively. “You know how it is when you start a book you

can’t put down.”

“Is it smut?”

I had to think about it. “Not really.”

“Right. Okay, well, come on! Almost everyone’s here now.”

I followed her back out into the club and immediately ran to the bar for another vodka soda. Vowing to

not pick up the book for at least an hour, I worked the room and found myself looking at people’s faces but

not really hearing what they were saying. Their mouths were moving, but my brain wasn’t processing it; my

mind was still with Elec.

As soon as my self-imposed hour was up, I snuck back into the bathroom. My friends were probably

going to think I was doing lines of coke, but I needed to finish the book since I only had a small percentage left. That way, I could get through the remainder of the night with no preoccupation.

I took a deep breath.

***

Greta wouldn’t make eye contact on the ride to the airport. All of the special moments we’d shared,

and she couldn’t even stand to look at my face now. That was what it all came down to, and I couldn’t say
I blamed her.

I was breaking apart at the seams and didn’t know what to say to her. We’d practically been to Heaven

and Hell and back together over the past twenty-four hours and now, I was simply leaving her…again.

When we exited the car at the curb, the wind was wild. It was almost like a scene out of a movie. This

would have been the sad part where you’d cue the dramatic music.

The thunderous sound of the planes taking off made it even more difficult to articulate what I wanted

to say. What do you say to someone you’re abandoning for the second time?

She held onto herself and was looking everywhere but at my face.

Finally, I said, “Look at me.”

Greta shook her head repeatedly, and a tear fell down her cheek.

It was official now. I was the scum of the Earth.

My own eyes started watering because I couldn’t take away the pain she was feeling, because I

couldn’t do the one thing that would have achieved that: staying.

She was waving me off. “It’s okay. Go. Please. Text me if you want. It’s just…I can’t do a long

goodbye…not with you.”

She was right. This wasn’t going to end well, so why prolong it?

“Okay.”

She startled me when she leaned in and gave me a quick kiss on the cheek. She rushed back to the car

and slammed the door before I could even process it.

The remnants of her saliva were stinging my cheek as I walked into the airport in a daze.

I wanted to look at her one last time, so I turned around. Big mistake. Through the glass, I saw that

her head was on the steering wheel. I immediately ran back outside to the car and knocked on the window.

She refused to look up and started the engine, so I knocked harder. She finally turned to me and got out,
wiping her tears. “Did you forget something?”

Before I knew it, my mouth was on hers. My heart was doing the thinking at this point. I wouldn’t open

my lips because I’d convinced myself that this was innocent so long as I couldn’t taste her. It was a firm,
desperate kiss, and I didn’t even know what it meant.

I felt empty and confused.

She ended it. “Get out of here. You’re gonna miss your flight.”

My hands were still on her cheeks. “I never got over hurting you the first time, but hurting you twice…

believe me when I say this was the last thing I ever wanted to see happen in my lifetime.”

“Why did you come back just now?”

“I turned around and saw you crying. What kind of a heartless asshole would leave you like that?”

“Well, you weren’t supposed to see that. You really should have kept walking because now you’re

making it worse.”

“I didn’t want that to be my last visual.”

“If you really love her, you shouldn’t have kissed me,” she yelled.

“I do love her.” It came out really defensively. I looked up at the sky because I needed to think for a

second.

How would I explain the realization I had on the dance floor last night?

“You want to know the truth? I fucking love you, too. I don’t think I realized how much until I saw you

again.”

“You love us both? That’s messed up, Elec.”

“You’ve always told me you wanted honesty. I just gave it to you. I’m sorry if the truth is a fucked up

mess.”

“Well, she has the home court advantage. You’ll forget about me again soon enough. That will

simplify things.”

She was getting back in the car.

“Greta…don’t leave like this.”

“I’m not the one leaving.”

Ouch.

She drove off and left me at the curb, which was fitting because I’d unintentionally kicked her to the

same place…twice, actually.

I was really tempted to jump in a cab and follow her. But I got on that plane back to California

because for once in my life, I needed to do the
right thing.

***

My finger kept pressing the next page button hoping there was more to the story. He couldn’t have

possibly put me through all of that just to end it right where we left things.

When he sent me the manuscript, he said it wasn’t finished. It was probable that he didn’t feel I needed

to know anything more than what involved me. Since the rest of his life would involve
her
, there was no need to torture me with more. I got it now, and I appreciated that. He wanted me to understand what he was

feeling all of that time so he could have some closure and move on.

Well, good for him.

I took out my phone and sent him a text that sounded cordial despite my anger.

I finished. Thank you. That was an amazing ride. I’m honored you asked me to read it. The history of

your family blew me away and explained so much. I’m sorry you had to go through all of that. I

understand so much more now and also why you ended it where you did.

Fuck.

I was crying and had to go back out to my friends.

Devastated, I was determined that the rest of the night would be about forgetting him once and for all.

“Help me drown my sorrows,”
I remember him saying to me at the casino. Well, that was what I needed right now.

My friends were on the dance floor and cheered when they spotted me. They pulled me in, and we

danced together for at least an hour. The more I thought about Elec, the harder and faster I swayed my hips

and shook my head around to the point where my hair must have looked like I’d gotten electrocuted.

Getting lost in the music, I didn’t want to stop long enough to feel all of the painful emotions that his words had caused. I certainly didn’t want to accept that the character of Greta Hansen had now been written out of his life.

A half-hour later, my phone buzzed.

What’s your theory on why I ended it where I did?

BOOK: Stepbrother Dearest
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