Stepbrother Soldier: A Forbidden Military Romance Novel (22 page)

3

Mark and Mom went to Aruba for their honeymoon. Cliché, I know, but my
mother had never even been out of the country, and she’d certainly never gotten
the chance to spend a whole week of relaxation away from kids and work. She
still called every night, because she was still a mom even after getting
re-married and starting a new life.

It was just me and Jay in Mark’s big, empty house for the week they
were gone. And, to be honest, it was really just more like me by myself. Jay
stayed in the guesthouse near the pool and rarely ever came in the house. I
would only see him occasionally in passing.

It was the beginning of summer, and as someone who’d never had their
own pool, the prospect of being able to go swimming whenever I wanted was
enticing. I spent a lot of that week tanning and swimming, either by myself or
with a couple of friends. My girlfriends were floored by Mark’s house and my
newfound opulence. I was still getting used to it, myself. Mark even had a maid
who came a few times a week and cleaned the whole house, including my
room!
 

Jay went swimming once per day, always at the same exact time. At 8:00
am I would hear a splash outside my window and knew that Jay was swimming laps.
I found myself, more than once, creeping to my window and looking down. Part of
it was sheer curiosity about him, a desire to know more about my new
stepbrother. He wouldn’t talk to me, but I tried to learn more about him from
watching him swim.

Another part of it, a much smaller but still very real part, was that
I liked seeing his long, lean, muscled torso cutting through the water. I liked
seeing him bare-chested and glistening in the early morning sunlight. I didn’t
like to admit this to myself, but I knew it was happening. After all, he was
still very handsome, and even more handsome when he took his shirt off. His
ripped arms and well-defined back were too hard to resist gazing at.

It’s okay, he’s not my real brother, and I’m just
looking. That’s what girls do when they seem something they like, right? This
is totally normal…
I’d think to myself
as I watched him in the pool. Sometimes I would feel a slight tingling in my
pants, but I ignored it. I’d never been a very sexual person; guys just didn’t
really seem to do anything for me. Not that girls did, either. I just didn’t
get what the big deal about sex was.

But I did feel different when I watched Jay in the pool. A little more
alive inside. A little more excited than a normal morning. Again, I did my best
to ignore anything out of the ordinary.

There was one day when I saw more of Jay (not literally!). I was
hanging out with two of my friends by the pool, just drinking soda and gossiping,
when Jay suddenly emerged from the guest house in his swimming trunks. I hadn’t
heard or seen him swimming that morning, but I’d just assumed that he’d taken
the day off, or had gone out earlier and I’d missed it.

My girlfriends’ jaws dropped to the floor when they saw him, and I had
to admit I had my own little shock reaction. I’d never seen his body up-close
before. It was even more fine than it looked from far away, every ab muscle
defined, his shoulders broad and masculine. He glared at me as he walked past
us, throwing his towel to the side and entering the pool wordlessly.

“Oh my god…Elizabeth,
that’s
your
stepbrother?” One of my friends said in a loud whisper. I nodded.

“You didn’t tell us he was such a hunk!” my other friend said, barely
keeping her voice down. I shushed her, not wanting Jay to hear my friends go
gaga over him.

“Yeah, but he’s a grade-A jerk. He ignores me completely and thinks
Mom is after Mark’s money, which is a huge load of shit,” I said back, aware of
the edge in my voice. I couldn’t keep my eyes off him as he swam laps, though,
no matter how much I wanted to ignore him entirely.

“Jerk or no jerk, he could swim in my pool
any
time,” my friend said through a giggle. I rolled my eyes.

“You can have him, Dina, trust me, I don’t want him,” I said, picking
up a magazine that I had been reading earlier and pretending to be interested
in my horoscope. I couldn’t resist, though, and I found myself watching Jay
over the top of the pages. Finally, he finished up and emerged from the pool,
his muscles bulging as he lifted himself out. He grabbed his towel and walked
past us again, back to the guesthouse.

This, time, though, I noticed that he didn’t glare at me. Instead, he
seemed to actually be examining me. I suddenly felt exposed in my bikini, which
tied around my hips and showed off my full, luscious figure. His eyes traveled
from my toes to my hips to my chest to my face, where his eyes met mine and we
both looked away quickly. He continued on and we heard the door to the
guesthouse slamming closed. It was only then that I realized I hadn’t been
breathing, and sighed deeply.

“WHAT was THAT!” Dina nearly shrieked in my ear. “He was TOTALLY
checking you OUT!”

“Shhh! Oh my god, you guys are so embarrassing! He wasn’t! He hates
me,” I said, blushing fire-engine red. Dina rolled her eyes and made a silly
face at me.

“Whatever, Elizabath. Just don’t be surprised if you hear your bedroom
door creaking in the middle of the night…and don’t you DARE keep any of the
details from us!”

I slapped her playfully and we all laughed, but deep inside I found
myself wondering if she was right….

When Mark and Mom came home, they were loaded with souvenirs and
stories. They wanted to go out to dinner, all four of us, and I happily obliged.
Jay, it seemed, needed some convincing. Mark disappeared for almost an hour in
the guesthouse talking to his son, who clearly still wanted no part in either
my mother or me. Eventually, though, they both emerged, Jay looking dour and
unhappy. Mark didn’t look like he was in much better spirits, either.

We piled into the car and set off to the restaurant, Mom and Mark
chatting it up in the front seat while Jay and I sat silently in the back. I
could feel resentment almost baking off of his body. I wished he didn’t hate us
so much, but I also felt that if he was going to be childish there wasn’t much
I could do about it.

The dinner that night was fairly uneventful, but it was also fairly
awkward. Mom did her best to make conversation with Jay, but he would only give
short, terse, noncommittal answers. I tried to make up for his lack of
enthusiasm by being overly interested in the conversation, but the void was
palpable. I almost wanted to punch Jay for making my mother feel uncomfortable
on what was supposed to be a happy homecoming.

There is one thing I will say about Jay: he didn’t say anything that
would make my mother feel the way he’d made me feel at the wedding. If he was
still convinced that my mother was after Mark’s money, at least he kept it to
himself. I had that to be thankful for, anyway.

Finally, the evening wound to a close. That’s when Jay said the first
interesting thing he’d said all night.

“So, Jay, how long do you think you’ll be around? When does school
start back up again for you?” Mom asked, all smiles.

“It doesn’t,” Jay said back, neutral. “I’m taking
a year off to work on my own writing.”

Everyone looked at him in surprise. No one, not even Mark, it seemed,
had known about this. It was news to us all.

“Really? I didn’t know that, son,” Mark said, a hint of suspicion in
his voice. “Will you be travelling?”

“No. I was thinking I would stay here. I can get an apartment in the
area, maybe pick up a few courses at the local college to bring in some extra
income while I work.”

“Oh, no, don’t be silly! You know you can use the guesthouse as long
as you need to, Jay. We’d love to have you around,” my mother said
gregariously.

“I know I can. It’s my house,” Jay said, a slight bite to his words.
Mark gave him a look and Jay sighed. “But thank you. No, I think I will be more
comfortable living on my own.”

“What college are you thinking of?” I blurted out. I only asked
because there was only one local college, and it was the college that I would
be going to in the fall. I would live in the dorms there, but it was less than
an hour’s drive from Mark’s house. I was worried about running into Jay on
campus or worse…having him as a professor. I resolved to make sure that I
didn’t register for any English courses my first semester.

“There’s only one local college, Elizabeth,” Jay said, mimicking my
own thoughts. I blushed and looked down at my empty plate.

“Oh well, that would be fun! Wouldn’t that be fun, Elizabeth? You and
Jay can get coffee on campus sometimes!” God bless my mother and her undying
hope. I smiled and nodded, doing my best to hide my dismay.

“Well, I hope it all works out for you, Jay,” Mark said, his voice
doubtful but resigned. My heart went out to him.

“It will,” was Jay’s only response, and the end of the conversation.
We all sat around in an awkward silence until the waiter came around with the
bill. Then, we had the amazing opportunity to carry that awkward silence us to
the car and on the entire drive home.

Believe it or not, that awkward silence lasted pretty much the rest of
the summer. Not between Mark and Mom and me, of course, but with Jay. The very
few times he could be coaxed into spending family
time,
it was like pulling teeth getting him to talk. Every morning I still watched hi
swim laps, but for the rest of the day he was like a ghost haunting the
guesthouse.

When we did spend time together, he spent most of it giving me the
side-eye, like he didn’t trust me. He was even worse with my mother, who never
stopped trying to make nice with him. To tell the truth, that was the worst
part of all. The fact that he didn’t seem to care at all about returning the
kindness my mother showed him. It made me hate him. Like really, really hate
him. I’ve never thought of myself as a hateful person, but I hated Jay.

Yet, I still found myself staring at him from my window every morning.
I told myself that it was just a habit, that it just happened to be that Jay
went swimming every morning at the same time that I liked to enjoy my coffee
and look out the window. But, of course, I wasn’t really fooling myself. The
fact was, the fifteen minutes or so every day that I got to admire his toned,
hot body was the only time that I
didn’t
hate
him.

This was only re-enforced by the increasing interest with which my
body responded to the visual of Jay slicing through the water. As a decidedly
inexperienced, un-sexual virgin, it was sort of scary for me, the way my body
thrilled whenever he came out of the guest house in his tight swimming trunks.
I’d find dampness in my panties afterwards, or realize with shame that my
nipples were erect.

I never, ever acted on those feelings in any way: I never touched
myself or explored my body. But I was aware of them, and I knew what they
meant. But I was extraordinarily good at ignoring all those little warning
signs. I was so good at ignoring them, in fact, that I took measures to ensure
that I could continue to ignore them.

If I didn’t wear panties to bed, I didn’t have to change them after
watching Jay swim. If I cranked the AC up in my room, I didn’t have to notice
my erect nipples. I did everything I could to have my cake and eat it too: I
could admire Jay from afar without ever having to admit that I was admiring him
at all.
 

And, if we’re telling the whole story, I knew I wasn’t the only one
who was doing some admiring. Although it always made me feel a little bit
dirty, I would sometimes be thrilled to see that Jay was looking at me intently
while I sunned myself in my bikini or came down for dinner in short-shorts and
a tank top.

Of course, he wasn’t around that often, but whenever we were forced to
spend any sort of time together I would find him staring at me at least once.
When he looked at me those times, his expression was far-off and different, not
at all like the angry, distrustful looks he usually gave me.

It always made me blush, though deep down I wondered what he was
thinking when he stared at my ass or breasts. I’d push those thoughts away, but
sometimes, late at night, as I lay in bed listening to the house creak and
moan, I’d think about his eyes in those moments. How they seemed hungry, almost
like hands touching me….

4

As the summer came to a close, I was getting more and more excited
about starting school. I was nervous, too, but mostly excited. I spent the last
month before classes planning my schedule, buying dorm room accessories, and
chatting with other soon-to-be-freshman on Facebook. When it came time to
register for classes, I realized with some disappointment that I would have to
take an English class, after all. I’d tested out of Composition 101, but I need
to take Composition 201.

Scanning the list of professors, I breathed a sigh of relief when I
didn’t see Jay’s name anywhere. I picked a class pretty much at random because
it fit best into the rest of my schedule.
Maybe
he changed his mind and doesn’t want to teach at a public university,
I
thought to myself, hoping that it was true. I didn’t like the idea of seeing
him on campus. Hell, I didn’t even like the idea of knowing he was on campus.

When it finally came time for me to move into the dorms and start
classes, Mom and I were both blubbering messes, even though I could drive home
and visit almost whenever I wanted to. I’d never even gone to sleepaway camp,
so going out on my own and living by myself was going to be intense. Mark was
patient, but eventually he had to drag my mother away and I was left to my own
devices.

I met my roommate as I was decorating my side of the dorm with all the
girly posters and fun things I’d bought over the summer. We hit it off
immediately, and I felt my homesickness slowly fade away. More and more people
began piling into the dorm and would stop by our room to say hi. There were so
many new names and faces to remember, so many personalities to guess at, that
before I knew it I wasn’t even thinking about how much I’d miss home.

Classes started with a rush of notebooks and textbooks and thesis
papers and group projects and new, intense expectations that made high school
seem like kindergarten. I wasn’t afraid, though: I’d always been such a good
student, there was no reason to worry that I’d lose that in college. Besides, I
doubted that I’d become one of those party girls.

And I was right: halfway through the semester, my grades were stellar
and I’d mostly stayed away from the five-dollar, all-you-can-drink, rowdy frat
parties that my roommate and other friends lived for. I went to a few, but it
really wasn’t my scene. I preferred quiet nights in, watching Netflix with my
friends over bowls of microwave popcorn and late-night Ramen noodles.

I always made sure, when we went out, to take care of the girls and
make sure they didn’t drink too much and stray away with some random guy.
Everyone teased me about being a virgin and a prude, but I just wasn’t
interested in waking up in a stranger’s bed every Saturday morning, which is
what a lot of my friends did all year.

My English class was great. Professor Tyler was a young, married woman
who really cared about her students and wanted us all to succeed. I was already
a good writer, but I was starting to feel really prepared for what the rest of
college would throw at me, academic-wise. That is, until the unthinkable
happened.

“Class, I have some sad news,” Professor Tyler said one day before
class began. “This isn’t easy for me, but, unfortunately, I will have to leave
you guys next week. I have a family emergency that needs immediate attention,
and I don’t know how long it will keep me. Everything will be the same, my
replacement will follow my curriculum, but I will no longer be teaching you.
I’ve hand-selected the professor who will replace me, though, and I assure you
he will be as dedicated as I am.”

The class engaged in a collective groan of sadness. We all loved
Professor Tyler and were sad to see her go.

“Now, now, let’s not get dramatic. On to our discussion of
The Tempest,
” she said, not wanting to
drag out the scene. The mood in the class over the next week was decidedly sad,
but there was also a lot of buzz about who our new professor would be. Would he
be stricter than her? Would he try to get to know us this late in the semester?
Could we get away with things that Professor Tyler let us?

On the last day with Professor Tyler, we all chipped in and brought in
a cake and soda to send her off. Some of us were actually in tears; that first
semester of college can really bind you to people. It’s your first time away
from home, and your professors can seem like your personal guides to adulthood.
Well, some professors, anyway.

There was a lot of hugging and crying at the end of class that day,
but by the time the next class was set to begin we were all squirming in our
seats waiting to see who our new professor would be. The door swung open right
at 1:15, when class was supposed to start. We turned to catch a look at the man
who would replace Professor Tyler. My heart stopped. My jaw dropped to the
floor. I felt my heart cringing.

It was Jay. Of all the people who could possibly have replaced my
beloved Professor Tyler, it had to be Jay.
Of
course it’s Jay,
I thought to myself,
isn’t
that just how the world works? The one person in the world that I can’t stand
to be around…

Jay moved silently to the front of the class, then turned and looked
around. His eyes skimmed right over me, with no sign of recognition.

“Good afternoon. I’m Professor Samuels, I’ll be your professor for the
remainder of the semester. Now, I understand that Professor Tyler was having
you work on
The Tempest…
” I tuned out
the rest of Jay’s speech. There was no way – NO way – that I was going to call
him “Professor Samuels”. I quickly thought about whether or not it would be
possible to drop or switch classes, but it was way past the drop date and my
scholarship could be affected if I dared to drop. I was stuck. With my evil
stepbrother as my college professor.

I groaned, and didn’t realize until too late that the groan was
audible to everyone, not just me. All eyes turned to me and I blushed, trying
to hide in my seat. Finally, Jay looked at me, eyebrows furrowed.

“Is there a problem Miss….?” Jay was pretending like he didn’t know my
name. I wanted to run out of the classroom at top speed. Instead, I just shook
my head “no”.

“Alright then, moving along. Next class, I would like to see where you
all have taken your papers so far. You should have been working on them
already, so if you haven’t started, now would be a good time. This is for your
own benefit. You’re only hurting yourself if you wait until the last minute…”
Jay continued on in his lecture. I sat and fumed through the rest of the class,
barely registering anything he said. When the clock hit 2:30 and everyone began
to file out of the room, I shot up from my seat and strode to the front of the
class.

“Seriously, Jay? This is…did you know I was in this class? Did you
take it just to torture me? And what’s with pretending you don’t know me?” I
demanded, not ready to take his crap sitting down. He barely looked at me as he
zipped up his briefcase and gathered some papers together.

“You’ll have to start calling me Professor Samuels, Elizabeth. This
has nothing to do with you or your mother. This is just a job for me. And yes,
I saw your name on the roster. But since I don’t give a damn about you or your
gold-digging mom, it didn’t mean a damn thing to me,” he said, finally looking
at me with his briefcase in hand. He started to walk past me and towards the
door.

“She’s not a gold-digger, and if you gave her even a brief chance,
you’d know that,” I spat at him.

“Sorry, my dear, I’m in the habit of calling a spade a spade,” he said
flippantly over his shoulder before disappearing out the classroom door. I
shook with fury. “My dear”? What the hell was that? How could this have
happened? My first semester of college had just gone from perfect to perfectly
awful in the span of a few minutes.