BoyFrenemy: Enemies to Lovers, Step-Brother Romance Read online

  BoyFrenemy

  Copyright © 2020 by L. L. Ash

  All rights reserved.

  Disclaimer:

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  - Preface -

  Ivory

  Three Years Ago

  His hot breath on my cheek, sputtering from kiss-swollen lips just made me pant even harder.

  “Fucking hell,” he gasped, hips battering into mine in the dark closet of my best friend’s basement.

  Seven minutes in heaven had turned into something a little more than…uh…seven minutes.

  We'd ignored every attempt to get us out and the subsequent catcalls that followed until we were just left alone to our erotic fairy-tale that wouldn't last past midnight.

  It had started as angry, frantic kisses, then light petting, then I was smothering my face in a puffy winter coat while he ate me out with that cocky smirk on his face. He knew damn well what he was doing, and I both loved and hated him for it.

  Now I was naked from the waist down, with a high heel under my back and buried into my ribs. My head banged on the wall with every thrust and huff of effort grunting from his lips.

  But I didn’t care.

  I wanted him, and for the first time ever, he wanted me, too.

  With a strangled little growl, he quietly finished inside the condom that he 'so happened' to have on him. Then again, what eighteen year old boy didn’t have a condom with them at all times?

  In the quiet stillness of the dark closet, I tried catching my breath and digging the shoe out from underneath me while he pulled out and started buckling up his pants again.

  “Thanks babe,” he said, voice hoarse, but like silk to my ears.

  I know what his orgasm voice sounds like now.

  I grinned at the thought, then felt around for my panties, laying somewhere on the closet floor.

  He stood and helped me up, then pressed a fierce kiss to my lips.

  “What now?” I asked, elated that we were actually having contact instead of the regular cat and mouse game we’d played for years.

  “Nothing.”

  Just like that, pantyless and baffled, I stood there while he slipped out of the closet and left me there.

  Hunter Hayes had dipped in and shipped out, leaving me with dampness between my legs and a broken, bleeding heart.

  Again.

  - 1 -

  Ivory

  If I bit my lip any harder, I’d make a hole and would have a brand new place to put a lip ring. Not that I wanted one. They reminded me too much of him.

  Instead of giving myself an inadvertent piercing, I started chewing on the inside of my cheek until I could taste the sweet and briny flavor of blood on my tongue.

  “I can’t wait until you come home, honey,” Dad said to me over the phone. “I’ve been seeing someone. I really like her, and I want us to all have dinner together while you’re home.”

  I grimaced at the idea of Dad dating.

  Mom had divorced Dad more than five years ago. He’d just recently gotten back into the dating game when, all of a sudden, he was dating this mysterious woman who he fell instantly in love with.

  Was it weird to remind my dad that he shouldn’t fall in love with the first woman he dates? That seemed like the kind of advice that he should give to me.

  Looking around my little shitty dorm room, I gave a wide grin to remind myself that, no matter who the woman was, I was an adult now, and I had my entire future ahead of me. I could endure some holiday dinners with any woman he chose, as long as she made Dad happy.

  “I wouldn’t want it any other way, Dad. Of course I want to meet her.”

  He sighed with relief.

  “We planned it around the end of the semester. Her son will be there, too.

  “That’s nice,” I said absently, not interested in this new woman or her son. Hopefully the guy wasn’t a complete asshole.

  “Oh! Pen’s calling. I’ll let you know as soon as we’ve cemented our plans. Love you, hun!”

  “Love you too, Dad,” I said, but he cut me off halfway through to switch to the new love of his life.

  Blinking down at the phone, I frowned.

  New love of his life.

  All through high school, it’d just been Dad and I. Through boyfriends and breakups, proms and winter formals, Dad was right there as my right hand man while I managed to wade through it all. Now it was his turn, and I couldn’t help but feel a little...left out.

  I wasn't his number one girl anymore.

  “Finally,” my roommate growled, staring at her Ipad. “Next time, take your phone calls outside.”

  “This is my room, too,” I reminded her.

  God, I really hoped I got a new roommate next year.

  “The year’s almost over. Pretty sure you can deal with a couple calls until we don’t have to see each other again,” I told her, opening my American Economics textbook to go over today’s chapters.

  I hated the course almost as much as I hated my roommate.

  She just lifted her hand to me and stuck up her middle finger as she popped gum over her own thick textbook.

  Yeah, the feeling was mutual.

  Not feeling like doing homework at all, I shut the book a little too loudly, just to piss off my roomie, then slipped my flip flops on while texting Hillary to meet me at the beach.

  “You’re going to have a brother?” Hillary asked while we sipped iced coffees on our favorite bench in Palisades Park.

  It wasn’t as busy as Santa Monica Pier and it gave us the calming sound of the ocean without the bustle of tourists and beach bums.

  “Is he hot?”

  I shrugged.

  “I don’t know. Never met the guy. He’s probably a total geek. Or worse, a beef head.”

  “There are worse things than a beef head to look at across the Sunday dinner table for the rest of your life.” My friend laughed, as if the situation was so fucking funny.

  She tossed her bleach blond hair and it shimmered with whites and golds in the mid-afternoon light. And for the millionth time, I felt a pang of envy.

  Hillary was everything that I ever wanted to be. She was curvy, blond, big breasted, and she had a smile that could light up a room. Not to mention her personality was a bombshell in and of itself. My bestie was just easy to look at, and easy to love. We’d been friends since freshman year in high school, and started UCLA together last fall.

  “Enough about my new 'maybe' in-law. How’s your roommate?”

  Hillary gagged.

  “I swear. I want to throttle the person who put me with someone other than you. I mean, we get along great! My roommate cooks freaking nasty shit in our room and the smell lingers everywhere. You know what it’s like going to a party smelling like garlic, anchovies, and perfume? Well, I do, now.”

  I giggled.

  “Oh, shut the hell up. All you have is some idiot who hates it when you talk. She doesn’t stain your clothes with permanent funk!”

  “Next year,” I told her. “I know the person who helps sort rooms now, so I’ll try and pull a couple strings with her. She thinks my hair is awesome.”

  Hillary pouted.

  “Your hair is pretty awesome. I keep thinking I want to do something else with mine. You give me so much inspiration!”

  I touched the magenta and cobalt stripes in my dark hair and smiled at her.

  “Your hair is too perfect to mess it up with box dye. I’d kill you if you messed with that work
of art.”

  She just blushed like the awesome person she was and stuffed a clump of the shiny strands behind her ear.

  “Any call from Jason?”

  I shrugged.

  “Nope. I think one date was enough for both of us. It was an epic disaster. You know that.”

  “Well, yeah but he’s been so into you. Maybe it’s because finals are around the corner. I’m sure you’ll hear from him over summer break.”

  “Maybe. What about your Greek cutie?”

  Hillary’s blush got darker as she grinned.

  “I talked to him yesterday after our dance class. He’s so freaking cute, Ivy! Like, the dark curls and his olive skin… God, I just want to lick him!”

  “Oh my God!” I laughed, pressing my hand over my mouth when a nasty snort echoed out. “Lick? You want to lick the guy?”

  “Hey, if you saw him, you would want to lick him, too,” she countered, that adorable pout back on her face.

  “Whatever. I don’t like my guys delicious; I like them hot.”

  “Oh, I know, Ivory. You like them like Hunter Hayes.”

  She rolled her eyes while I shot her a glare.

  “We do not mention the name of that asshole unless we’re in the process of cursing him.”

  Another eye roll.

  “Ooo! Speak of the devil! Is that him?” she sounded way too excited.

  My head shot around and my eyes immediately found him.

  Just up ahead, I could see him on the beach with his buddies, wearing nothing but board shorts that were riding low on narrow hips while they played around with their surfboards.

  “Welp, I’m done here,” I told Hillary.

  “He’s such a jerk,” she agreed, standing with me so we could throw out our empty cups. “Why don't you just give him a piece of your mind and get it over with? This whole avoiding him on campus has gotten out of hand. The guy is freaking everywhere.”

  “‘Cause he’s a total manwhore that really gets around,” I ground out between clenched teeth. “And no. I have no intention of ever talking to him again for the rest of my life. My time is too precious to waste it on him.”

  Hillary sighed and just followed me back to our cars.

  “I’ve gotta get back. Thanks for meeting me for a drink,” she said, looking at the time on her phone.

  “Always. But I was the one to call you, remember?”

  She shrugged.

  “Same difference.”

  I just let myself smile a little before hugging my bestie and soaking in her sunshine a bit before going back to my depressing dorm room.

  “Remember,” Hillary sang as she sank into the driver’s seat of her pink Volkswagen Bug. “Hate makes you ugly and bitter!”

  “So does Hayes!” I called back, and she laughed before shutting her door.

  Yeah, just thinking about stupid Hunter Hayes made my blood boil, even two years after ‘The Big Mistake’. Twenty minutes in a dark closet with the asshole had turned me from a blossoming romantic to a bitter teen. One day, one mistake, was all it took for life to lose a little bit of its shine.

  Shoving all thoughts of the jerk out of my head, I got back into my truck and started back to campus while Hillary went back to her job at Sephora.

  Yeah, she was so cool that she got a job like that.

  Slipping my sunglasses on, I wondered briefly if maybe I could get away with a moment of insanity of just driving over the dropoff and crashing into Hunter and his cronies. Not enough to really hurt anyone, but just to ruin their day like he’d ruined so many of mine.

  No. I’d likely get a ticket at the least, or maybe jail time. That wouldn’t look good on my record while I was trying to get into psychology and family therapy. I’d just have to get over it and move the fuck on.

  Forgiveness wasn’t for the other person, it was only ever for ourselves.

  - 2 -

  Ivory

  Thirteen Years Ago

  “Ivy?”

  It was him. It was always him.

  “What, Hunt?” I asked, frowning over my bologna sandwich.

  “Wanna trade?” he asked.

  He was holding out his deviled egg sandwich, which was my absolute favorite.

  It was his favorite, too.

  Mom didn’t really care what I ate for lunch, and rarely got around to making me anything. Dad had managed to throw a sandwich together for me with what we had left in the fridge and stuck it in my backpack with a bruised banana for my lunch.

  “Yeah,” I told him, holding out the mangled Wonder bread and pink lunch meat.

  I hated bologna, not that Mom cared. She bought it because it was cheap and easy. Hunter’s Mom actually cared about him, so he got what he liked every day for lunch, unlike me.

  “Hand it over,” Hunter said, wiggling his fingers.

  His hand was bigger than I remembered. He had just reached a growth spurt over the summer and Dad said he was going to be tall as a tree by the time we were grown up.

  I gave it to him and he slapped the homemade bread with mayonnaise and eggs into my hands. It smelled like butt, but tasted awesome because his mom used Miracle Whip in it instead of just plain ol’ mayo.

  “Thanks,” I told him.

  He just smiled at me, then sat down next to me to open up the plastic baggie, taking a massive bite of the sandwich.

  I was more careful with my sandwich, and I savored each bite of the stinky, delicious concoction.

  “You see the new kid?” Hunter asked after a while, pointing to the new girl sitting by herself.

  I nodded.

  “They moved in next door to us. Mom says they’re from Missouri.”

  “Where’s that?” I asked, scrunching up my nose.

  He shrugged.

  “Dunno.”

  We ate the rest of our food in quiet companionship.

  Yeah, Hunter and I had a lot in common.

  He had a terrible dad, and I had a dud for a mom. We would hide at each other’s places sometimes, when our parents would argue. Mom hated it, because she hated Hunter’s mom so much, but I didn’t really care. Mom would always shove it aside and drink, or go on a shopping spree until she felt better.

  “You think we should say ‘hi’ to her?” I asked eventually, licking off any last remnants of sandwich filling from my fingers. “I was lonely when I moved in. I bet she’s lonely, too.”

  Hunter frowned a little, but eventually he nodded and started getting up from the sticky cafeteria table.

  Together we went to talk to the new girl, my hands a little greasy from my lunch, but it was a nice feeling to be full of good food.

  “Hi,” I said immediately when we made it to her table. “I’m Ivory Bell. Hunt calls me Ivy though, ‘cause he’s a dumb boy and he can’t say my name right.”

  Hunter elbowed me in the side and I grunted, but grinned. He didn’t like being called a dumb boy, that’s why I did it.

  “I’m your neighbor,” Hunter said. “And Ivy has cooties.”

  The girl just stared at us like we were aliens coming down to take her away.

  After a long bet of silence, I waved, then turned and went back to the table I usually shared with Hunter.

  “I don’t think she likes us,” I told him.

  “She just didn’t like you,” was his response.

  I glared at him for a second, then we busted up laughing.

  - 3 -

  Ivory

  Pulling my bag from the back of my old Ford pickup, I dragged it to the door and reached to open it up.

  Dad’s familiar laugh made me smile as I closed the door behind me.

  “I’m home!” I called.

  Dad peeked around the corner with his phone to his ear and grinned.

  “Ivory!” he called, hurrying over to take me into his big arms and pull me into his chest like he always has. “I missed you!”

  I squeezed him back and basked in the warmth and familiar comfort his hugs always gave me.

  “Missed you to
o, Dad.”

  “Hey, Pen, I gotta let you go. Ivory just got home.”

  With a sappy goodbye, he hung up and dragged me over to the couch.

  “So? Tell me about it!” Dad insisted, leaning his elbows on his thighs as he grinned at me. “My college girl. What’s the year been like so far?”

  “Fine,” I told him. “I’m just glad that I had Hillary there with me. My roommate was a bust, but I’m sure next year will be better.”

  “Well, we’ve got a lot of plans for the summer,” Dad told me. “Pen and I were thinking about taking you guys to the water park, or maybe a trip down to San Diego.”

  With the new girlfriend?

  “Want some soda?”

  “Uh, sure,” I agreed, wiggling further into my favorite spot on the couch.

  I would legit cry if Dad ever replaced my favorite couch.

  Dad came back to the living room with some sodas and a bag of chips, dropping them all on the coffee table in front of me.

  “So, bad roommate, fun with Hillary; what else are you up to? I hardly get you on the phone even once a week anymore, and I feel like I know nothing about your college life.”

  I gave dad a long look.

  “I don’t have a boyfriend, Dad. Don’t worry. Put away the shotgun.”

  “Hey, I didn’t ask about boys,” he defended himself. “I just wanted to know about your life. And you know I don’t have a shotgun.”

  He gave shifty eyes and grinned.

  “Yet.”

  I belly laughed and grabbed the orange Fanta.

  “So, you’re trying to give me a new mom?” I asked Dad, trying to bring us around to the whole Dad’s dating thing.

  His ears pinkened a little in the second blush I ever saw on my dad’s face. The only ever time I saw him embarrassed was when he gave me the period ‘talk’ that should have come from my shitty mom.

  A knock on the door startled me a little, but I watched Dad gulp as he stood to go answer the door.

  When a feminine voice filtered past the little entry and into the living room, I stumbled to my feet and ran to the door, too.