BoyFrenemy: Enemies to Lovers, Step-Brother Romance Page 4
Mom was passed out on the couch again when I slipped inside, so I walked past her snoring, prone figure and went to my room. My safe place.
I stashed away my granola bars and opened a library book, delving into a world full of magic, adventure, and no drunk, neglectful moms.
- 8 -
Hunter
What the hell was I thinking?
I was on my way, in the dark, to some stupid ass party that I had no desire to go to.
Why?
Because my idiotic ex-best friend decided she needed cock and would do something so dumb as go to some Goddamn stranger’s house to go ‘hang out’ and ‘surf’ even though the girl hadn’t gotten on a board in years.
“You sure this is right?” I grouched, but she just scowled at me in the shadowy light of the streetlamps above our heads.
“Google is telling me where to go, asshole. You know, you didn’t have to come. In fact, Kai kind of asked you not to come.”
“‘Cause he thinks you’re an easy target,” I grumbled.
“Uh, I kind of am. Like, I’ll go do that whole one night stand thing right now. Not like it would be my first.”
I gulped, but tried not to let the way my heart picked up its pace reflect on my expression.
Me.
She was talking about me.
About us.
Like the true sadist I was, I lifted an eyebrow at her.
“You have a lot of one night stands?”
She narrowed her eyes on me with distinct and bitter hate, but didn’t bother saying anything else until we arrived at some shack in the middle of fucking palm tree central.
“Hey! Ivory!” Kai shouted out from a gate that led to the backyard of the bungalow.
Ivy grinned at him and picked up her pace, leaving me in her proverbial dust.
Despite what she obviously thought, I wasn’t looking for pussy. I wanted to make sure the dumb bitch didn’t get raped or something.
Sure enough, there was a cozy fire blazing in the warm backyard, built up in a massive fire pit, the flames reaching something like six feet in the air.
“I’m glad you came!” Kai said to Ivy, ignoring me completely.
He might have ignored me, but the ladies at the party didn’t. There was something about my hair and clothes and the little loop of steel in my lip that made girls watch when I walked by.
Giving my left t-shirt sleeve another roll, I found one singular spot across the fire from Ivy and sat my ass down.
Initiate the fawning.
Girls giggled and guys scowled at me, but I didn’t give a shit one way or the other.
I was there for Ivy.
Beers were passed around, but I avoided them. Ivy, I noticed, didn’t. She took one from Kai, and I watched that fucker for any sign of a roofie. What a way to spend the first evening of my mom’s honeymoon vacation.
Oh my God. What a fucking nightmare.
“I’m Ophelia,” one girl said, getting right up in my face with her fake tan, gaudy makeup, and giant tits hanging out of a bikini two sizes too small.
“Hunter,” I said back, because I wasn’t a complete asshole.
Just mostly an asshole.
“You surf? The guys are going out later to catch some waves without all the peds hanging out.”
Peds?
Like, pedestrians? Beachmongers?
“Nah,” I shook my head, lying through my teeth.
I’d been surfing since I was fourteen; since Dad got himself put in jail. Never could afford a sport or hobby like that before. Once Dad stopped drinking away all our money, and since Mom had inherited our house from her parents, we had some cash to actually do fun things. Not much, but enough.
“Then you can hang out with us girls on the beach,” she said suggestively, leaning over until those tits were touching my arm.
“I have a girlfriend,” I said point blank.
Another lie, but I wasn’t in the mood to deal with overly flirtatious girls.
Kai took Ivy’s beer toward the house, so I popped up and followed.
One could never be too careful.
I watched him toss the beer bottle in the trash, then reach into a massive box and grab another.
He hadn’t opened it yet, so it was still safe.
“Thanks for inviting us,” I told him, making him look up at me with a raised eyebrow.
“That’s Hawaiin hospitality for you,” he said, popping the top off the warm beer. “Friendly even if the other person isn’t friendly back.”
I shrugged off the comment and looked around the inside of the house.
There was a big, older man in the living room, watching some motorcycle show in an old Lay-Z-Boy recliner.
The place actually looked like a family home, not some kind of frat house.
“Sorry, that wasn’t necessary,” Kai said with a frown. “I think maybe we got off on the wrong foot.”
Well fuck me. Maybe the guy wasn’t so bad, after all.
I didn’t remove all doubt that he had nefarious plans for my Ivy, but I could ease up a little and give the kid a break.
“Yeah, I think so,” I agreed, sticking out my hand to him.
He looked at it, then smiled and took it in a firm shake.
“Just don’t fuck up my sis, huh?” I asked, the word ‘sis’ feeling hella weird on my tongue.
“I just want to get to know her,” he said with a shrug and an innocent expression that I was actually starting to believe was real.
“Yeah, sure,” I said, taking the beer out of his hand with a smirk before leaving back out to the bonfire.
“Let’s go!” someone shouted all of a sudden. “It’s dark enough! Tide is in, so we’ll get some gentle waves.”
I was glad to hear they weren’t looking for a thrilling wave after dark. Night surfing was incredible, but could also be dangerous if you didn’t keep a steady head on your shoulders. Nobody looked drunk, and honestly, as long as Ivy didn’t get in the water, I didn’t really care what the others did.
A chorus of agreements went up and people started moving out of the yard, Kai and another guy dumping sand on the fire to douse it before we left.
How responsible of them.
Beers were left behind, exchanged for boards and some box LED lights, and the group of us walked a half mile down to the beach.
“It’s beautiful at night,” Ivy said, just an arm’s length away from me.
I turned to answer her, but she was talking to Kai, who was smiling at her.
“I love surfing at night,” he told her. “It’s magical.”
Yeah, it was. I found myself on the water at night a lot, just to get away from the crowds and to enjoy some peace.
After my tumultuous childhood, I took tranquility in any form I could get it and latched on. Being on the water after tide was one of those things where you could get lost in hollow nothingness.
“You gonna surf?” Kai asked me a minute later as everyone started stripping down.
Everyone but me.
I shrugged. “I don’t have a board.”
“You can use mine,” he offered.
“Nah, I don’t want to take away your magic,” I teased, but I smiled with it, too.
Kai smiled back, but didn’t offer again.
I’d stick close to Ivy, even though the water called to me.
I flicked my flip flops off my feet and sank my toes into the white sand, indulging my senses in the salt and earth smell of the ocean.
“Not going out?” came Ivy’s voice next to me.
I opened my eyes and drew myself back from my happy place.
Aw shit.
She’d lost the cover up dress she’d worn to the party and was down to that delicious little bikini that had gifted me just a hint of a peek at her nipple earlier.
They were pink, in case anyone was wondering.
I’d eaten her cunt and been inside her, but I still never saw her breasts, which I regretted ever since that night we fucked everyt
hing up in Hillary’s basement closet.
Trying not to stare at her chest, I turned back toward the ocean.
“Nah. I’ll watch tonight.”
“I’ve never known you to be the watching type,” she said with a cute little snort.
I let a smile tip the sides of my lips.
She must have been at least a little drunk, because she was actually, sort of, being nice to me.
“Not usually, no,” I agreed. “But someone’s gotta watch your ass.”
With another snort, she pointed an accusing finger at me. “Not you! You’re my new brother!”
A new brother that she fucked only a couple years ago.
Had it really been so long? I could still recall with great detail every single thing about her body and the breathy little sounds she made with my head buried between her legs.
“Brother,” I scoffed. “I’ll never be your brother, Ivy.”
“Legally, you are. So get used to it, buster. Dad and your mom are expecting us to sing ‘kumbaya’ and ‘ninety-nine bottles of pop on the wall’ all the way home.”
I let out a laugh at that.
What were we, fourteen?
No, at fourteen Dad was getting hauled away in the back of a police car on domestic abuse charges.
“You saying you want a big brother?” I asked her.
“Aren’t you already? You’ve already cockblocked me twice and threatened the guy who’s interested in me.”
“Twice?” I demanded, but she was already moving on with her list of complaints.
“You are snarky and try to tell me what to do. You bust my balls and try to get all angsty and annoying. You’ve been my big brother for a long time.”
Except when I was balls deep in her.
Damn, why did I wear a condom? I never got to feel what it was like bareback.
Oh yeah, because we were seventeen and eighteen, and neither of us wanted a baby.
It’s the little details that get you.
“I’ve always been that way. You’re the one who always complained and cried and whined when she didn’t get what she wanted. Needy, demanding, frustrating as all hell, were some of your best traits, just to name a few.”
Ivy looked at me for a second, face totally deadpan, and for a second I thought I’d offended her. I was really good at offending her.
But no, her mouth split in a grin, pink lips parting to show her naturally perfect teeth. No braces for that girl. Nature blessed her with perfection, and I kind of hated nature for it. Ivy was really fucking hard to resist.
Just ask her Hawaiin surfer dude, and he’d back me up.
“Whatever,” she said, whacking me across the shoulder before spreading her arms out and closing her eyes in a wide stretch.
I tried valiantly not to stare at her boobs. Honestly, I did.
When her arms fell back to her sides, the side of her hand brushed mine, which sent a jolt of lightning through my palm and fingers, zinging straight into my chest.
She jerked her hand back, then smiled as if it was normal to react that way when accidentally touching someone, then took a couple steps forward to splash her feet into the shallows.
We still had that all-consuming attraction, Ivy and I. It had always been there, even when we were kids.
Ivy was the first girl I ever wanted to kiss, and she remained the only girl I wanted to kiss. Which was one of the biggest problems when she tore my heart out of my chest and smashed it to the ground.
Even still, she owned it, and I despised the fact. I hadn’t loved another girl since, and I was really fucking scared that I would never love a girl again. I drowned myself in tits and pussy until I felt suffocated, but nothing ever worked. Good girls, bad girls, smart girls and party girls. Nerds, rockers, hipsters, you name it. I tried them all and nothing could get the taste of Ivy out of my mouth, or her smile out of my head. She was branded there, dwelling on me like a scar I would never get rid of, no matter how hard I tried.
“The water is still so warm,” she said absently.
Evidently, she was still in a talkative mood.
I didn’t really mind. I might have egged her on and drove her bonkers every chance I could manage, but every time I got a word or a look, I clutched onto it like a desperate wretch, grasping futilely with filthy, grubby fingers for anything she was willing to give me.
“It will be for a few more hours,” I told her absently, watching her against the silvery glow of the full moon.
God, she was beautiful.
I practically jumped out of my skin when the beach was flooded with intense light. Those big LED lights the guys had carried over were suddenly switched on, and we were caught in the glare.
“Ready?” Kai called, holding his board that was strapped to his ankle as he jogged toward Ivy.
“I’m not getting in, but I want to watch you,” she told him, her voice dipping into that delicious, flirty tone she used with guys other than me.
I fucking hated it.
Grinding my teeth while they flirted and the asshole pulled her closer to him, I had to turn away. I couldn’t watch her with other men, but I’d have to get used to it.
The only way I’d survived the past years without her was by shoving her way the hell away from me, so I didn’t have to be stuck staring at her happy with everyone but me. We’d fallen apart like a perfect disaster, and we were never able to put the pieces back together. Not as kids, and definitely not now that we were technically step-siblings.
Was it weird to be lusting after a step-sibling?
Probably, but hey, I had Ivy long before Mom had Richard Bell.
- 9 -
Hunter
Ten Years Ago
I could hardly manage a smile for Ivy when she snuck into my room that night.
We were ten and eleven years old, but it didn’t seem like the whole sleeping in the same bed thing was going to end anytime soon.
Not that I minded at all. I liked having her there. She smelled like strawberries and green apples, and her hands always smelled like paper and the wood and lead of her coloring pencils. That girl was addicted to them. I mean, I knew why she was. With a shitty mom like she had, I would've had to dive into a distraction, too. Ivy chose coloring and story books. She’d devoured everything in the kids section of our library already, and she'd recently started to sort through the teen stuff. Ivy would tell me about a book she read once in a while, going on about the pretty, magical world, or about how the hero and heroine kissed.
I would always make gaggy noises when she mentioned kissing, but that was just to cover up the curiosity I’d always had about what it would be like to kiss her.
Mom was already in bed, since it was past midnight, but I hadn’t been able to sleep. Dad had come home early from work at the power plant and he’d wailed on Mom. I’d tried to get in the way, just to stop him from hitting her, but all it had earned me was a backhand to the face.
I’d asked Mom only once why we stayed with Dad even though he hit her. Mom’s simple answer was, ‘because I love him’. Didn’t seem like he loved her much if he was hitting on her. He only hurt her where it didn’t show, though. A bruised rib, a slap on the back of the head where her hair would cover the mark. Dad was smart about it, and Mom never had to explain to anyone why she was hurting. She’d just put a smile on and pretend like it never happened.
But it did.
At least once a month, Dad would come home in a rage. Maybe his favorite sports team had lost the game, or a co-worker was an asshole. Once he was passed over for a position at his job and he’d hurt Mom so bad, she had to call in sick to work the next day.
I couldn’t stand it.
Mom would always send me to my room when she saw that crazy shine of rage in his eyes, and she’d stash me away so that I didn’t get beat, too. But I didn’t listen to her tonight, and now I sported a split lip and a black eye that I’d have to explain to my teacher in the morning.
“What happened to you?” Ivy asked, sn
uggling into my side.
I pulled her closer, breathing her in and savoring her soft warmth. She was pure comfort, just like she’d always been growing up.
“Dad’s an asshole,” I said simply.
She just wriggled next to me in response.
“Why are you cussing?”
I just shrugged.
“Why not?” I was trying it out, and honestly, it felt pretty nice to be able to do something grown up while I was still waiting for my stupid body to hit a big growth spurt.
Ivy was quiet for a while longer.
“Dad isn’t coming home tonight,” she whispered. “Mom’s out with her friends.”
I wished that I had the strength to throttle them both. Dad and her mom were horrible people, and Ivy deserved better than that. That was why I didn’t mind sharing my own mom with her.
“Just go to sleep,” I told her.
What else could I say? I couldn’t change it, but I could certainly make it just a little bit better by hugging her tonight while she was sleeping.
Ivy just looked at me, then leaned forward and pressed very gentle lips to the cut on my eye.
“You always kiss my boo-boos,” she told me. “Someone should kiss yours.”
We didn’t say anything else. It didn't take long for Ivy to fall asleep. My throat was swollen though, and I was so far from sleep. I could still feel the soft, heated wetness of her lips on my skin, and that made me so…
Hell, I didn’t even know what it made me. It made me happy, I supposed. I liked kissing her boo-boos, because it had always made her smile. But she was right. Nobody ever kissed mine now that I wasn’t a little kid anymore. I’d grown out of Mom’s kisses, even though, secretly, I still wanted them. I didn’t even care if that made me a sissy little baby. Kisses were magic and made you feel better when you were hurt. That was why I really wanted to try kissing Ivy. But not on her cuts and scrapes. No, I wanted to kiss her right on the lips.
I leaned my head forward a little, now that she was asleep, just to peck my mouth against hers really quick, but I totally chickened out and just kissed her forehead instead, same as I had a million other times.