Stepbrother JEEZ! (The Stepbrother Romance Series - Book #4) Read online

  STEPBROTHER JEEZ!

  The Stepbrother Romance Series Book #4

  BAD BOY FRAT

  By Claire Adams

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are products of the writer's imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2015 Claire Adams

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  Chapter One

  I had thought all during the holiday week that everything would get better once I got back to school; I could forget the whole horrific mess of Jaxon being my step-brother, of my mom walking in on me and him together, the whole messy, screwed up situation. I believed that once I got back to school, everything would go back to normal. I’d hoped.

  But once I got back onto campus and pulled into my usual spot in the student lot, I realized that it wasn’t going to get any better. It was probably going to get worse. I’d told Jaxon that I didn’t want to have anything to do with him, I’d freaked out—but I couldn’t exactly feel guilty about that. I think anyone in my position would have reacted the same way. But just because I had told him I didn’t want to have anything to do with him anymore, it didn’t mean I had suddenly lost all feelings for him. I knew better than that.

  The whole time I’d been driving from his dad’s house back to campus I’d been thinking about him; stupid songs on the stereo made me think about the messed up situation. Even if I turned off the stereo, I still thought about him. About the way he and his dad had fought, about the way it felt being with him, the sight of my mom standing in the doorway with complete shock on her face, the way she’d refused to talk about the situation. I thought about the first time Jaxon and I had been together, and every time since then. I thought about how much I wanted to have sex with him again—and how disgusted I was at the fact that I could actually think about that.

  Jaxon was such a big part of my life before the stupid mess with our parents happened; even before we’d had sex, he walked me to classes, hung out with me, tutored me, and we were on the same team, training and practicing together. As I unpacked all my dirty laundry to wash it in the dorms, the only way out of the situation I could think of was to completely end my social life with the frat until I’d somehow managed to get over Jaxon—however long that would take. I knew from the holiday that I couldn’t let myself be alone with him for more than a few minutes without one of us making a move—the tryst by the pool was proof of that. I couldn’t trust him to go away rather than act on impulse; I couldn’t even trust myself. If Jaxon showed up at my door it would have been impossible for me to make him go away. So the only solution was to stay away from him myself.

  I couldn’t even imagine what could be worse: being Jaxon’s sister or living completely without him. Knowing that we’d be spending the rest of the time we were brother and sister lusting after each other bothered the hell out of me; I didn’t even need Bob’s judgment that it was disgusting to know that there was something really wrong with being attracted to your brother—even a stepbrother. It was just flat-out wrong.

  The worst part of it all was that there was no one I could even talk to about it. I obviously couldn’t talk to Jaxon about it, since we couldn’t be alone together without jumping each other’s bones. I couldn’t talk to my mom about it. She was weirded out enough that it had happened in the first place; she would never be able to understand the situation from my perspective. I couldn’t talk to anyone in the frat about it because I was damn sure not going to be that girl who caught feelings for her new stepbrother, and it would make everything weird with everyone else in the frat. I couldn’t even talk to anyone in any of my classes or the dorms about it; I definitely didn’t want rumors to start about me, or about Jaxon.

  So there I was, stuck in a situation that I couldn’t really deal with but I couldn’t really talk to anyone about either. I would just have to keep my distance from Jaxon, and from the whole frat; I was actually worried that if I let myself be around those guys at all, it would all come tumbling out of me. One minute I’d be chatting about the scores to a game—and the next I’d be telling someone everything about the whole stupid, fucked-up mess. It would be better for everyone if I just kept my mouth shut and kept to myself for a while. If I could just pretend like everything was okay, eventually that would be the truth.

  As everyone else started coming back from their holidays, I stayed in the dorms. I dug into the treasure trove of dorm-friendly food that I kept around when I got hungry: cereal, canned ravioli, ramen, and other things like that. I told myself that a few days of eating that way wouldn’t kill me; after all, they were the staples of anyone’s emergency food.

  I couldn’t help but miss the food at Bob’s place—Thanksgiving had been awkward, but at least the meal itself had been tasty even if my stomach hadn’t been up to digesting it. I could have gone down to the dining hall, but I really didn’t want to run into anyone; I needed a couple of days to myself to get Jaxon out of my head, if it was possible. At least, even if I couldn’t, I needed some space. And if I went to the dining hall, I was sure I’d be invited over to the frat house, or I’d run into someone from the team, and there’d be nothing I could do to avoid everything I wanted to get out of my head.

  I wasn’t able to deal with being lazy in the dorms than I was at Bob’s house. I finally decided that if I was going to lose my mind in the process it wouldn’t even be worth it, so I went to the gym. I made sure to go in the off-hours, when there’d be next to no one there; I put on my headphones and got into my baggiest, slouchiest workout gear, and did everything I could to blend in. By the time I got there, there were maybe two members of the basketball team hard at work, perfectly willing to ignore me.

  I warmed up on the stationary bike, pedaling at medium resistance until my heart rate was up, and moved to some of the cross-training exercises that we’d been practicing: jumps, lunges, squats, and a few upper body moves, along with some core training, until every muscle in my body was burning—not exhausted, but at least well worked. I was dripping with sweat when I got onto the treadmill, but it felt so good to actually do something, to feel my blood pumping in my veins and my heart pounding in my chest, that I stayed on for the full twenty minutes, running for fifteen and then walking the last five.

  It didn’t solve any of my real problems; I was still as stuck on Jaxon as ever, and my head was still full of everything that had happened between us, but it had given me at least a little bit of a break from the four walls of my dorm room, the drone of the TV, and reading everything my friends were posting online over and over again until I thought I would go crazy. I went back to the dorms and hit the shower and crawled into bed still feeling upset, but finally too tired to care.

  When classes started up again, I still wasn’t ready to face anyone—in spite of the texts and calls I got from the guys at the frat. I knew Jaxon
wouldn’t have told any of them anything about what had happened between us; he was probably just as fucked up about it as I was. Plus, the guys in the frat weren’t the kind of people to talk to about it. I could possibly be safe hanging out with them, but then I would almost certainly run into Jaxon. And if Jaxon and I were avoiding each other, then someone would definitely notice it. And then the questions would start. It would be impossible for none of it to come out—something would get around the group. Either that I’d had sex with Jaxon or that Jaxon was now my brother, someone would figure something out and I’d have to deal with everyone talking about it.

  So the night before classes started I decided that I wasn’t even going to think about anyone from the frat, any of my old friends. I was going to just be a hermit for a little while longer; go to class, come straight back to the dorms, get my meals to go from the dining hall. None of my roommates really liked hanging out with me, and I didn’t really enjoy the kinds of things they wanted to do—so that at least wouldn’t be a problem. I would just figure my shit out and then get back to whoever was still around. If anyone asked about it to my face I’d just tell them that I had a lot of homework and studying to do, that I was just taking a break for a while. My grades could only benefit from it, after all. The last thing I wanted was to start having arguments with my mom about my classes after everything else we’d been through.

  I was so desperate to get over the incredibly shitty mess that I almost considered going to the school shrink. I knew he sucked; one of my roommates had gone to him for her generalized anxiety disorder and he was terrible at helping her. But I thought, if there was anyone on campus I could possibly talk to about it, it might be that guy. I decided against it when I realized that he’d probably think lusting after my new stepbrother was a sign of some kind of mental instability. It definitely occurred to me to think that if he did think that he’d probably be right—what kind of mentally ill person went after their sibling? But I kept telling myself, over and over again, that it couldn’t be that weird. That I’d been into Jaxon well before I’d even known he was my stepbrother. The fact that I’d kept going for him—even though I knew it was weird, even though I knew that it made everyone else uncomfortable—was just because I couldn’t get over him.

  But if I could just stay away from him, if I could make myself stay away from the frat and Jaxon, I could get over him. I’d gotten over other guys plenty of times. I just needed time and space and I’d get out there again and find some other guy and Jaxon could just be my stepbrother. Everyone could be happy. But the idea of Jaxon being my brother still made my stomach turn flip-flops inside of me. I couldn’t stand the thought of someone being my brother who’d seen me naked, who I’d had sex with. It was horrifying. I couldn’t stand how much it hurt my mom to find out, but even though I knew I should be disgusted—and even when I was—I couldn’t stop myself from remembering how hot Jaxon was, how good he’d felt inside of me. I knew it would take time, and I couldn’t see any way out of it, but I hated every moment of it, and it didn’t seem to get any easier.

  Chapter Two

  The first day of classes, I hurried out of the dorms and kept my eyes straight in front of me. I left for my early class with just enough time to grab something from the dining hall—coffee and a banana, a granola bar for when my stomach started growling halfway through. I was in and out in less than a minute, and on my way to the building. I was glad that only a few of the people I knew from the frat bothered taking early-morning classes—or any class that met before lunch, for that matter. I knew I should probably at least answer the texts that the guys were sending me, but I just couldn’t make myself do it. I couldn’t pretend that everything was great and fine and I was the same person I’d ever been; not yet anyway.

  I got to class with time to spare and thought about where I wanted to sit. Normally I was in the middle—the few people I knew usually sat there, and we could talk a little bit when it was time to work on the assignments the professor gave us. But some of the other guys I knew always, without fail, sat in the back. I picked a desk off to the side and almost at the back, where no one ever sits, close to the AC and heating vents. It was never a comfortable place to sit—you either froze or burned up—but at least I could count on not being bothered there.

  Halfway through class I had to wonder why I’d even bothered. I was taking notes, I was doing my best to listen to the lecture, but my brain kept replaying the holiday. I couldn’t seem to stop myself from thinking about Jaxon and me having sex, or Mom walking in on us, or the horrible fight that Jaxon had had with his dad at the lodge. Even trying to think about how good the snowboarding had been brought back memories I’d rather have forgotten: Jaxon and me on the slopes alone together, talking and comparing strategies, giving each other tips, getting closer and closer. Or, even worse, how horrible it had really been after Mom had walked in on us and yet still insisted on having “family day” out on the slopes.

  It was obvious to me that the only way to deal with the situation was to avoid Jaxon at all costs, which meant avoiding all of his friends, even if they were my friends too. I didn’t want to give up the team, but if things got really bad, that might be what I had to do. I’d have to accept that my mom and Jaxon’s dad had screwed up both of our lives even if they hadn’t meant to. I’d have to just deal with it. But it was so hard to make myself think the things that would help me move on.

  I couldn’t think about my Biology class without thinking about Jaxon. Even when I’d been walking to class, I’d remembered him meeting me on my way from the dorms, chatting me up and flirting with me while he walked me to whichever class I was going to. Biology made me think of Jaxon tutoring me. Every class I was taking had some kind of memory linked to Jaxon in my head. I hated it. I wanted to cry, but if I went around crying, everyone would notice and someone would get to the bottom of it; on top of which, it would absolutely ruin my reputation with the guys I hung out with. I’d just be another girl, crying over some guy.

  So as soon as my classes were over for the morning I hurried back to the dorms, telling myself not to even think about Jaxon running into me accidentally-on-purpose. The less I could think of Jaxon the better off I would be, but the more I tried to forget him and not think about him at all, the more I found myself dwelling on him. Was he having the same problem? I couldn’t know. I knew that he obviously hadn’t gotten over me when he’d pushed me away the first time. If he had, we wouldn’t have ended up in my bed; we wouldn’t have ended up screwing on a lounge chair by the pool at Bob’s house. We would have been able to keep up the ruse of not knowing each other at all and pretending to get to know each other.

  But I couldn’t imagine a guy like Jaxon being all torn and upset by what had happened—not the way I was. I mean, Jaxon had girls throwing themselves at him constantly. He’d been practically making out with some girl, dancing with her at the Phi Kappa party when I’d confronted him the first time. It wasn’t like he didn’t have plenty of opportunities to move on. And I couldn’t make myself believe that the guys at the frat weren’t partying it up from the time they got back from the holidays. That was just the kind of guys they were; they took any excuse they could to party. I’d gotten texts from them complaining about how incredibly boring it was at home with their families—until things had really blown up with Jaxon I’d even laughed at them and told them to enjoy the rest from the constant party life.

  I got back to the dorms as quickly as I could and that was my strategy. I would leave as close to the time for my classes as possible and go straight there and straight back. If I had to get food from the dining hall, I’d get it to go and bring it to my room. I thought about spending some time in the library—they had private study rooms where I could be completely by myself and no one would even know I was—but the private rooms were almost always spoken for before classes even started for the day.

  Everyone who knew me knew that something was up; even when I’d been avoiding Jaxon, I’d managed to make
it over to the frat, to hang out with the guys who I’d been friends with far longer than Jaxon. I’d hit the courts, I’d gone out and done things. I got texts from everyone inviting me to come watch the game and have a couple of beers, or to come play a pickup game, or to hit the gym. Yo, Mia, what’s going on? Mia, grab dinner with us. Yo—they’re doing a BBQ down by the volleyball court, you in? I’d te;; the guys I’d really spent time with that I didn’t feel like going anywhere or doing anything; it wasn’t really an excuse and I knew they could see through it, but it was better than the nothing I had for everyone else.

  I just didn’t have the time or the energy to try and make things right with anyone. As classes started up, the first few days back, everyone got back into their usual schedule except for me. Yo, you sick or something? Do we need to get you to the campus nurse? What’s going on? As I made my way to and from classes every day, hurrying to get there, keeping my gaze on the ground in front of me so I couldn’t even see people, doing my best to be as invisible as possible, the thought that plagued me was: Next thing you know, I’m going to find out I’m related to Jeremy. Or Mike. Or Alex. I kept waiting to get a phone call from my mom telling me that I had some new family member. It was a stupid thought, but it had taken me so much by surprise to know that Jaxon and I were related that I couldn’t get it out of my head.

  It got worse by the day; at first it was just texts and phone calls, but inevitably my strategy of avoiding everyone I knew other than my roommates started to fall apart. Rushing to class, someone would call out my name—one of the guys from the frat, one of the guys I played ball with, one of the members of the team. I made myself pretend like I didn’t hear them; I breezed past and didn’t look up. It was easier with headphones on, but then I risked literally running into someone—with my eyes on the ground and my ears full of music, it made it harder to avoid people instead of easier. Once or twice my friends actually tried to grab me—my hand, my arm—but I pretended not to even notice, and just kept moving forward.