Mockingbird (A Stepbrother Romance) (16 page)

"I'm, uh, not."

He smirks. "You learn fast."

Finally I break out in a grin. "Do I now."

I sit up. "She took charge, huh?"

"Yeah," he swallows, his voice tight.

One of the advantages of sleeping naked is waking up naked. He stares at my chest, his hands slowly moving up my sides, until I catch his forearms in my hands and hold him still.

"Did she start on top? Like this?"

"Y-yeah, actually."

"Were you in the champagne room?"

He bursts out laughing and I bounced up and down with the force of it.

"No, we were at her apartment. It's not like TV, Diana. They don't have sex with guys at the club. It's just a job, I swear. I've never met a stripper who did anything more than grind."

"Except the one that took your virginity."

He sighs, obviously exasperated.

"Yeah, she was on top."

"Like this," I murmur again, and move my hips in a circle. His hands move closer to my breasts.

"Yeah, a lot like that." His voice sounds tighter now, like his throat has gone dry.

"She taught you everything?"

"Most of it. She liked to give a lot of, ah, directions."

I smirk at him. "Really. So you picked up the other tricks from other girls, huh?"

"Yeah."

"How many."

"I'm not sure," he says, looking away. "At least… uh…"

"
At least?"

He's actually
blushing
, "I didn't, um, keep count, it's not like…"

"Too many to count?"

I shift off of him and drop on the bed beside him.

"Look…"

I turn away, wrapping my arms over myself. I tense as he rolls up to my back and throws his arm over me, and presses his face in to my hair again.

"I've had sex with a lot of girls. It was a good time, and then it was over."

"Are we having a good time? Is that why you don't want to have sex with me? Because then it's over?"

"No," he sighs. "It's different with you."

"I bet you always say that."

He tenses, and goes quiet.

"No. I've never said that before. I don't use lines. I could walk up to any woman I want and say 'wanna fuck' and they'd follow me someplace private."

"So I'm just an easy target, then. Must be those eyes of yours."

"My eyes are nothing next to yours," he murmurs, and his hand slides up my stomach to cup my breast. He whispers in my ear, his breath hot on my skin, and tickling. My lips twitch. "Brown and green. You have heterochromia. First thing I noticed about you."

"Is that a checkmark on your bucket list? Blonde, brunette, redhead, mismatched eyes…"

His arms tighten around me. "No. It's not like that. I've…" he trails off. "I can't say it without sounding stupid and cliche. I don't know how to say it."

"What?"

"You're different. When I saw you I didn't want anybody else anymore. I don't know if I
can
want anybody else anymore. I don't know what I'm doing. I don't know where this is going. I can't… if I was your first and I had to leave, or I hurt you…" he sighs. "If I hurt you that way I couldn't live with myself. I can't live with myself. I don't belong in this place, with you."

I wriggle a little so he loosens his grip and turn around.

He can't be faking this. The look of anguish on his face makes me wrap my arms around his neck and pull his face to my chest. I pull the sheet up over us and feel his breath tickling the skin between my breasts as his arms tighten around my waist.

"I don't know what's happening," he whispers.

"I don't either. Apollo," I sigh. "I'm not an idiot. What aren't you telling me?"

"Nothing, there's-"

I cut him off. "Why would you have to leave? How would you have to hurt me?"

"I can't…"

I pull back, sit up, and tuck the sheet under my arms, covering myself. I wrap it around
 
my back, too, pulling it off him. He sits up.

"They're getting on a flight soon," he says. "Your mother. My father."

Deep breath.

"I'm going to tell my mother I'm going to a school of my choice," I say, slowly. "I'm going to follow my own path in life. I'm going to be my own person."

"That's good-"

"I'm not finished. When they get back we confront them and tell them the truth."

"Uh-"

"You don't have to tell them everything
in detail
," I sigh. "Look, we stand up to them
together
. We're adults. They can't tell us who we can and can't be with. This is it."

I reach over, pull open the nightstand, and grab it, the box of condoms I bought. I checked the expiration date, just in case. I slap the box against his chest.

"You want me? I'm right here. Pull these sheets off me and fuck me, damn you. I'm sick of being teased. I like you, Apollo. I really like you. I think I'm starting to feel something for you. You know how you said when
 
you look at me… and… I feel that way about you. I never cared about it before. When I'm with you I forget everything.

I drop the sheet, throw my leg over him and straddle him, kneeling, naked, hands on my hips. I thrust out my chest and arch my back.

"Grab me and fuck me. Come on. If we're going to do this, let's do it."

"What if I hurt you?"

"You know what you're doing."

"Not like that. I mean what if-"

"You're hurting me
right now
. Can't you see what you do to me? I want more. I want you inside me. Please."

He looks at me for a good minute. I know how his body feels about the situation, his intentions are very plain and standing straight and hard. He rises and my stomach flutters as I realize what I've just gotten myself into, and he seizes me by the hips and tosses me down onto to the bed.

Then he stands up, grabs his boxers and pulls them on, and yanks his jeans up and starts doing up his belt. I fall back onto the bed, crushed. It feels like someone dropped a bowling ball on my stomach.

"Don't go. I changed my mind. We can just fool around a little more, I won't try to rush you…"

"There is no rushing," he says, softly. "Diana, I can't do this, I…" he sighs. He looks me right in the eyes and I feel a shiver pass through me. "You deserve somebody better than me."

I could react to that a million ways, but for reasons I'm not completely aware of, my hurt melts into fury as I hurl the condom box at him and he turns, bouncing it off his shoulder.

"That's not your
god damn decision.
Get out, Apollo. Get out!"

"Diana, wait-"

"I'm not waiting. I should have known better. I thought you understood me. You're just another person that wants to tell
me
what's best
for my life
. I don't want to hear it, Apollo. You had your chance," I yank the sheets up and cover myself. "Deal's off the table. Get. Out. Of. My House."

I can't look at him. I can't see that look of anguish on his face. He pulls his t-shirt on so hard I hear stitches pop and slams my door on his way out. I count the thuds of his footsteps on the staircase until the front door slams, and tear myself out of bed, choking down on my sobs, trying to swallow my fury.

I scrub my face in the sheets until it hurts, get up and grab the condom box. With my luck, Mom would trip over it when I got home and I'd get a six hour lecture about being a slut for being prepared to have sex.

I get in the shower and turn up the water until it hurts, and just stand there. If the hot water peels the skin off, maybe it will distract me from the world ending.

What is the goddamn point? Why do I even bother? I lean on the wall and close my eyes and there's nothing behind them but my own future staring back at me. The light at the end of the tunnel is an oncoming train ready to run me over, the conductor is my mother and the passenger is a cold, dry life studying what she wants, going where she wants, doing what she wants, dating who she wants, living the life she wanted for herself.

Everybody wants me to be a puppet. Mom wants to live through me, Lucas wants me to be his fuck toy, Apollo used me and fed me some bullshit to let me down gently (after I must have swallowed a quart of his… gah!) after I thought he really felt something for me. Felt the way I did.

There was something
there
. A spark, a connection. I'm not stupid. There's no such thing as love at first sight. It's just hormones. It was…

It was real. What I felt was
real
. Prince Charming came and swept me off my feet. Except it was just an act.

The only person in my life that's straight with me is Charity.

Sitting on my bed wrapped up in towels, I call her.

"Hey," she yawns. "Di? What's up?"

"Are you working today?"

"Nah. My uncle gave me a couple days to sleep it off. You really saved my ass."

"Can you come over? Wait, I'll come to you."

It takes me an hour to get dressed, and a glass of orange juice and a frozen sausage biscuit to get my strength up to drive. Charity is waiting for me on her porch. We go around the back of the house and sit in faded, warped adirondack chairs around a big clay chimney pot.

"You want some weed?" she says, looking wistfully into the distance. "You have an 'I need weed' air about you today."

"No."

"My uncle made brownies."

"I could go for brownies. Wait. Do they have weed in them?"

"No, he does this thing that makes a kind of butter out of it-"

"Nevermind. I need a drink. Something that won't intoxicate me."

She comes back with plain old lemonade in a glass and I down half of it at once. It's actually pretty good.

"Tell me what happened."

I take a deep breath, and I tell her. She nods and listens, and when I'm done she slaps her fist into her other hand.

"That sucks. Where is he? I'll rip his balls off. That'll show him."

"Yeah, please don't. I just want to forget about this."

"Uh, isn't his dad banging your mom?"

I look over at her and wrinkle my nose.

"I mean, are they not in a… uh… relationship?"

"It's not like Mom has never dated before." I shake the lemonade at her. "She'll dump him when he pisses her off. This needs vodka."

"Uh," Charity says, eyeing me. "You… maybe start off with a beer?"

"Just give me some fucking booze."

"Fine, fine. I'll be right back."

Truth is, I'm not much of a drinker, but the now hardened lemonade goes down easy and after a big gulp I already start to feel a buzz. Over the next ten minutes or so, I drain it and Charity gets another one, and one for herself. I can tell by the color that hers is mostly booze. She can usually handle her liquor. She must have had a
lot
at that party. By the time she's half done a tall tumblr of mostly vodka, she's a little giggly but that's it.

"Am I fucking cursed?" I blurt out, and take another drink.

"You got some big brass balls on you, bitching the way you do," Charity snaps.

"What?"

"Listen to yourself. You have trouble with one boyfriend and it's the end of the fucking world, and the other shit. 'Oh, my mommy won't pay for my underwear when I got to college on a full ride!' You know where I'm going? Community college. To study plumbing. I'm going to be a girl plumber. People are going to make jokes about me for the rest of my life. At least your mom gives a flying fuck about you. Mine doesn't even know I exist.
She
lets me do whatever I want. Oh, it's just great! Fucking great! Oh no, the hottest guy in town ate my pussy like a pro for a week straight, I had too many orgasms, whatever shall I do!"

I just stare at her.

She stares back. "I love you, Diana. Besides my uncle you're the closest thing I have to real family. But it can be tough to be your friend, sometimes. If you want my life and I'll take yours, I'm game. I don't get the guys that are considerate enough not to actually fuck me before they get bored and move on. My last boyfriend only stayed with me until I took it in the butt. He dumped me the next day. With a
text.
Hey, hope your butt isn't too sore, see ya later! Except he didn't spell out you. It was just, like, a U."

"You… he… in your butt?"

"He had a needle dick anyway," she takes a long swig. "If prince charming isn't interested anymore, give him my number. I'd trade a little rumpy-pumpy for these amazing oral skills you keep talking about. I could do a week of infatuation before I get dumped. At least I'd get to feel like somebody sees me as more than cheap labor or some moist holes for a few days."

"Jesus, Charity," I blurt out. "I'm sorry, I didn't-"

"Now you're leaving too," she blurts out, then sucks in a breath that turns into a sob. "In a couple of months you'll start school and I'll be all alone here, if I don't get thrown out of the house by the end of the summer."

Stunned, I sit there and listen to her sobbing quietly. What do I do? Is she angry with me?

"Charity?"

"I'm sorry," she chokes out. "I didn't mean it like that. You know I love you, but… Diana, you're beautiful. You and those eyes and your huge rack and everything. When you go to college there will be boys all over you. Real human boys, not towering fuckbots like Lucas. Lucas will probably get a football scholarship, roid rage and choke out a hooker in his third year, and go to prison. You can do whatever you want. I wish I was you sometimes, that's all."

I grab her hand, and I finish my vodka.

Then my phone rings.

I shouldn't have chugged the second half of the glass. I feel a little, ah, funny.

"Hello?" I slur.

"Diana?"

It's my mother.

Oh.

Uh oh.

"Hi!" I shout, trying to sound calm and normal.

"Where are you? You left all the lights out at the house."

"Oh. Sorry." I seem to have forgotten it was getting dark. "I'm at Charity's house."

"Are you drinking? You sound like you're drinking."

"Who, me? No, I'm just tired and uh, cramping. I have cramps."

"Get back here. We need to talk."

"Uh," I say, glancing at Charity, who is no better shape
 
to drive than I am. "I don't think that's a good idea. I'm really tired. I probably shouldn't drive."