Well, not for once, I guess. Because there are two other distinct times in life when I can do this; two other precise instances when I can allow myself to think of nothing but the now. One of them is when I’m on stage; when I’m singing and playing and just in it.
And the other is whenever I’m with Knox.
Goddamnit.
The joint comes around again, and I’m shaking my head of that boy and giggling as I take it from Josh’s hand. Our fingers brush as I pluck it from his hand, and I smile up into his eyes at the contact.
Josh isn’t anyone for me, I know that. Sure, he’s handsome, and on the right path, and cultured, and groomed, but nothing about him grabs at me. Nothing about him sinks its hooks into me like-
Well, like Knox does.
But that whole thing needs to end, that much is obvious. Knox is the wrong move on every level, and a mistake I can’t afford to make. I need something normal, and there is nothing normal about fooling around with your stepbrother.
I’m remembering suddenly that I’ve never really drank before, and between the almost finished second beer in my hands and the pot, my head is starting to swim. I lean into Josh, laying my head against his shoulder as I let the music and the laughter and the everything of this moment just simmer into me.
He stiffens for a second, turning his attention from the boy next to him to glance at me and smile. He’s putting his arm around me, and part of me knows this isn’t anything I should be doing, and that doing this just to get Knox out of my head probably isn’t healthy, but I’m ignoring it all.
After all, I’m young, I’m tipsy, and Goddamnit, I want to make some mistakes in my life for once.
I turn my face up to Josh’s, a fuzzy smile on my lips; “Hey,” I say, summoning all the courage I’ve got in the world and drowning my doubt in it; “Can we go somewhere?”
Josh’s smiling face grows much more serious at my words, and he frowns uncomfortably as his eyes dart around my face; “Oh- uh,”
“You know,” I say, slurring my words a little and feeling tingly all over; “Somewhere we can go, to...uh-”
He shoots me an awkward smile; “Oh, yeah, no, Paige, I got what you meant, but-”
He frowns and shakes his head, looking down.
Oh my God, he’s saying no.
I’m suddenly feeling nauseous with humiliation, my face going bright red as I swallow the horrible feeling of rejection; “Oh- oh my God-”
I’m starting to jump out of my seat on the couch when Josh stops me with a hand on my arm; “No, Paige, it’s not that, I-” He shoots a quick look at the boy from upstairs sitting next to him, and suddenly he’s entwining his fingers in the other boy’s hand as he turns back to me, his eyes pleading.
And it all clicks; “Oh-”
“Look, don’t say anything to your dad or my parents, OK?”
Oh my God; I’m dropping my burning face into my hands and groaning, feeling like the world’s biggest freaking idiot.
“Hey, hey,” Josh’s hand is on my back, rubbing my shoulder; “Look, that’s not at all why I brought you, you know; not like some kind of cover or whatever. My parents they-”
“Look, it’s fine; I get it, really,” I mumble, feeling all the excitement and thrill of my first party flying right out the window and just feeling stupid and humiliated. I tilt the last of my beer into my mouth, and then I grab Josh’s out of his hand and start to drink that too.
“Um, Paige?”
The room starts to spin a little bit with the effects of the alcohol and the pot and the crushing sense of shame and embarrassment rocking through me. I put the now empty cup down and then look up miserably at Josh; “I- I think I need to go home.”
He smiles at rubs my back as he nods towards the boy whose hand he’s holding; “Evan can drive us.”
I know my mom hates when I smoke inside, and that Joe’s actually expressly forbidden it, but that doesn’t stop me tonight. I’m sitting half outside my bedroom window with my leg dangling down over the windowsill chain smoking when that fucking car pulls up into the huge curving driveway of the house.
The same fucking silver Jaguar that she roared off in earlier tonight with him.
Fuckin’ Josh Riley.
I mean, I get it, of course. The guy is every fucking inch the type of dude she should be with. He’s clean cut and charming and polite, and he comes from a good family and all that bullshit. I mean, I’ve only been here in this life a month, but damn if it isn’t feudal fucking England with these people. And if marrying his daughter off to a guy like Josh in order to cement a shipping contract with that family is what Joe wants to do, that’s exactly what’s going to happen.
Not that I saw her complaining much with those giggly fucking looks and those batted eyes his way all fucking night. And of course, my go-to is to revert to a fucking child and send her dick-pics all night.
Nice work, douchebag.
I’m gritting my teeth as I peer around one of the roof gables and stare at the tinted-window Jag in the driveway. They’re lingering, and I can feel my pulse hammering in my ears.
Teenagers lingering in cars in driveway after a date; yeah, I don’t need those windows to not be tinted to know what the fuck is happening down there.
It makes me want to scream; makes we want to put my fist through this fucking window or shove a piece of furniture out of it.
Yeah, she’d love that, huh?
Childish tantrums and bullshit exactly like that are why she’s off with him tonight anyways. Well, that and the whole fucking Luke Roberts story.
Thanks for that, Joshy.
My fists are clenched as I stab the last cigarette in my pack out against the outside wall of the house before dropping it into the empty soda can on my windowsill. I’m shaking my head as the confusion roars through me. I mean what the fuck, man? Why the fuck am I so enraged by the thought of her with someone else? She’s not mine; she’s not my fucking girlfriend or some shit.
Yeah, she’s your stepsister, remember?
The passenger door opens finally, and she steps out, looking sexy as sin in that slinky black evening dress. I can feel the rage pulse through me again at the thought of her with him.
If he fucking touched her-
The car pulls away from the front steps of the house back down the long curving driveway. Paige suddenly glances up and sees me, hanging out the window like some sort of fucking puppy-dog.
Fuck this. I don’t need this shit. I can go get laid wherever and whenever I want by whoever I want. Why am I even home right now? I should just get on my bike and go find something strange and go wild; someone I can forget about Paige with.
And yet, here I am, like a pathetic douche.
Of course, that doesn’t mean I have to acknowledge her coming home. I look away from her standing there in the driveway and duck back into my room.
There’s the sound a few minutes later of her stumbling through the front door downstairs, and then clumsily shutting it loudly behind her. She’s clomping up the stairs, making way too much noise for it being this late at night in King Joe’s house.
Oh yeah, she’s definitely been drinking. Well fuck it; fine, good for her. About fucking time she cut loose a little and had some fun.
With Josh Riley..
I can hear her stumble into her bedroom, followed by a muffled thump, and I glance towards the door of the bathroom connecting our rooms.
Don’t go; don’t you fucking go in there.
But of course I do anyways.
She’s wincing and rubbing her shin when I step through into her room, her hair wild and loose and her dress hiked way up on her thighs as she sits sprawled on the ground.
“You OK.”
She looks up at me with this melodramatically sad face; “Oh, Knooox…”
Oh yeah, she’s drunk. She’s wasted, in fact, and by the faint smell of it, high too.
“Look do you need a hand or anything? Because if not I’m going back to my room.” I set m
y jaw, ready to walk away from this disaster.
She pouts as she looks back up at me, her crystal blue eyes rimmed with black mascara and yet still sparkling; “Help me up?”
Damnit.
“Fine,” I growl, reaching down for her outstretched hands and helping her to her feet; “But you’ve gotta keep it down or King Joe is gonna find out you’re drunk.”
Her eyes go wide before she clears her throat and looks at me innocently; “I’m not drunk,” She says, overly enunciating every word. Of course the second she says it, she tries to take a step and practically falls on her face as she trips over her heels.
“Sure you’re not, princess,” I mutter with a small grin on my face as I catch her and move her over to her bed, sitting her down on it; “Let’s get these heels off before you hurt someone.”
She hangs her head as I pull her shoes off, her hair draped down almost comically in front of her face; “So, how was the party?”
“Fine,” She mumbles.
“And how was Josh.” I don’t even know why I ask it, but I can feel my brow furrow and my jaw tighten the second I do.
Paige looks up at me, a pitiful look on her face; “Gay.”
I snort before I just start to laugh. And not, of course, because the guy likes dudes, but because it’s the only way the tension I’ve been holding inside all night can come out just then.
“Knox!” She hisses, her eyes wide and comically serious; “It’s a secret, OK? No telling anyone!”
I’m still chuckling as I pull her other shoe off; “No problem.”
“It’s a secret.”
“You said that.”
She snorts a mumbled laugh before she flops back on the bed. I stand, looking down at her and shaking my head while I do my best to ignore the fact that her dress is hiked so high that I can see her panties.
Her black lace panties.
Yeah, uh, no, dude.
She’s wasted; like, first-time-drunk-wasted, which checks out, knowing Paige.
“Get some sleep, Paige,” I say, shaking my head as I start to pull the blankets up over her.
“Wait-wait-wait!” She says, suddenly bolting up and grinning a loopy grin at me; “I can’t sleep in my clothes, dummy.”
I force myself to look up at the ceiling as she yanks her dress right up over her head and tosses it across the room.
“Knox.”
“Mhm?” I’m looking around her room, looking everywhere but at the very practically naked, very drunk Paige sitting on her bed in front of me.
“Why won’t you look at me?”
I laugh; “Because I’m working on being a gentleman, that’s why.”
I freeze as I feel her hands suddenly on the waistband of my pajama pants, tugging me towards her; “I like you not being one,” She says quietly; “I like you being bad.”
I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to will the growing erection in my pants away; “Not this kind of bad, darlin. You’re drunk.”
“So?”
“So that’s why-”
“Knox.”
I’m still staring at the wall above her bed in front of me, using my iron willpower not to look down at her as I hear movement. Suddenly, something soft bounces off my chest, and my hands grab it on instinct.
It’s her panties.
I break then, as I suddenly drop my eyes to a very, very naked Paige, sitting back on her bed with every inch of her perfect, flawless, virgin body on display.
Fuuuuccck.
“Knox,” She says quietly, biting her lip and looking up at me; “I think tonight’s the night.”
“Huh?”
She sits up suddenly and puts her hand on the traitorous bulge in my pants, making me stiffen and swallow heavily; “I want to lose it tonight.”
Oh, shit.
She’s pulling me down with her back onto the bed, pulling me on top of her and wrapping her legs around my waist.
Bad, bad, bad; the voice in my head screaming at me. I mean Jesus Christ do I want this. I’m imaging how fucking good it would feel to ease the head of my cock against that soft, untouched pussy and slowly stretch her open for the first time. Fireworks go off in my head, imagining sinking into her; imagining making her come on a cock for the first time.
I groan; not like this.
NOT like this.
She’s trying to kiss my neck while her hands fumble at trying to pull my shirt off when I finally set my resolve and pull away from her; “Paige, stop.”
“Why?” She whines, pouting at me and trying to pull me back down to her.
“Because this is not how this is going to happen, that’s why. Not while you’re like this.”
I can see her face start to crumble, a pink flush coming into her cheeks as her bottom lip starts to jut out; “Do you not want me?” She says, her voice wavering.
“Jesus, Paige,” I groan, rolling onto my back next to her; “Yes, I fucking want you. Are you fucking kidding me? I want you in every possible-”
The sound of a snore has me jerking my head back to see her with her eyes clothes, her mouth slightly open.
I chuckle; Perfect.
I’m just starting to shift to move out of the bed when I hear her mumble something and turn back; “What’s that?”
“I think I’d like you to be my first, you know,” She mumbles again, making me grin and once again try and ignore how hard I am and how entirely naked she is.
Talk about about temptation.
“Me too, princess,” I murmur, pulling the sheet up over her body; “Me too.”
I start to slide off the bed when I feel her hand on my arm; “Stay with me?”
I pause for only a second before I nod and lay back in her bed “OK.”
She curls up against me, her eyes closed and her breathing rhythmic as she lets her head down on my chest.
“Sleep tight, princess.”
I wake to the sound of a lawn mower outside, and I’m cringing at the light piercing through my closed eyes. I wince as I shift, feeling a lance of white pain shoot through my head and dull queasiness in my stomach.
So, this is a hangover.
On a night of firsts like last night, apparently this is one more for the checklist.
The lawnmower growls past my bedroom window and fades away again as it moved back around the side of the house, and I groan and start to turn over in my bed when I suddenly freeze.
Oh holy shit, why is Knox in my bed?
That particular part of the night starts rushing back at me in faded, cringe-worthy segments, like the most embarrassing highlights reel of the worst movie ever.
But suddenly what’s worse is the parts that don’t come back to me; like, for instance, why he’s in my bed.
Crude: A Stepbrother Romance Page 14