I toss the phone on the passenger seat and start the car again, then drive slowly down the driveway. Now, if I were Kate, I’d have revved the thing so you could hear the engine miles away, and I’d peel out of the driveway so fast there’d be thirty feet of burned rubber in my wake.
I drive aimlessly for a while, not really any clue where I’m going. I end up on Sunset Blvd and decide to park and walk around for a bit. I pop into a tacqueria and get a burrito, which I eat at a table by the window. A blond girl and her friend are at the other table, both of them giving me the eye. Neither are as cute as Emma, and I’m pretty sure the blond’s tits are fake, but I give her a smile when I catch her looking at me, and that’s all the invitation she needs.
She shimmies over in cut offs and a pink tank top.
“Hi,” she says. She nods to the empty chairs across from me. “Are these seats taken?”
“Nope.”
This close and yes, those tits are fake as hell.
“Do you mind . . .?”
She lets the question trail off. This close and I can also see she’s considerably older than I initially thought, with her fake spray tan and Botoxed brow.
“Go right ahead,” I say, and the blond looks at her friend and giggles.
“Oh, he’s got an accent. We love a man with an accent!”
“Is that so?”
“Yes,” the blond say emphatically. “An accent makes a man a thousand times more attractive—not that you need it,” she adds.
I smile. “That’s very sweet of you.”
“So clearly, you’re from out of town,” the blond says. “Or did you just move?”
“No, I’ll be heading back to London in about a week. I’m here for a wedding, actually.”
“Not your own, I hope.”
“No, definitely not.”
“Okay, good.” She smiles and her face barely moves. “My friend and I—Jenna, and I’m Carly—we don’t live far from here. Would you like to come over?” She looks at the bottle of lemonade I’ve half-drunk. “We could have something a little stronger.” Her friend, Jenna, nods and gives me an encouraging smile.
“We’ll definitely make it worth your while,” she says.
I lean back in my chair. If I had to guess, these girls are probably in their early- or mid-thirties. An early- to mid-thirties bird is generally going to be a great shag, at least in all the experiences I’ve had so far. She knows what she wants, how she likes it, and she’s not afraid to ask for it. And a threesome with two mid-thirties girls is likely to be an all-out fuck fest that involves all orifices and much broken furniture.
And these girls aren’t bad looking—they’re just starting to realize that they’re not young anymore and that they’re not going to be able to count on their looks much longer. Right now, they’re really just looking for some validation, and what better way to get it from a young guy with an accent?
I consider, for a moment. It would be like doing a public service almost, giving these two a much-needed boost of self esteem. And to suddenly go from having a ton of sex to having none has been a bit jarring, and I wouldn’t mind a nice ride right about now, either. But that would completely fuck up anything with Emma—if she found out, but I don’t want to feel like I’m keeping something from her. Even though we’re not going out. We’re not even having sex anymore. We’re not anything. But . . . still.
“That’s a very tempting offer,” I say, “but regrettably, I’m going to have to decline.”
“Oh,” Carly says. The two girls pout for a second. “That is too bad. We were just headed to a sex shop, actually.”
“A sex shop?”
“Yes. We’ve got a couple things we need to get.” I think Carly is trying to raise an eyebrow at me, but the Botox is preventing that. “You could come with us.”
“You two birds want to take me to a sex shop.” I pretend as though I’m mulling this over, even though I already know the answer. “Sure,” I say. “Let’s go.” The shop is close by, so we walk. I let each of them take an arm, so here I am, moseying down Sunset Blvd with what could very well be two prostitutes on either arm, and boy if I don’t feel like a blue-blooded American. Someone please, come take my picture. Except . . . I don’t think Emma would be too thrilled about that.
The shop the girls take me to is something of an enclave, with lots of leather, latex, and a wall of dildos in every color of the rainbow.
“Were you ladies looking for something in particular?” I ask.
“I need a new vibrator,” Carly says.
Jenna giggles. “Her previous one broke from overuse.”
But first, they drag me over to the clothing section, where they ask my opinion about various negligees, g-strings, and crotchless panties. All the cute little lingerie has me thinking about Emma, though, and I wonder if perhaps I should get her something. Would she like a flaming pink pair of crotchless knickers? Or some edible underwear? A latex full body suit with holes cut out for the crotch and tits? Hmm.
Carly takes my hand and pulls me over to the vibrators and dildos. “You must have a girlfriend,” she says. “And that’s why you don’t want to come back to the apartment with us.”
“It isn’t quite that,” I say, looking at the dozens and dozens of choices. Who knew there were so many options? They range from little silver bullets no more than two inches long to a huge black horse cock with a suction cup attached to the base. The thing looks like a serious weapon.
“What’s it like then?” Carly picks up one of the boxes. “Because I sure wouldn’t mind you getting me off as opposed to this thing.”
“I guess . . . I guess you could say that I’m in active pursuit of someone. Someone who both does and does not want to be pursued.”
“She must be blind then, if she doesn’t want to be pursued by you.” Carly puts the box back and picks up another, this one a cock with a little rabbit. “Here it is,” she says. “The best vibrator on the market. Maybe you should get her this.”
Something else has caught my eye though, and I move a few steps away to get a closer look. I pick up the box.
“I think this,” I say.
Carly makes a face, or tries to. Jenna has come over, and both women are looking at me skeptically.
“She’s into that?” Carly says.
“I don’t think I could ever use something like that,” Jenna says. It’s clear that both ladies think I should put the thing back and either pick something else or just give in and go back to their apartment and fuck them silly, but I’m not going to do that. I bring the box up to the register and I try to imagine the look on Emma’s face when I give it to her. This is going to be fucking hilarious.
Chapter Sixteen
Emma
I was relieved when Jai said he wasn’t going to come out on the boat with us, but after that initial relief wore off, and we’re sitting there in the middle of the lake, I find myself wishing he had joined us after all. I certainly don’t want to be having these thoughts. Really, I am doing everything I could to keep them at bay, but they kept sneaking in.
Jessica went out and bought a bunch of tabloids for us, and Mom packed us a lunch including plenty of wine coolers, so you’d think I’d have enough of a distraction, but I get sick of looking at the magazines after my second one. And the wine coolers are too sweet, and I’m not hungry.
“Sweetie,” Mom whispers at one point. “Are you about to get your period?”
“No,” I snap.
“Okay, okay. You’re just . . . you’re just in a bit of a mood, is all, and it’s such a lovely day. And we’ve got our appointments at the spa after this, so I just want you to be happy. There’s nothing worse than an unhappy person going to the spa.”
I try hard not to roll my eyes. “I could honestly think of about nine thousand things that are worse than that.”
She gives me an exasperated look and takes another long swig of her wine cooler. “Oh, Emma. Let’s just try to get along, okay? Even if you are about
to get your period.”
Hearing her say that only irritates me further, so I spend the remainder of the boat ride lying on my towel, trying to get the sun to sear away any lingering thoughts I have about Jai. Like: What is he doing? Is he thinking about me? Is he really just going to leave me alone like I wanted—demanded—him to?
Mom and Jess and Zack are laughing about something, and Zack is trying to teach Jessica how to cast a fishing line, which is pretty much the same as trying to teach a seagull how to pedal and steer a bicycle. I lift the bottom of my bathing suit an inch to check my tan line. My skin smells sweet like coconut from the suntan lotion I’ve slathered on, but I’m still getting a tan. I lay there on my back under the hot sun and I let myself pretend that Jai actually did come with us, and he is lying down next to me, slipping his hand into my bathing suit, whispering how sexy I am, how much he wants to fuck me.
When we get back to the house and the prospect of seeing him seems very likely, I know that I can’t let him know that I was thinking about him. Because if I do, it’s never going to stop. It’s just going to be this endless cycle of us fucking, then saying we’ll stop, then fucking some more.
He’s going to be your stepbrother, I tell myself. You’re going to be family.
Mom and Jess linger down by the lake with Zack, but I go up to the house. The skin of my face feels tight and hot, even though I’m not in the sun anymore. I probably have a rather splendid sunburn. I go into the kitchen to get some ice water. Perhaps I should take a shower, swiftly followed by a nap. I really don’t feel like going to the spa.
“Here you are.”
Jai’s voice startles me enough that I jump, and a little tsunami of water sloshes over the side of the glass and onto the counter. “Jesus! Is it really necessary for you to be sneaking up on people like that?”
“I’m sorry—that really wasn’t my intention. Looks like you got some sun. How was your boat outing?”
“Sunny.”
He smiles. “I love when you’re cheeky with me.”
“I’m not trying to be cheeky.”
“I got you something,” he says, handing me a gorgeously wrapped package, shiny silver paper with a bright purple satin ribbon, the package itself about the length of a shoe box but narrower by half. “I myself had a rather relaxing afternoon and ended up just poking into a few shops, and when I saw this, I couldn’t not get it for you.” He’s trying not to smile, or not to smile any wider than he already is.
“Thank you,” I say, trying not to sound too suspicious. It’s got a bit of heft to it, whatever it is, and I slowly pull the ribbon off, then remove the wrapping. One half of the box is clear plastic, the other cardboard. It takes me a second to register just what it is. It’s a sausage. He got me food. But then I look at it more closely. It’s three quarters of a sausage connected to a white plastic base, about two or three inches long. The box’s label reads: The Naughty Gourmet. Sausage Vibe for the Serious Food Fetishizer.
“What the hell!” I say, and throw the box at him. It bounces off his chest but he manages to catch it before it falls to the ground.
“Like I said, I saw this and couldn’t help but think of you,” he says. “You know, after that enlightening breakfast chat the other morning. It’s quite realistic looking, wouldn’t you say? Think it smells like a sausage, too?”
“You’re disgusting. I don’t have a food fetish.”
“I know, but, if I remember correctly, you do like vibrators, do you not? Isn’t that something you told me when we first met?”
“I’m honestly trying to forget that the two of us ever met.”
“Did you happen to bring that vibrator with you?”
“That’s none of your business.”
“Well, I figured you didn’t. And, if you’re really serious about us not hooking up anymore, then . . . I’m prepared to respect that, I really am. I might not agree with it, but I’ll respect it. But despite us not having sex—”
“Will you keep your voice down?” I hiss. “Anyone could hear you.”
“They’re all outside. Aren’t you ladies all getting ready to go to the spa soon? Maybe you could bring this.”
“Just stop talking to me. I don’t want your presents. I don’t want anything from you, okay? Well, the only thing I want from you is for you to leave me alone—”
“Can’t do that, I’m afraid. It would be a huge letdown to our parents, since their main goal for this whole experience is for us to get closer as a family.”
“I think the whole thing is moronic. I get it—wanting to make this nice little blended family, but guess what? It’s not like we’re little kids. We’re adults. Once this wedding is over, we’re all going to go back to our separate lives. Maybe we’ll get together during the holidays at the most. So this whole idea of having this enforced family time seems stupid.” I fold my arms across my chest.
Jai regards me, the look on his face softening to one of tenderness, reminding me yet again that he really is one of the most handsome human beings I’ve ever seen. “Is that what this is all about?” he says. “You don’t want to really let yourself get involved because you think we’re all just going to fly back to our other lives once this is over?”
I can’t tell if he’s mocking me or not. Is that what this is about? No, not really, I decide after a moment. What this is really about is the man who is about to be my stepbrother just bought me a vibrator in the shape of a sausage.
“I’m done with this conversation,” I say. Right then, my mother comes inside, and Jai smoothly slides the hand holding the vibrator behind his back.
“Oh, Emma, here you are,” Mom says. She looks at Jai. “Oh, I’m glad you’re in here, too. Your dad’s looking for you. He’s actually going to take the boat back out—one of your old neighbors just showed up and he’s got a cooler of beer. Josh Tucker, I think?”
Jai smiles. “Ah, Josh. Yeah, he lives on the other side of the lake. He’s good company. If he’s going out on the boat, I suppose I can join them for a little bit.” He looks at me and grins. “Have a smashing time at the spa. I almost wish I was going.”
“You’re more than welcome to,” Mom says.
“No, no. Maybe next time. I was just telling Emma that I hope she enjoys herself and comes back nice and relaxed. She seems a bit tense, doesn’t she?”
“You know, she does.”
My shoulders inch closer to my ears. I grit my teeth and try to force them down.
Jai makes a graceful exit, again wishing us a luxurious spa experience, and then he’s gone, thankfully taking that awful vibrator with him.
Mom steps right up to me, brushes something from the sleeve of my t-shirt. “Even he can see that you’re stressed,” she murmurs. “I know there’s a lot going on, sweetie, but I really wanted this to be a good time for everyone. I don’t want this to be a stressful wedding. Are you ready to go? I think a mani pedi and a massage, and maybe a nice mud wrap are just what you need.”
I can feel a headache coming on, and the idea of a stranger touching my hands, my feet, pushing down my cuticles, rubbing lotions on me and then encasing me in mud is about the last thing I want to do.
“Mom,” I say. “I’m just going to go lie down. I’m getting a headache. I think I got too much sun today.”
“Oh, sweetie.” She touches my forehead. “You don’t feel warm.”
“I didn’t say a fever. I’m not sick; I’m just . . . You’re right. There is a lot going on, and I know you want everything to be peaceful and harmonious, and I appreciate that, I really do. And I am having a good time, but I think I just need to have a little quiet time right now, maybe take a nap. If I take a nap, I’ll probably wake up feeling a lot better.”
“Are you sure? We could reschedule the spa.”
“I doubt it. I think places like those want at least twenty-four hours notice. Why don’t you and Jess go and then maybe we can go another time, if I feel up for it.”
I can see her vacillating between guilt
tripping me into going and letting me just stay here. She sighs.
“All right, then. You stay here. Get some rest. Everyone else will be out, so the house will be nice and quiet. You’ll be able to have a little alone time. And of course we’ll go back to the spa, if you want to go.”
“Thanks, Mom.”
I hurry up to my bedroom before she has a chance to change her mind or before I run into Jai again. I go over to the window, which overlooks the backyard. In the distance, I can see Zack down by the dock, with a couple of his buddies. Jai’s there, too. He turns, looking back toward the house, and I jump back, even though I highly doubt he’ll be able to see me.
I go and lie down. I do feel tired, but sleep doesn’t seem like a possibility at the moment. I reach to the bedside table and get my phone. I call Megan.
“Hey!” she says. “How’s it going?”
“It’s all right. I’m in bed right now.”
“With Jai?”
“No! Not with Jai. I should be out with my mom and my sister at the spa, but I’m in bed. I’m just feeling a little overwhelmed, I think.”
“Because of the wedding?” Her tone is sympathetic.
“Yes. And no.”
“It’s because of Jai, isn’t. Have you guys . . . have you hooked up anymore?”
I pause. Consider lying. Megan would be able to hear that in an instant, though, so instead I tell her the truth.
“I just don’t know what to do,” I say. “And, get this: he bought me a sausage vibrator.”
“Excuse me?”
“He bought me a vibrator, and it looks like a sausage. I shit you not.”
She bursts out laughing. “Oh my god, that’s fucking hilarious. Take a picture of it and send it to me. Have you used it yet?”
“No! Are you kidding me? I’m not going to use it. I’m not even remotely turned on by that sort of thing. And I can’t take a picture of it, because I gave it back to him.”
“Aw, really? Why? You should get it back. I’m sure he’ll give it back to you.”
“I’m not going to use that. I don’t have some weird food fetish.”
Side Swiped By My Step Brother Page 11