S.O.B.

by J.C. Valentine

  Turning, I see the apprehension in Levi’s eyes as I carry the bright pink mat into the center of the room and unroll it, spreading it out on the floor. “Right now, we need to focus on rebuilding strength and flexibility.”

  He makes a face that tells me he thinks I’m short a few marbles. Lifting both arms up, he flexes his biceps. “Maybe you haven’t noticed, princess, but I have plenty of strength and no one has ever complained about my flexibility.”

  “Neither has anything to do with your leg,” I inform him with a roll of my eyes. Despite it being a non-displaced fracture which—considering its location—is rare and incredibly lucky, it still needs to be dealt with properly to reduce the risk of further injury. Something I’m sure he knows, but I feel the need to remind him. “You did a lot of damage when you fractured that bone, so now it’s a matter of restoring full functionality. Unless you want to hurt yourself even more, we need to do this smart.”

  “Are you suggesting I’m not smart?” Levi’s devilish smirk is firmly in place as he approaches the mat, scratching his bearded chin and eying it skeptically.

  In response, I give him an arch look, letting the silence speak for itself. Honestly, I know Levi isn’t as shallow or aloof as he pretends to be. As much as I would have preferred her not to, my Mom has kept me just as informed about his life as the tabloids.

  Playing for Duke—it hasn’t escaped me that he was a Blue Devil—I know he graduated with honors and was accepted into MLS. His skills on the field have not only inspired whispers of a possible shot at the Olympics, but it’s provided him with a lot of corporate sponsorship in which a good portion of the money he receives from endorsements go to charities.

  I also know that the main reason his father called me in is because Levi is in the middle of working out a very lucrative contract with one of the top selling athletics companies in the world, and he needs to be able to walk the walk as well as he talks the talk. All of this Levi keeps under tight wraps, though I’m not sure why. Maybe he just enjoys the life of billionaire playboy a little too much.

  As soon as he’s planted himself on the mat, I go into full-on therapist mode and kneel down in front of him, unlacing and removing his shoe. “Let’s start with extending your legs and flexing your foot so I can gauge your range of motion.”

  He does what I say, and it doesn’t escape my notice when he twinges. His cocky demeanor evaporates instantly and he gets real serious, real fast.

  “Good, now press your toes toward me,” I continue. “Now side to side.” We continue with the rotation and add in some simple stretches with an elastic band. After some time has passed and I’m satisfied with his progress, I stand up and head back to where I got the mat from and pick up the simple piece of equipment that reminds me of the planet Saturn.

  “Come sit down over here,” I tell Levi, indicating the polished wooden bench lining the mirrored wall.

  “What in the world is that?”

  “This,” I say as I bend down and set it at his feet, “is your new best friend—a wobble board. Put your feet on either side of the ball. The idea here is to rock it back and forth in nice, slow, controlled movements.”

  That doubtful look crosses his face again, but Levi follows my instructions without another word. I can tell it’s a little uncomfortable for him—someone with so much energy—having to slow his pace, but maybe this experience will teach him a little patience in the process.

  “This was not what I intended when I brought you here,” Levi says as he stretches his muscles. With my arms folded across my chest, I continue observing him in silence. Looking up at me, he forges on. “I had this plan. After the doctor appointment, I figured we’d come work out together, I’d show you my prowess, and then you’d strip off all your clothes and beg me to fuck you.”

  My lip curls in disgust. “And why would you think I would do that? No, scratch that. Why would you want me to do that?”

  “To prove to you that you still want me, because ever since the moment you saw me again you’ve been fighting your attraction to me.”

  I snort. “You must have hit your head a few too many times on the field.”

  “Probably,” he concedes, “but that doesn’t mean I’m wrong. Am I?”

  My mouth opens to tell him just how wrong he is, but the words freeze in my throat. As I stand here, staring into those tropical blue eyes, I can’t make myself tell the lie. Disturbed by this, I gather up the mat from the floor and toss it back into the pile with the others. “That’s enough for today. We’re done here.”

  Scrambling to catch up, Levi follows me back out to the car, reaching past me to open the passenger door. I climb in, buckling my belt and staring out the windshield while he pauses there, holding the door open as he stares down at me. I refuse to look at him. I don’t want this, any of it. I just want to get through this month and get out of here.

  But Levi is determined to make it a nightmare. Just before he closes the door, I hear him say, “You’re wrong, princess. We’re not even close to being done. We’re just getting started.”

  FML.

  6

  I don’t know what I’m doing. I could blame my telling Vista that we’re only getting started on my drive to get a rise out of her, or because I don’t know when to shut my mouth, but the truth is that was the truth.

  As much as I want to keep this thing between us purely business, and as much as it needs to stay that way, nothing I feel for this woman is business or platonic or remotely brotherly.

  I’ve spent the entire day with this woman, and it’s as if no time has passed. No matter how much I keep trying to find something about her that I don’t like, something to give me a reason to cut this attraction I have for her off like a gangrenous limb, I keep finding stuff about her that makes me want her even more.

  Vista is gorgeous, even more so than when we were kids. She has brains, too, which I’m finding incredibly hot, especially when she got down on the floor with me and started issuing commands. It took some serious maneuvering to hide the hard-as-steel erection it gave me. She’s also sassy and incredibly stubborn, but I find that I like that quality about her, too. She thinks she can talk herself into not wanting me, but she doesn’t notice the way her body responds whenever I’m near her—the subtle pinkening of her cheeks, the quickening of her pulse, and the way her eyes track my every move.

  But I do.

  I notice all of it, and it turns me on like nothing else. The way my body has answered hers doesn’t shock me at all. It’s just like when I was eighteen and our parents first introduced us. There was this magnetic pull, an inexplicable instant attraction. I’d never experienced anything like it before. The difference between now and then, however, is that Vista is determined to resist and I’m...not.

  It’s unreasonable for me to think that I can have her. Our parents are married, for crying out loud. But we’re only siblings by paper, not blood. What is unreasonable is expecting two complete strangers to deny their baser urges just because their parents decided to sign a legal document. If we had grown up together, it would be different, but we met as adults. We’ve never lived under the same roof or followed the same set of rules. I don’t know what she likes to eat for breakfast or if she leaves wet towels on the floor. I don’t know if she scares easily or who her friends are.

  What I do know about Vista is limited. I know she’s a serious person, focused, driven. I know she values her family, even if it is only her mother. I know she’s passionate and giving, especially in bed. And I know she’s had her heart broken at least once.

  I want to know more. I want to know everything. But there’s my father to consider.

  David would shit a brick if anything developed between me and Vista. He’d probably have my other leg broken or just disown me completely. The kind of scandal being my stepsister’s lover would bring about is incomprehensible. The media would have a field day with it. It wouldn’t affect me in the least. I could give a flying fuck what anyone thinks of me. But D
avid Black has a reputation to consider, and somehow I’ve fallen into that equation. And that’s why my father made it clear how off-limits Vista is to me.

  I watch Vista sleeping, her face awash in the flickering glow of the television. Having captured that perfect peace, her features are slack, her eyes darting around behind closed lids as she chases her dreams.

  After we arrived home, she accused me of trying to starve her to death, and then ordered a pizza. With my credit card. She took over my living room after that, channel surfing until she landed on some sappy romance movie with some douchebag actor spilling tears every other scene and completely unmanning men everywhere. It wasn’t until it became clear that she was going to eat the entire damn pie that I decided to join her or risk starving myself.

  Turns out, the chick movies aren’t half bad and it comes with the added bonus of getting to sit here and stare at some seriously beautiful scenery.

  Vista’s mom, Lara, was spot on when she named her daughter. Vista is one hell of a sight to get lost in.

  My phone buzzes in my pocket, interrupting my thoughts, which is just as well since they were taking a nosedive into female territory. Any longer, and I’d be risking scrotal retraction.

  I curse under my breath when I see who’s calling. It’s as if David Black is psychic. Swiping my finger over the screen, I answer the call. “Hey, Dad. What’s up?”

  “How is the arrangement working out?” he asks, cutting straight to the point.

  “Fine so far.”

  “Are you sticking to the agreement?”

  “Like glue.” Growing agitated, I run my fingers through my hair. Even at twenty-two he continues to treat me like a child.

  “Good, because it would cause problems if you didn’t, and I don’t have the patience or resources right now to clean up another of your messes.”

  For fuck’s sake. “I told you I would handle it myself. You didn’t need to step in—”

  “But I did,” he interrupts in typical David Black fashion. “And you’d better be grateful. Otherwise, Terrance Adams would have taken that contract and torn it up, then where would you be? Just how long do you think I’m going to continue to support you?”

  As he gets rolling on his speech of what a worthless disappointment of a son I am, I tune him out. I’ve heard it all before, countless times, and at this point, I can recite it forward and backward in my sleep. My father may be successful but he’s also predictable. He believes in finding a method that works and sticking with it. So far it’s worked well for him, but what he fails to grasp is that one day, it will be his downfall. Not mine.

  “...regular reports to my office, understand?”

  “Sorry, I checked out,” I tell him, earning another round of chastising.

  “If you can manage to be responsible for a nanosecond, tell your sister that I want regular updates on your progress. If we expect to keep this deal with Adams on the table, we can’t afford to waste any time. He’s going to want proof that your recovery is on track so he knows he isn’t wasting his time investing in you.”

  I love how he’s taken to referring to my business venture to ours. “Yeah, Dad, I’ll fill her in in the morning. She looks too peaceful to wake up right now.”

  There’s a long pause. “Levi, I meant what I said. If I find out you two are having anything other than a platonic relationship—”

  “Don’t worry, Dad,” I interrupt, knowing how much it pisses him off when I do. “We’ll be sure to keep it strictly PG-13.”

  “Damn it, boy!”

  “I’ve gotta go.” I hang up the phone, cutting off his tirade. No doubt, he’ll lay into me next time we run into each other anyway, so I’m not really missing anything. Dad never misses an opportunity to cut into me. For now, though, I’m going to live up to my promise.

  Tossing my phone on the table, I lean forward and pull my shirt over my head. Slipping my arms under Vista’s shoulders, I pull her dead weight, repositioning her body over mine so we’re lying together on the couch, her head on my chest and her arm draped across my stomach.

  Is it wrong to do this? Maybe. Do I care? Not even a little bit. Vista’s weight on me feels good. Perfect. She’s warm and soft, her curves fitting around me just right. I think about that night. It was a lot like this, only Vista wanted to be in my arms. I wish I could go back. I’d change everything.

  I never would have pushed her away.

  ***

  “Oh, my God.”

  I wake up to Vista’s breathy voice in my ear, and the smile I struggle to fight down is instantaneous. I can feel her heat pressing against my side, scalding my skin straight through her clothes. She’s panicking now, I can tell, and it only makes me want to smile wider. I want her to think the worst. I want to see her reaction, to be center stage when that fiery passion erupts.

  Pinned between me and the couch, her hand presses into the center of my chest as she struggles to push herself up onto her hip and in the process, crushes my ribcage.

  “Damn, woman,” I grunt. Wrapping my hand around her wrist, I remove some of the pressure. When I open my eyes, I meet hers. They’re wide and full of confusion, maybe a touch of horror, too.

  “How—Why—Did we...?” She shakes her head then throws her leg over mine, scrambling off me.

  I watch her as she runs her hands over her clothes and through her hair, and her expression makes me laugh. “Did you know you snore when you sleep?”

  “I do not!” Snatching a pillow from the floor where I tossed it last night, she lobs it at my face, but I catch it one-handed before it can reach its target.

  “You’re right. You were too exhausted to do much more than drool.”

  Her eyes flare and I can tell she’s about to scream, so I decide to take mercy on her and put her mind at ease to save myself the ruptured eardrum.

  “Don’t worry, princess. Your virtue, or what’s left of it, is still intact.”

  She scowls down at me, but when she speaks her voice is soft and filled with doubt. “We didn’t sleep together?”

  “Oh, we slept together,” I say as I push myself up and place my bare feet on the floor. “Just not in the way you’re hoping.”

  “Oh, get over yourself. Believe it or not, not every woman in the world wants to sleep with you.”

  With sharp movements, she strides toward the stairs. I watch her go for a moment before remembering that I can match her pace now, and then I get up and go after her.

  “You’re right. Not every woman in the world wants a piece of me. Although, they’d be crazy not to.” She glowers at me as we reach the top of the stairs, but her eyes betray her as they fall to my bare chest. She wants me just as much as I want her, and when she lifts her gaze back to mine, I wink at her.

  Huffing, she picks up her pace.

  “But you know what I’ve come to realize?” I ask. Taking two large steps, I reach her bedroom before she does and plant myself in the opening, blocking her entry.

  Her expression twists and I can see the rage burning in her eyes. “What?” she snaps. “What is this big revelation?” Again, her gaze drops to my chest, then falls to my abs, then comes back up, sweeping over my arms, which I cross over my chest because it makes the muscles look bigger.

  I love her attitude. It’s the right mix of pissed off and intrigued. She can’t resist me and she knows it, and that’s what’s got her all riled up. I can read the truth all over her. I decide to enlighten her.

  “What I’ve come to realize is that it doesn’t matter how many women want me, just which woman wants me. And there’s only one woman whose opinion of me matters right now.”

  I hold her narrowed gaze until dawning lights in them. For a split second, the little lines around her eyes vanish and I almost think she might smile, but she recovers herself quickly.

  “Keywords: right now. I wasn’t born yesterday, Levi, so don’t presume me to be one of your nitwit groupies who can’t tell the difference between the truth and a crappy pickup line.”
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  With more strength than I would have guessed her to have, Vista places her hands on my chest and shoves. Knocking me off balance, I fall back a couple steps, just enough to give her room to pass.

  “So you’re saying I need to work on my technique?”

  Gripping the door, she’s practically seething as she stares up at me. “I’m saying you need to find yourself a different practice dummy.” Then she slams the door in my face.

  A smile tugs at my lips. Vista has more guts than I realized. No woman has ever turned me down. Up until last night, I thought that was pretty damn awesome. I never understood why some men got off on chasing women around, dating, and buying them things to earn their attention. Now, I’m beginning to appreciate the thrill of the chase. Is that what Vista’s looking for, a guy who will chase her?

  Leaning in, I push my face close to the door so I know she’ll hear me. “You know what I think, Vista?” Her silence only spurs me on. “I don’t think you want me to go away. I think you want me to chase you. Well, princess, you’ve got your wish, because you’re the only dummy I want to chase.”

  Something slams against the door and bounces twice on the floor. A shoe? Throwing my head back I belt out a laugh. Damn, she’s a spitfire.

  Game on.

  7

  That son of a bitch! He thinks he’s so funny. He won’t be laughing when I finally snap and lube up his shower floor with massage oil. Temporary insanity. No judge in the world would convict me.

  I’ve been finding little tokens of his humor around the penthouse all week. It started with the “Dating for Dummies” handbook, followed by a CD waiting on the foot of my bed after stepping out of the shower—Crash Test Dummies. Today, I answered the door to a bundle of white calla lilies delivered by a man dressed as a crash test dummy.

  I have to admit, the last surprise gave me a chuckle. Levi is pretty creative when it comes to winning a girl over, and I’m sure that’s exactly what he’s doing. I just don’t understand why. Why would he want me now, after all this time, when it was so easy for him to cast me aside before? If I were still a naïve eighteen year old girl I might be taken by all of this, but instead I just find it upsetting. I don’t want to be wooed, and I refuse to be snowed. Levi Black is good for a laugh, and that’s about all.