SCORE (A Stepbrother Sports Romance)

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SCORE (A Stepbrother Sports Romance) Page 4

by Mia Carson


  Walking upstairs, I ignored the couples making out. I stood alone, trying to calm myself down, and finally decided to just go home. I wasn’t having much fun watching Alyssa get hot and heavy with one of my teammates. I pushed through the horny college students on the stairs and froze as Brad suddenly appeared, pulling a girl upstairs.

  I was surprised it wasn’t Alyssa and immediately wondered where she was. I made my way across the dance floor, searching the crowd. I stumbled outside the frat house, worrying that I hadn’t found her inside. Then I spotted her as I turned to go back into the house. She wasn’t too far away, standing alone.

  I hurried over to her. “Alyssa!”

  She looked at me, and I saw tears pouring down her face. “What?” she asked, sniffling and wiping away tears.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked her, placing my hand gently on her arm.

  “Nothing…it’s stupid.” Her voice was shaky and quiet.

  “Is it Brad?” I asked quietly. She nodded, the tears flowing more freely. I reached out and folded her into my arms. “C’mon. Let me take you home.” I guided her to my car.

  As we drove home, she explained through her tears how Brad had made a move on her but that she didn’t want to sleep with him. She told me he ditched her after calling her a bitch and refusing to give her a ride home.

  “I’m so sorry, 'Lyssa,” I said, angry at Brad for treating her like that. She deserved so much better.

  “I’m just tired of guys not liking actually me and only wanting to sleep together,” she said, her voice hollow and sad.

  I bit my lip against the instinctive assurances and the smoldering anger, wanting to tell her that I liked her—and maybe more—but I kept my mouth shut. I helped her inside and upstairs.

  Once we were in her bedroom, she sat down. She looked up at me. “Blake, can you stay with me tonight?” Her eyes stared at me, desperate and pleading. She looked so vulnerable and so helpless that I couldn’t leave her. So I crawled into the bed with her, holding her tightly as she cried herself to sleep.

  As I laid awake, holding her in my arms and watching her innocent face as she slept, I felt something stir inside of me. No one had ever made me feel so protective—bordering on possessive—and I vowed to myself that I would make it my responsibility to make sure no one ever hurt her again.

  “You deserve so much better,” I whispered to her, kissing her forehead lightly before falling asleep.

  Alyssa

  I jerked awake, the sunlight pouring through the window hurting my eyes. I was immediately aware of strong, warm arms around me, and I lifted my head. Blake held me close, even though he was fast asleep. I sat up quickly, my body immediately cold without his next to mine. Worried that our parents might notice, I quickly shook him awake. He opened his eyes, and I clambered out of the bed, hissing, “Hey, you have to get out of here.”

  He rolled out of my bed and slumped to his bedroom without a word, and I went into my bathroom to take a much-needed shower. I struggled with a hollow, empty feeling inside myself. Being held so comfortingly had made me feel so safe, and I felt a deep longing to be back in his arms…almost as if I belonged there.

  After an hour, I headed downstairs to find my father and Debbie in the living room. I said a quick good morning and went to the kitchen to start a pot of coffee.

  I looked at my phone for the first time in twelve hours. I had a bunch of unanswered texts from Maggie. I simply texted her back, Meet up for lunch to talk? I made my coffee as I waited for her to reply, and when she did, I grabbed my car keys, grateful to get out of the house without having to face Blake. I needed time to deal with my budding emotions, and I didn’t know how to interpret his actions. Was he just being protective like a brother? The way he held me last night made me think otherwise.

  I was crunching on a salad as Maggie drilled me with questions. My body was grateful for the food, and my headache faded. “Look, I’m just done with guys for a while,” I said to her after she ranted for twenty minutes about what had happened between Brad and me.

  “I don’t blame you,” she agreed, then asked curiously, “So how did you get home?”

  Staring intently at my salad, I said, “Blake was there. I rode home with him.”

  “Wasn’t he with his girlfriend?” Maggie asked, disgust in her voice.

  Maggie had hated Brittney since we were in high school together. Brittney had been horrible to me all senior year, and she was always making nasty comments. I was over it, but Maggie tended to be a little more dramatic than me.

  I thought about the party, remembering that Blake was with Brittney at the beginning and that they had seemed pretty close, dancing together and her clinging onto him throughout the night. I wondered if they had gotten into an argument or something. I shook my head and told Maggie, “I don’t really remember what happened. It was late, and I wasn’t exactly sober.”

  Maggie and I finished lunch and headed to the mall to do some shopping. I didn’t really need anything, but I wanted to avoid going home for as long as possible. We were walking around the mall when my phone vibrated with a text message from my father. Family dinner. Be home by 6.

  With a sigh, I told Maggie we had to go soon, and I had a nagging feeling in my stomach as I drove home. I walked in the house, greeting my father and Debbie, and took my bags upstairs. I quickly changed and headed back down.

  “So, where we going?” I asked, joining them, noticing Blake still wasn’t downstairs.

  “Your father made reservations at a new restaurant downtown,” Debbie said, smiling at him.

  “Great.” Our traipsing round the mall had made me hungry. As casually as possible, I asked, “Is Blake joining us?”

  “Absolutely.” A snarky voice came from behind me. I whipped around to see Blake descending the stairs.

  “Alrighty then,” Dad said, and we followed him outside and piled into his SUV.

  I spent the long ride to the restaurant contemplating whether or not I should talk to Blake about last night. We seemed to have a really bad habit of ignoring the things we did and not talking about them. Obviously, this wasn’t working, and we kept finding ourselves in the same confusing, hazy situations, patching over everything and not dealing with our emotions. It didn’t feel clever or healthy, so I decided I would try and talk to him after dinner, a heavy knot roiling in my stomach just thinking about it. Getting everything out in the open would put everyone back in the place they belonged.

  After a long dinner of catching up with my father and Debbie, I was relieved to finally get home. I thanked Dad for dinner and went upstairs, my hands clammy and a little shaky at the prospect of talking to Blake. Taking a deep breath, I knocked on his door, and he yelled for me to come in.

  “Hey.” I greeted him, entering the room. He was playing a video game and paused it. Tossing the controller aside, he looked at me expectantly. I crossed my arms, shifting awkwardly. My palms were sweaty, and I was nervous, starting to doubt the effectiveness of this idea. I stayed where I was, forcing myself to do what needed to be done.

  “What’s up?” Blake asked with a frown after my silence stretched uncomfortably.

  “Look, Blake…” I began awkwardly. “I want to talk about last night.”

  He didn’t say anything for a moment. He looked bewildered and even a little embarrassed by the mention of our emotional moment. “Don’t worry about it,” he finally said nonchalantly, trying to smooth over the situation with his usual, cool-guy persona. “We were both drinking, and you were upset about Brad.”

  “Right,” I said, shaking my head slowly. “I just feel like we have to be…more careful.” My tone was neutral, but his look told me he knew I meant the past incidents between us. Something flickered in his eyes, and I looked away, trying not to think about the hot, desperate kisses we had shared. “It’s just… Our parents seem really happy, and I think we’re going to have to be around each other for a long time. I don’t want to risk complicat
ing anything,” I said, watching his reaction carefully.

  Blake nodded. “Don’t worry about it, kid. We both know it didn’t mean anything.”

  “Right,” I replied softly, knowing that, for me at least, it had meant something.

  ***

  Over the next few weeks, I could feel a distance growing between the two of us. Except for our weekly tutoring sessions, I avoided Blake as much as possible, which proved to be relatively easy, considering our busy lives. It was hard to describe, but the more I forced myself away from Blake, the emptier I felt, as if he filled some sort of deep and desperate void inside me.

  I shook my head. I had spaced out thinking about Blake again. It was the week before finals, and I was studying as much as possible, but I just couldn’t focus. I let out a sigh and flipped through my book, grateful winter vacation was just around the corner.

  Thirsty, I decided to go get some water, grateful to pull my attention from the textbook in front of me. I waltzed downstairs but stopped halfway down. I could hear angry voices floating up the staircase. I stayed where I was, listening intently, indulging my curiosity.

  “How can you still be doing this badly?” I heard Debbie ask exasperatedly.

  Blake returned a snarky comment. “Whatever. I’m trying, okay? Just back off.”

  “Back off?” she asked coldly. “This is your future, Blake. You can’t just half-ass it.”

  There was silence for a moment. My father’s voice, gentler and more yielding then Debbie’s, said, “You study with Alyssa, right? Maybe you guys need to work harder, study more often.”

  Blake’s voice was quiet as he responded, “I feel bad. She’s already doing so much. I can’t ask her for more help.”

  “Blake, please think about this,” Debbie said desperately. “This is your future. You have to do better. You simply have to.”

  “We’ll figure it out, Blake,” my father reassured him.

  The conversation ended, and I heard movements. I quickly shot back upstairs, not wanting to get caught eavesdropping. I was walking into my room as Blake walked up the stairs.

  “Hey,” he greeted, trying to disguise his bitter tone with nonchalance.

  “Hi,” I replied, giving him a small smile because I felt bad for him. He turned to go in his bedroom and impulsively I called out, “Hey, Blake?”

  He spun around slowly and walked over to me. “What’s up?” he asked expectantly.

  I bit my lip before answering, wondering if offering him more help would be good for us. I knew he wouldn’t ask me, and I genuinely wanted to help him. “Listen… I overheard the conversation with our parents.” I internally flinched at the mention of our parents because I didn’t want to be reminded that Blake and I were technically siblings. I looked up at him with kind eyes and said, “Look, Blake, I want to help you.”

  His face lit up automatically, which made my heart swell with joy. “Really?” he asked quickly. “You don’t mind?”

  I shook my head with a small laugh. “No, it’s fine. I have to study anyway, so it’s not a big deal.”

  “Thanks,” he said, his tone sincere. “I really appreciate it.”

  I couldn’t tear myself away from his gaze, enjoying the kind, happy moment between us. We stood at the threshold of my bedroom, our bodies close, which incited a warm feeling inside of me, like I’d just come home from somewhere far away. This was the proximity I had been craving for weeks. I wanted to reach out and touch him, but I resisted the urge. I should have felt silly or even embarrassed at my blatant attraction to Blake, but he carried himself with the same familiar tension. His jaw was clenched tightly, and his beautiful green eyes were filled with an intensity that stirred a mirrored response within me.

  He smiled at me, his face almost wistful in its demeanor, and whispered, “I miss you, kid.”

  I watched him walk away after his admission, and I sighed and shut the door, murmuring, “You, too.”

  I sat down on my bed, light and dizzy from the moment of nearness with Blake. He misses me, I thought with a smile. Regardless, it felt good to know he wanted me in some way, but I quickly reminded myself of our previous conversation. Those kisses we shared meant nothing to him. There was no point in analyzing his words any further, but a hollow loneliness lingered, weighing me down. With a sigh, I turned back to my textbook, not sure what to expect from the week ahead.

  Blake

  In danger of getting kicked off the football team and losing my scholarship, I was grateful to Alyssa for offering to study more with me. I hated the vulnerability of needing help. I was so used to being in control and being so needy and exposed went against my usual actions. She had already been so kind and helpful to me, but the more time I spent with her, the more addicted I became. I was so intoxicated by her beauty, her laugh, her smell… And she was so smart. She was all of these things, and she was also forbidden, which made her so much more irresistible.

  I was relieved that Alyssa had agreed to help me study and wondered if she felt the same excitement I did about the excuse to be near each other. If I was going to save my scholarship and stay on the team, I would have to work hard and make good use of my study time. I had to focus, despite my anticipation about being with her. But first, working out seemed like a good solution to ease the pent-up tension that had left me feeling restless and angry.

  In push-up after push-up, I lowered my body to the ground and back up. I was covered in sweat, and my muscles ached. I had been at the gym for a few hours, trying to work through all my frustrations. I stood up, breathing heavily, angry and frustrated. With a sigh, I walked to the locker room, hoping a shower would relieve some more stress.

  I slept well that night and woke up refreshed and relaxed. It was the first good night’s sleep I’d had in a while. I got ready quickly and bounded downstairs. Alyssa sat at the table, already dressed and drinking a glass of orange juice. She looked up and smiled when I entered the room. I grabbed a piece of toast from the table and gave my mom a quick kiss goodbye.

  Alyssa looked so incredibly cute. Her hair was pulled away from her face into a high ponytail, and she wore a short pink skirt that revealed her gorgeous legs. She caught me looking at her, and I said, “Do you want to carpool today since we’re staying late to study?”

  Over the past few weeks, we had been taking our own cars to school because of our different schedules, but also because of the space we had deliberately put between us. She nodded and said, “Yeah, we can take my car.”

  Jumping up from the table, she said a quick goodbye to our parents and grabbed her backpack, beaming at me. I followed her out to the car, and as we got in, the tension immediately raised a few notches and my chest tightened. She hummed lightly while driving, and I wondered if her good mood had anything to do with me.

  I smiled, watching her, and she looked over at me with a small laugh. “What are you looking at?” she asked before returning her eyes to the road.

  “Just wondering why you’re in such a good mood,” I responded with what I knew was a sly smile.

  She laughed again, and I reveled in the light tinkling sound, thinking about how I could listen to it for hours. “I just think today is going to be a good day,” she replied, her voice light and airy.

  “Me, too.” I felt as light and untroubled as she did. When we pulled up to the school, I got out of the car and waved, resisting a childish urge to skip to class.

  I rushed through my classes, hot energy coursing through me as I walked down to practice. In the locker room, I greeted the other players and changed, my body like a roaring engine ready to take a run down the highway. As I headed out, a voice called out to me, “Yo, Blake!”

  Matt, one of the football players, had yelled my name. “What’s up, dude?”

  “Hey man, are you going to the after party for the game on Friday?”

  “I don’t know. Finals are next week. I have to pass,” I said tentatively.

  Matt groaned and said
, “C’mon, dude! Don’t be lame.”

  I let out a sigh, knowing he was probably right. What was the point of trying so hard to keep my quarterback position if I messed up my reputation? I nodded and said, “Totally. I’ll be there.”

  “Sweet,” Matt answered, and in a more curious tone, he asked, “Hey, I see you with that Alyssa girl a lot. Are you guys hooking up or something?”

  My face heated, and I automatically responded in a serious tone, “No.”

  Matt looked taken aback by my tone and said, “Oh, sorry. I just see you guys together a lot and I assumed.”

  I had been too quick to jump on the defense and adjusted my tone of voice. “No, it’s cool.” I shrugged and added, “She’s actually my stepsister.”

  The term felt so foreign and wrong on my tongue. Alyssa was so much more than just a stepsister to me. A deep, plunging guilt pushed into my stomach as I realized just how blind I had been so far. Having to say that Alyssa was my stepsister out loud made our whole situation so much more real. It not only terrified me but also made me feel a deep sadness because it reinforced the thought that was always churning in the back of mind: the fact that she could never be mine.

  Matt’s voice pulled me from my depressing reality, asking in a casual tone, “So do you know if she’s single?”

  My muscles tensed, and my face hardened. “Why?” Matt blinked and took a step back, obviously confused by my behavior. I added quickly, “Uh…I mean, she is. I just was wondering why.”

  Matt laughed awkwardly. “Well, you should bring her to the party. She seems cool.”

  I let out a low breath and put on my best fake smile. “Yeah, sure, man. I’ll ask her.”

  Matt jogged off towards the field for practice. I let out another sigh as I followed, annoyed at the envy and rage in my heart. I felt the need to protect Alyssa after what had happened with Brad. Part of me felt responsible, even though I knew it was an irrational feeling. I wanted so badly to protect her but hated the possessiveness that came over me. The whole situation was out of my control. All I knew was that I never wanted to see her hurt like that again.

 

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