Lock Step: An Enemies to Lovers Accidental Roommates Stepbrother Romance

by Jamie Knight

  But, ugh, that was easier said than done.

  Was this what I had to look forward to in the future? A broken marriage and then a remarriage after I cheated on my husband? No way. I was not going down that path.

  Suddenly, Phil started approaching me and I lost my nerve. Maybe it was better if we both forgot about the whole incident. We could pretend it never happened and just go on with our lives. People do that, right?

  “Hey, uh, Tracianne, you have a minute to—”

  “Sorry! No. Bye,” I replied, turning too quickly in the hallway and running into a wall instead of through a doorway. “Busy!”

  It was then that I went back to my resolution not to talk to Phil at all. If I avoided him long enough, he’d give up and that would be that.

  Sure, we’d exchange awkward looks around the dinner table once in a while, but eventually that would fade. I was just being paranoid to think our parents would pick up on our big secret. They would never think we’d actually do that!

  Plus, this pandemic would be under control sooner or later, and we’d end up going back to college. Who knows? Maybe they already had found a cure for the virus and hadn’t announced it yet.

  I locked myself in my room and searched for information on the Internet about the virus. There was lots of talk about what to do, but no one seemed to be able to agree on anything but locking everyone down for two weeks to “flatten the curve.”

  Great. Now I was definitely stuck in this house for another two weeks!

  Maybe I could do what Diamond did and sneak out. I could go to Jersey City and hook up with her boyfriend’s friend. Maybe start something up with him and then that would send a clear message to Phil.

  He’d see me with another guy and then he’d be too afraid to make a move or say anything. I mean, it wasn’t like he was in love with me, right? I just needed to keep the distance between us.

  Socially distant to the max!

  But I knew I could never work up the nerve to sneak out or hook up with a stranger during a pandemic. It wasn’t even something I did during normal times. It was a desperate thought to try to get Phil out of my head, but it didn’t work.

  If I was being honest with myself, I had to admit that he was the only person I had the hots for. I wouldn’t be able to get with another guy without wishing it was him.

  Fuck.

  What had I gotten myself into?

  I was so stupid!

  I wished I could hibernate until we could return to campus.

  Unfortunately, though, I couldn’t hide in my room forever. Eventually, I had to come out to use the bathroom or grab some food.

  I decided I would peek out of my doorway, make sure Phil wasn’t in the hall and then sneak downstairs in my socks. I was convinced he was in his room since the door was shut, so I was safe.

  But then, boom! There he was.

  “Hey, Tracianne,” he said, obviously trying to engage again.

  No, I wouldn’t let him.

  “Sorry, gotta go,” I said quickly, rushing out of the room and into the nearest doorway.

  This time, I found myself in the pantry. It was pretty large, and I wasn’t by myself. To my surprise, I found Daphne in the room, sobbing on the floor.

  “Oh, sorry,” I muttered. “I guess you’re using the pantry. I’ll go.”

  “No, Tracianne, please,” she begged. “Can we talk?”

  I wanted to leave, but talking to Daphne was probably easier. Plus, I did feel bad that she was crying in here all alone. What the hell was that about?

  “Yeah, sure,” I agreed. “Are you okay? Why are you crying?”

  “I just, well, I’m trying to be a good mother and I— I feel like I’m failing you!” she cried.

  “Oh, no, you’re not,” I said gingerly. “You’re my stepmother, so it’s different.”

  “You probably hate me!” she exclaimed.

  “No-no-no,” I assured her. “I just, well, this is an adjustment for me.”

  “Me too,” she sniffed. “I didn’t think it would be this hard.”

  Now I felt really bad. God, maybe Phil was right. I was a total brat. A huge bitch, really. I had certainly done everything I could to alienate Daphne. I wasn’t even happy at her and my dad’s wedding and I usually love weddings. Maybe it was time not to make this all about me.

  “Daphne, I’m sorry,” I sighed. “Maybe I have been rough on you. I didn’t mean to be a jerk, but— it’s hard.”

  “I know.”

  “I think you’re a nice person and my dad loves you a lot, so, I just—” I took a big breath, not sure what to say— “Baby steps, right?”

  “Sure,” she sniffed.

  I sat down next to her on the pantry floor.

  “Oh, this is nice,” I noted. “It’s cool down here. Is there where you come to cry?”

  “Not normally. I mean, I’m not normally crying,” she explained. “I used to be happy. Back when I was your age.”

  “Phil thinks you’re a wonderful mother,” I offered.

  “He said that?”

  “Well, we don’t talk much,” I admitted, not wanting to lie too much. “It’s certainly implied. You know how men are when it comes to expressing their feelings.”

  “I don’t think women are all that great at it either,” she confessed. “You know, I always wanted a daughter. Not instead of Phil, of course, but I mean, like, another kid. I thought maybe we could do girly things, like go shopping or go get our hair done.”

  “That sounds nice,” I agreed.

  Well, I guessed I could do a shopping date with her. I mean, I felt like I owed her a nice day out.

  What would be the big deal, right?

  We’d go to brunch, then hit the mall, buy some stuff, maybe go to Starbucks. After the lockdown was over and things opened back up again, of course.

  I mean, you’d have to be made of stone not to enjoy an afternoon like that, right? I could use a good shopping trip. And it wasn’t like my dad was going to take me.

  “You don’t have to, if you think you need to be nice to me.”

  “No, I want to go,” I insisted. “I think we’d have a good time. You like T.J. Maxx?”

  “The one right by the mall? Yeah. I wonder when they’ll be open again.”

  “I can’t imagine they’ll keep all the stores and the whole mall closed forever,” I said hopefully. “I mean, people have to buy stuff, right?”

  “That’s true. We’ll see what happens in the future, but I’d like to go there with you,” she said, smiling. “And in the meantime, how’s schoolwork going?”

  “Good, actually. It’s pretty easy now that everything’s online. Most people have the answers and start emailing them to me before the professor can fully explain what the assignment is.”

  “Did the virus really disrupt things for you on campus?”

  “Yeah. I had friends there. We were close.”

  “What about boys? Were you seeing anyone?”

  “Not really,” I said, worried that she’d keep pressing. I hoped I wasn’t blushing! “I just wanted to catch up on my schoolwork.”

  “Really? Not even one boy? At college, my God, the guys just seemed to be everywhere.”

  “Yeah, they kind of are,” I agreed. “There was this one guy. Jared. But I made a fool of myself in front of him. Had a little too much to drink.”

  “That usually ends up with someone waking up looking the fool.”

  “I was tempted, but no,” I admitted. “Jared was a cool guy. I don’t know. Maybe when I get back. Seems like we’re so far from that.”

  “I know,” agreed Daphne. “Another two weeks at least. They’re talking about keeping the state closed through most of the month.”

  “Wow, that’s too long, I think.”

  “There’s a big fight about it on the news,” Daphne relayed. “I don’t follow it all very closely, but it sounds like politics is getting in the way.”

>   “Doesn’t it always?”

  “Yeah,” she agreed. “Look, Tracianne, this might be uncomfortable to talk about, but I’m going to breach the subject.”

  Oh, no. Where is this going?

  “Okay,” I said, stupidly following her into what sounded like it was going to be a very cringe moment.

  “I mean, since you mentioned not hooking up with any guys, if you need it, there are plenty of sites where you can order a vibrator,” she offered.

  Woah. Shit. Now I was back to thinking she was just plain nuts.

  “Daphne, I don’t think we’re at the stage in our relationship yet where I can discuss vibrators with you,” I confessed, after a pause. “Please don’t pursue this.”

  “All right, but if you need any advice…”

  “I’m fine,” I said, trying to move past it.

  “Okay, but we can talk about these things. We’re both women.”

  “Yeah, but I’m not comfortable, okay?”

  “I get it, but—”

  “Really not comfortable,” I insisted.

  “Okay, I guess, if you don’t want to hear about this new position I heard about,” she tempted.

  “What? No!” I exclaimed. “Daphne, this is too personal for me. And you said you wanted to mother me. Go ahead, but don’t mention the V word again, please.”

  “But it’s important for your health.”

  “So is broccoli, but I don’t buy it every day.”

  “Dildos are an option.”

  “Oh, my God! Stop. Please,” I begged her. “You’re making this so uncomfortable. We were having a nice chat in the pantry.”

  “I just want you to know that you can talk about anything with me,” she kept insisting. “I’m here for you.”

  “Yes, I get it, but just— baby steps, Daphne. Remember? Baby steps,” I urged. “And in all honestly, there are some things I don’t think I’ll ever feel comfortable talking about with anyone else, mother figure or not. Don’t take it personally. It’s just a ‘me’ thing.”

  “Okay. I understand. Can I get a hug at least?”

  She put out her arms. I gave her a hug because I could tell she was just trying to connect with me, in her totally oddball way. But I really wanted to get out of the pantry and go anywhere else now.

  “Thanks,” she said.

  “Let’s get out of here,” I offered. “Let’s have a snack to celebrate our new understanding.”

  “Ice cream?”

  Anything to end this conversation.

  “Yes, sounds great,” I replied.

  “I think Phil and I were going to play a game of Scrabble to pass the quarantine time,” she said. “Would you be interested in joining us?”

  “Oh, no thank you,” I said, the name “Phil” making the hair on my arms stand up. “Dad said he needed my help with technology, so I’m going to head over there and see what I can do, as soon as we have our celebratory snack.”

  “Okay,” she pouted. “But one of these days, you’ll have to bond with us over board games.”

  “Sure, one of these days,” I lied, hoping that day would never come to pass.

  Chapter Eleven - Phil

  Playing Scrabble with Mom was a bit of a challenge. We had both gotten really good at the game since we played Words with Friends on our phones all the time.

  Tracianne and Richard were in the study. Richard needed her to set up his computer for a Zoom meeting or something.

  Sometime around the third game, the topic came up as it always did. I think the wooden letters she put down on the board spelled out the word “abandon.” I guess I must have made a face.

  “What? That’s spelled right. Are you challenging?” she asked.

  “No, just that word. Makes me think of you and Dad,” I said.

  “Oh,” she said, realizing we were about to have the same conversation. “If you want to talk, Phil, you can talk to me. Ask me anything.”

  “Why’d you leave Dad?” I asked. “Don’t give me the kid reason. Give me the grown-up reason. The real reason.”

  I kept my voice low. The last thing I wanted was for this conversation to be overheard by Tracianne and Richard on the other side of the house.

  “Oh, Phil,” she said, looking down. “There were things that, well, you were too young and you wouldn’t see them.”

  “Like what?”

  “Your dad was a trucker, as you know, and I was alone with you,” she explained. “It was tough raising a kid all the time by myself. And that’s the way I felt. I felt like a single mother with no support.”

  “But Dad was working,” I countered. “He was working for us. To provide a good home and support. He called from the road all the time.”

  “It’s not enough, Phil,” she said, looking down again. “It was mental torture for me, always waiting for your father to come back home. I was married and I felt alone. And even when he was home, he was emotionally unavailable.”

  “What does that mean?” I scoffed. “That just sounds like a buzzword some psychologist throws around to get people to come see them and give them their hard-earned money. You mean he didn’t pay attention to you?”

  “I guess. Phil, I was alone for hours, days, weeks!” she said, raising her voice a little and then calming down. “When I got married, I thought I would be building and living a life, a family, with your father, but I wasn’t. I was always just waiting for him instead. I couldn’t take it anymore.”

  “So, what, you needed constant attention? I mean, how was he supposed to change anything and still make a living, Mom?” I asked, trying to understand. “What would you have him do?”

  “I don’t know, Phil,” she said, sounding already exhausted on the subject. “I just— I needed someone around. Richard was there for me. He’s here now. And looking back on it, Richard’s a better fit for me. I care deeply about your dad, I really do, but Richard and I are on a different level. We’re in sync and we’re very happy.”

  “You don’t seem that happy, Mom,” I countered.

  “Did I seem happy with your father?”

  I wasn’t expecting that question. But I guessed I deserved it. What choice did I have if this was going to be a “real” conversation, right? I couldn’t pick and choose what I wanted to hear.

  I stammered, trying to stall for time, but by the expression on her face, you could tell that she had cornered me.

  “Okay,” I confessed. “You didn’t seem happy. I will admit, you seem happier with Richard, but what about dad?”

  “Your father’s a grown man,” she explained. “He can deal with loss and divorce. He’ll find someone else and it’s not like he would take me back, even if I did want to get back together with him. Which I don’t, by the way. Let me make that clear.”

  “Yeah, got it.”

  “This is not a game,” she added. “This is my life. My real life. And I want to be happy. Don’t I deserve to be? Don’t we all deserve to be happy?”

  “I guess,” I sighed, still not really getting it, and wishing I had never started the conversation.

  Just then Tracianne walked into the room and Mom and I abruptly stopped talking. She asked for the code to the computer modem’s router. Mom had it written down on a tiny notebook in the junk drawer.

  “You know what? I’ll go and get it. Here, why don’t you finish my game of Scrabble?” Mom offered Tracianne. “I’ll get the password for Richard. And I have to finish up the laundry before dinner. If Phil doesn’t mind that you take my place in the game.”

  “No-no, that’s fine,” I said, trying to keep the mood light so that she wouldn’t suspect anything.

  “Okay then. What’s the score?” asked Tracianne.

  I could tell that she didn’t really want to do this, but she was going along with it to keep suspicions at bay, just as I was.

  Mom walked out of the room, apparently satisfied that Tracianne had taken her place. I was sure she was going to
gloat to Dad that she had finally managed to force Tracianne and I to do something together. If only she knew the half of it!

  “I’m at 65 and you’re at 61,” I explained. “It’s a pretty tight game.”

  “I see. You like it… tight?” she asked.

  Is she flirting with me? Tracianne was hot, but what happened in the car— that could get us both in a lot of trouble.

  Sure, I loved it, and my cock was so hard it was ready to go all the way with her. But once I had my senses about me, I knew it had been way too reckless.

  I had tried to talk to Tracianna about it and she had avoided me. Now, here she was playing this innuendo game.

  To be honest, I was a little distracted. Mom hadn’t really given me the answers I wanted. It wasn’t that I thought she was being dishonest, but it was more like even she really didn’t understand either. Maybe we were both out of our depth when it came to relationships.

  “Hello?” Tracianne urged. “Are you going to take your turn or what?”

  “Yeah, relax,” I said. “This isn’t a game where you rush people.”

  I finally put down the only word I could make.

  “Bang.”

  Tracianne giggled and then started laughing uncontrollably.

  “What?” I asked. “You’re being weird.”

  “Nothing,” she laughed. “Nothing.”

  She immediately put down another word.

  “Lick.”

  She then noticeably licked her lips.

  Or at least I thought she did.

  Was I imagining this?

  Maybe I needed to go upstairs and spend more time with my hand. I began to think my blue balls must have backed up into my brain. Or perhaps I could play this game. Turn the tables on her.

  “That’s a nice lick,” I commented.

  “Well, who doesn’t enjoy that?”

  I countered with my own word, “Scream”.

  “Something I imagine you’d do after having someone do your word,” I noted.

  “Probably ending with this, hopefully,” she said, showing three letters.

  She spelled out the word, “Cum.”