Dirty Jock

by Sienna Valentine

  But now she was here, after everything I’d done, so that she could save her brother—our brother.

  He is my brother now, technically, I thought, closing my eyes as I tried to gather my thoughts. But no matter what I came up with, my first instinct was to run.

  “Times change, Iris,” I said, waving my hand, though I wasn’t sure if I was trying to convince her, or myself. “I’m not just going to drop everything to help some punk kid I barely even knew.”

  Ugh, those words stung the second they left my lips. Okay, asshole. Dial it down a notch.

  Iris sighed, rubbing one side of her forehead with her forefinger as she shook her head. I could feel my heart sinking, but I couldn’t let her know how much I cared—she had to get away from me. After all, I was the one who had betrayed her. What the hell made her think I could fix everything now?

  “He needs you, Slade. He needs both of us,” she said, arms crossed over her chest. She was so goddamn hot, and no matter how I tried to look at her, I couldn’t stop imagining her with her legs wrapped around my waist, my cock sliding in and out of her warm pussy.

  No. Stop that. That isn’t fair. Not to her, or to you. Iris Walker was a prize I’d never win again, an opportunity I’d squandered. I swallowed hard and banished those enticing thoughts.

  “I can’t help him, Iris,” I said, glaring out the window that overlooked the hospital’s courtyard. “It’s not my problem. I stopped being a part of that family a long time ago.”

  “I’m not sure what’s happened to you between then and now,” she said, “but the Slade I knew wouldn’t have let a good kid like Kellan down like that. Despite what happened between you and me, saving our brother is more important than an old grudge. At least, I think so. After all, none of this would have happened if it weren’t for you.”

  I risked a glance at her again. Her wide eyes, her parted lips—everything in her expression was pleading for me to reconsider. But the longer she stared at me, the more I saw the expression of hope slide from her face until her eyes turned cold.

  “You can’t put all of this on me,” I told her. “Kellan is an adult now. He makes his own decisions, and I can’t do anything to change it. I’m not his goddamn father.”

  “You can help bring him back, Slade!” she cried, throwing her hands up. “Ever since you left, he’s been on a slow road to nowhere, just spiraling out of control. This is happening all because of what you did that day, and it’s time you learned to clean up your mess.”

  “Does he know about…?”

  “Us? God, no,” Iris said, a note of resentment in her voice as she started to pace in the confined space I’d caged her in. Iris felt much more mature than when I had left, more of an adult than I truly ever thought she would be. I couldn’t help but be turned on by how much she’d grown up. “At least, I don’t think that he knows. Dad and Mom told me that they were going to keep it a secret, but I think he knew there was more to you leaving than just a fight with your dad.”

  “Of course he knew there was more to it,” I scoffed as I turned my attention back toward the window. “My father was always a terrible liar, and Kellan was a smart kid—smarter than I ever expected, coming from a woman like your mother.”

  Iris made a sound from somewhere behind me, something between a growl and the clearing of her throat. It was a clear enough message: Watch what you say about my mother.

  “Regardless,” I began, waving her warning off, “I don’t see what I could do to help now. If he’s really in as deep as you say he is, then I don’t think that I’ll be able to save him. I mean, what am I supposed to do? Where do I start? Do you expect me to ground him? Isn’t he, like, twenty now?”

  “You could show him that you actually care, Slade,” Iris said, grabbing my arm and turning me back around to face her. “Maybe you don’t understand it, but Kellan thought the world of you, and having you back in his life just might be the thing that sets him straight again.”

  “And what if it doesn’t?” I asked, narrowing my eyes at her. “What if I show up and he never gets back to the person that he was? What if I make it worse?”

  “This is serious,” she said, glaring at me as she pulled her hand away like I’d burned her. “Don’t you get what’s happening? Kellan isn’t just smoking pot or hanging out with some ‘bad seeds.’ He’s throwing his life away. He goes out for days at a time, and when he manages to stumble back home, he’s high out of his mind. Mom and Dad are constantly worried, and when he’s home, all they do is shout at one another. This isn’t some rebellious phase, Slade. If he doesn’t get straight soon, he might die. And can you really live with that on your conscience, knowing that you could have helped save your own brother if you’d been enough of a man to accept responsibility?”

  It was certainly a fair enough question. Would I be able to live with myself while the only brother I had wasted away into some junkie who would probably die with a needle in his arm? Could I let that happen, knowing that there was a chance—however slim—that I could stop it?

  I remembered the way that Kellan would always watch me, imitate the way I moved and spoke. At first the kid freaked me out the way he’d just stare at me, this goofy smile on his face while I played Call of Duty with my friends. It wasn’t long after he saw me playing that he started to get into the same games, and before I knew it, we were going against one another from different rooms.

  Kellan would always tell me how cool I was for wanting to be a doctor, how he wanted to do the exact same thing when he got to be my age. I’d be lying if I said that I wasn’t flattered, and I really did like Kellan, and I tried whenever I could to give him brotherly advice. But that was then. Things had changed.

  Everything had changed.

  The fondness of those memories hurt in a way I hadn’t expected, my heart aching at the thought of what my leaving had done to that boy—my own stepbrother. I knew that I was an ass, but was I so much of an ass that I wouldn’t even lift a finger to help someone who thought of me as their hero?

  Who was I to him now? Some prick doctor? A womanizing jerk who he used to call his brother? It was exactly these kinds of questions I had been trying to avoid for the past few years, questions I knew I’d have to face when Iris showed up at my own figurative front door. Did I have the strength to confront the person I was?

  “I don’t know…” I said, casting my eyes to the floor as I continued to weigh my options. Was it better to let sleeping dogs lie? Or would it only make things worse to leave a problem like Kellan’s untreated?

  “Slade, I’m begging you,” Iris pleaded, her fingers resting gently over top of my bicep. It felt good to let her touch me. Too good. It was more than I deserved from her. “I don’t think that I’ll be able to reach him without your help.”

  “And what if you’re wrong? What if this all blows up in our faces and Kellan gets so upset that he goes off and shoots up so much that he ODs? What if I’m the reason that happens to him? Do you expect me to live with that?”

  “I don’t know, Slade!” she cried. “I don’t know how any of this is going to end! And neither do you. We either help him now, and have a chance at making him come back around to the brother we knew, or we can do nothing, in which case we know he’s just going to keep doing that crap until it kills him. I’d rather try and know that I did something than fail because I did nothing at all. That’s what you’re doing by saying no, Slade—you’re killing Kellan.”

  “Don’t put all of this on me. I didn’t tell him to—” I began, but Iris held up a hand to silence me.

  “Remember that quote you used to love?” she asked, looking up into my eyes, hers filled with a mixture of frustration and sadness. “‘All that is necessary for evil to triumph is—’”

  “‘For good men to do nothing,’” I finished, sighing as I closed my eyes as I rubbed at my temple again. No matter what I said, she always found a way to hit me right where it hurt, right in the few morals that I had left. “Yeah, I remember.”


  I knew, deep down, that nothing good would come of going back home, seeing the places I’d grown up and where I’d gone to school. I especially knew that spending time with Iris would only lead to trouble, trouble that would end in the two of us being hurt again. But at the same time I couldn’t deny that she was right. I’d never forgive myself if I was the only person who could help Kellan and I did nothing. It killed me that she still knew me so well, even after this long.

  “I’m not sure I can take the time off,” I said, trying one last time to convince her that I wasn’t the man for the job, even though we both knew that that was a lie. “I just finished my residency, Iris, I can’t really afford to take off now. I mean—”

  “Forget it,” she scoffed, shaking her head in what I thought was disgust. “Forget I even came here, Slade.”

  “Iris,” I said, frowning as she started to turn away, “Hold on!”

  “No!” she said, pushing my hand away as I reached out to stop her from leaving. “I’ve had it! Mom and Dad were right about you, and I was an idiot for even coming here in the first place. I’ll figure out what to do about Kellan on my own, and you can stay here and enjoy your new life. Alone, just like you like it.”

  We both stood there in silence, as if expecting the other to change their mind or back down. When neither of us did, Iris pursed her lips. Her shoulders slumped, like she’d suddenly took on the weight of the world.

  “Just forget I said anything,” she said, her voice a low whisper of rage as she turned and put her hand on the doorknob. A jab of panic rushed through me. I knew that if I let her walk out that door, I’d never see her again. Despite my talk and all my bullshit, I knew that I didn’t want that to happen.

  “Stop,” I said, making Iris freeze in place, the door halfway open. “I’ll do it. I’m going to regret this. Hell, I’m pretty sure we both will. But I’ll do it, Iris.” I stepped closer, taking the doorknob from her hand. “But I’m doing it for Kellan. Not for you.”

  I opened the door, striding down the hall toward the hospital’s human resources department. I’d just lied to my stepsister, but it was for a damn good cause. I couldn’t afford to get her hopes up or make her feel special. The last time I’d done that, it ended in tragedy. And I wasn’t about to make the same mistake all over again.

  Still, I couldn’t help but feel like that was exactly what I was doing by going back home.

  Chapter 5

  Iris

  Everything that had happened in the past few hours, everything I’d experienced since stepping off a plane and into the hospital where my stepbrother worked, left me with a single, burning question.

  What the hell is wrong with Slade Jarvis?

  I’d practically had to twist his arm to get him to come back home and help his family, his own flesh and blood. Well, okay, not his flesh and blood. Not all of us, anyway. But that didn’t change the fact that we were family, and some of us took our responsibilities seriously, and silly me, I’d thought some big-shot doctor would be one of those people.

  Slade hadn’t changed a bit. No, wait, maybe he had. He sure as hell seemed like a bigger ass than I remembered.

  Hotter than ever, too.

  No. I couldn’t be thinking that. Not after the shit he’d pulled. I mean, hell, the world has enough doctors in it, yet Slade acted like without him, the whole damn hospital would fall apart. Like the only reason I’d shown up there—taken a plane!—was to “ooh” and “aah” over his medical prowess and swoon into his waiting arms. Not that Slade’s arms were actually waiting for me. No, he’d made it pretty clear he got his fill of feminine company on the regular.

  Meanwhile, poor Iris Walker hadn’t had so much as a date in… what, a year? My cheeks reddened and I slumped against the window, trying to focus my attention and thoughts on anywhere but Slade.

  It wasn’t easy with him sitting right beside me. Less so with the way he flirted with every stewardess on her way by. Christ, he was insufferable.

  Not that any of that should have bothered me. Slade was a free man. He certainly wasn’t my boyfriend, and God willing, he never would be. He had as much of a right as anyone else to hit on anything with a pulse. Still, he could at least refrain from doing it in front of me, what with our history and all.

  Which was exactly why a part of me wanted to call him on it. Ask him, “Hey, bro, remember that time you fucked me in the pool house just to piss off your dad? What the hell was that about?” I wanted to throw my ginger ale in his face and remind him, very loudly, that he’d ruined my damn life. Practically ruined me for all other men. But I was afraid of giving him too much credit.

  I was also afraid of getting an answer.

  I sighed and pressed my forehead to the window, staring into the clouds. I hated myself for the way I’d idealized him over the past seven years, how I’d imagined this all going so very differently. I’d show up, Slade would feel guilty for what he’d done, we’d reconcile maybe, and then… I was ashamed to admit it, but maybe he would have healed my broken heart, the void he’d left behind when he walked out on me that day. Or otherwise, I’d show up at the hospital and Slade would have gotten fat and I wouldn’t be feeling this embarrassing level of need in the first place. It was wrong and stupid on so many levels that I couldn’t even begin to count.

  But it wouldn’t go away. No matter how much logic I threw at it, no matter how many times I brought the memory of how Slade had used me to the forefront of my mind, nothing quelled the low flame of desire burning in my belly.

  You asshole, I thought, stealing a glance at Slade as he chatted up yet another stewardess, who burst into a fit of laughter at one of his lewd jokes. I really thought you were falling for me. My stepbrother was one hell of an actor, too—I’d never felt that way about anyone since.

  You’re idealizing him again, I reminded myself, chewing on some of the ice from my ginger ale. You’ve talked to him. Who he is now, not seven years ago, is what matters. And who he is now is a guy who’s clearly never lost a minute of sleep over what he did to you, or how he tore apart your family. Hell, he could barely even muster enough human decency to give a shit about Kellan.

  Kellan. Right. That was what this was all about. Whatever past I had with Slade be damned—my missing, hot mess of a little brother was way more important than any of that.

  I tuned into reality just in time to hear Slade say, “Trust me, sweetheart, you’ve got nothing to worry about. That body of yours is perfectly healthy. I’m a doctor, so I should know.”

  His latest victim’s eyes went wide as she clung to the snack cart. “A doctor, huh? Wow. I mean, you look so young!”

  Slade was practically bursting at the seams with smugness now. “Yeah, I got accepted to Harvard medical at twenty-one. Graduated top of my class, too.”

  The stewardess—Mandy, I learned, by way of her nametag, jiggling above her bouncing breasts—giggled. “So you’re not just a doctor. You’re, like, some Doogie Howser-style genius?”

  The corners of Slade’s lips quirked. “More like House, M.D.”

  I rolled my eyes so hard I was sure they’d come flying out of my head and roll down the aisle. Clearly, Slade’s ego knew no bounds.

  “Could you not be so annoying?” I hissed as soon as Mandy the Stewardess was out of earshot. “I mean, I know it’s hard for you, but could you try?”

  “Oh, it’s definitely hard,” Slade replied, looking pointedly at Mandy’s rear, “but not for me.” He adjusted his obvious, sizeable erection and my jaw dropped. Pig!

  “Stop looking at it, if it bothers you so much,” he continued and I narrowed my eyes at him. “Or is that pretty, open mouth of yours an invitation?”

  I clamped my jaws shut so hard the sound of my teeth impacting echoed through the cabin, and Slade laughed, long and loud. I wanted to open up my window and throw myself out, parachute be damned. This was torture. And I still had another three hours of it to endure.

  Was this what it would be like, having Slade back? I trie
d to look at the bright side: at least I’d probably never fantasize about him again.

  “I’m so glad we no longer live in the same house,” I muttered, shooting my best scowl his way. Slade feigned that he was hurt. “You’re an even bigger dick than you were when you were eighteen. A few hours in close quarters with you is quite enough.”

  Slade smirked. “Can’t control yourself, huh?” He balled up the paper from his straw and tossed it straight into my ginger ale cup, then laughed. “Yeah, I have that effect on women. You’re just gonna have to get used to it, sweetheart.”

  “Please don’t call me that,” I groused, fishing the paper ball out of my cup with my nails. By the time I’d removed it, he’d balled up the wrapper for his crackers and tossed that at me, too. This time, it went straight down the front of my shirt.

  “Want me to get that?” Slade asked, leaning closer over the empty seat between us. “Sweetheart?”