Wicked Stepbrother (Book Three)

by Lila Price

  “I know, I know,” Jacob said, though he looked wary. “I’m just wondering if I should be careful. Maybe take some more time off.”

  Mr. And Ms. Everett looked like they’d been slapped. They met one another’s eyes; Mr. Everett cleared his throat.

  “Son, if you don’t play, then Adams will. He’s breathing down your neck, you know that,” Mr. Everett said, dropping his fork. I couldn’t tell if this was a pep talk or a berating. “I’ve heard the rumors. They’re saying if you’re out for Clemson, they’ll just give him the rest of the season. NFL is gonna think you’re injured even if you aren’t, if they don’t see you playing.”

  “Yeah. I know,” Jacob said, and I saw something in him crumble. Until this moment, I hadn’t thought he had any doubts about playing in Clemson— but now, as I watched his eyes drop to his food, I realized how wrong I was. It was obvious: He’d wanted his parents to suggest he not play, or in the very least, discuss it with him. He’d wanted them to weigh the pros and cons.

  “Jacob,” Ms. Everett said kindly, and my heart lifted— perhaps she was going to bring some reason to this discussion. “If it’s bad, obviously, don’t play. But you know how these schools are these days, especially with football. They’re being really cautious. No one knows your body better than you. If you think you can play, you should. Don’t let a little muscle tension ruin your career.”

  “Yeah,” Jacob said. “Of course.”

  “Besides, we’re coming to the Clemson game! We’ve got to see our boy slaughter some tigers before he graduates,” Mr. Everett said, slapping Jacob affectionately on the arm.

  “Oh!” Jacob said, eyes widening. “I didn’t know you were coming to that game. You said you wouldn’t be free till Auburn.”

  Ms. Everett gave Jacob a “you’re being crazy” look, and said, “That was before it became your triumphant return to the field, silly.”

  Jacob glanced at me. “I gave my Friends and Family Tickets to Sasha already, is the thing. She’s never seen me play before.”

  Ms. Everett’s jaw dropped. “Ah. Oh. Hm. You’ve never seen him play before, Sasha?”

  “No,” I said nervously. “Not in person, anyway.”

  “Maybe one of you could take the second ticket— Sasha, were you going to invite anyone?” Jacob asked.

  “Oh, uh, no one in mind,” I said politely, while in my head I was screaming dear God please do not force me to sit next to your mother for an entire football game please please please—

  “Now wait a minute, though, have you just never been to a Harton game then?” Mr. Everett asked, squinting at me.

  “I’m a freshman, actually, so no. Never had the chance,” I said, shrugging cheerfully.

  “Oh!” Mr. Everett said, and perked up a little. He grinned, looking pleased with himself. “Then, Jacob, I don’t much think it matters— she can go watch you play the next game. Auburn! She can have our tickets to the Auburn game, since we’re taking hers for Clemson. I think we even have some vouches for nachos,” he added, giving me a meaningful look.

  My mouth dropped. Since we’re taking hers? It was a statement, not a question. I looked over at Jacob, who was focused on adding more barbecue sauce to his dinner— very focused on it, in a way that made me certain he was just avoiding my eyes. Jenna was watching the entire conversation happen like it was a tennis match, so I looked to her for some sort of comfort. For someone else in the room to acknowledge, even if it was just through some eye contact, that this was some straight up bullshit.

  Jenna gave a tiny, tiny little nod, and chewed at the corner of her lip.

  It gave me the courage I needed. “I was really looking forward to that game. I hate to miss it. Maybe…” oh God don’t say it, “maybe one of you can use the other ticket, and we can sit together?”

  Ms. Everett looked shocked. “One of us?”

  “That sounds fun,” Jenna said. “You know. Bonding time. Girlfriend and parents. Woohoo.”

  Ms. Everett shot her daggers, and Jenna shut up.

  “Sasha,” Ms. Everett went on, “I think it’s really sweet that you would want to sit with one of us, but Walter and I have always been something of a united front when we support our son. I know that’s not always the case for some people, especially these days— are your parents divorced?”

  “Are they what?” I asked.

  “Hey, come on—“ Jacob started, though it wasn’t clear who he was speaking to. It didn’t really matter, anyhow, because Ms. Everett tore right over his interruption.

  “It’s just a question! I know often divorced parents aren’t terrible amicable, so only one can go to their child’s special events. It’s nothing against you, dear, I’m just saying that Walter and I attend Jacob’s games together, so it’d just be best if you go to the Auburn game like we originally planned.”

  “What we originally planned was for me to go to the Clemson game. And be we, I mean me and Jacob, who gave me the tickets,” I said, voice going shrill. I looked to Jacob, begging him to intervene, to point out that I was right, to say that after the trip and the bedroom and the general dislike that this was finally, finally, too far.

  Jacob sighed. “Okay, come on, everyone. Sasha, you weren’t planning to go with anyone, so it doesn’t matter if the seat is a single, right? I’ll buy you a new ticket and my parents can take the other two.”

  I stared, shocked. “Are you serious?”

  “It’s just a football game,” Jacob said, eyes pleading with me to just go along with it.

  “A football game you shouldn’t even be playing in,” I said, and stood up. My chair clattered to the floor behind me, and I felt electric in the worst way— the zapping, scarring kind of electricity that killed people when power lines came down. Jacob’s parents exchanged a glance that all-too-clearly broadcasted their less than flattering opinion of my behavior. I waited, waited, waited for Jacob to go on, to say something else, to throw me something in the face of all this.

  He sighed again.

  I shook my head, felt the heat of tears threaten my eyes. I had to get out of here— now. I righted my chair and spun in a disoriented circle. I wasn’t going to run to my room, and I couldn’t exactly jump in the car and speed away, since it wasn’t mine. So I took the first viable exit— the front door— and shoved through it, leaving a silent, stunned dinner table in my wake.

  I hadn’t factored in a few things, when I charged out the door. One, that it was significantly cooler up in the mountains than it was in Atlanta, and I was wearing a sundress. Two, that it was hard night outside, with a milky moon and absolutely no streetlights, ambient city light, or headlights anywhere. Three, that there were bears in north Georgia. Weren’t there? I was pretty sure I’d heard about bears in this area.

  So instead of stomping down a road, like I longed to do, I sat down on the edge of the porch and shivered, from anger and hurt and cold. I kept my eyes on the tree line, for bears, mostly, but also because staring into the darkness of the forest was soothing. The quiet, peaceful opposite of what had just happened inside.

  After a while— I had no idea how long, exactly— the door clicked open. I knew it was Jacob without looking; his cologne, his presence, his breath. Everything about him was bigger, and bolder, and more self-assured. He walked across the porch and sat down next to me.

  “Hey,” he said when I remained silent.

  “Hi.”

  He studied me for a moment, then handed over an afghan blanket I hadn’t realized he was carrying. It was adorned, of course, with the image of a ram. I accepted it, folding it around my shoulders, instantly relieved to keep the chill at bay.

  “I didn’t realize the game was that important to you,” he said carefully.

  “It’s not the game. I mean, it is, and it isn’t,” I said.

  “I don’t understand.”

  “It’s everything. It’s the way your parents treat me. It’s the fact that they invited Jenna up here and intentionally left me off the invitation. It’s the
fact that they think they can just shove me aside, and you just…you just let them. You didn’t even say anything in my defense. Not even when they gave me that stupid bunk bed room.”

  Jacob lifted his eyebrows, but remained quiet for a moment, parsing my words. He finally said, “I know. It’s shitty of them. It really is.”

  “Then why let them treat me that way?”

  “They’re my parents, Sasha,” Jacob said, shrugging. “That’s just how they are. They’re not bad people, they just say stupid stuff sometimes.”

  “But they’re saying stupid stuff to me, is my point. Are we serious, Jacob? Am I important to you?”

  “You know you are.”

  “Then that means you’re letting them treat someone you could be with for a long, long time like shit…just so you don’t have to get into an argument with them.”

  “That’s not fair,” Jacob said. “I’m not letting them— I’m just not going to get in a fight with them over it.”

  I felt my brows knit in hurt. “Same thing! You’re letting them treat me like I’m disposable, and…between that and other stuff…I’m starting to wonder if maybe I am.”

  Jacob looked shocked. “Wait, what? What other stuff are you talking about?”

  “You rushed out the door the morning after we had sex the first time. You only came back for me after your injury. And I can’t help but wonder if it was just…I mean, you knew I wasn’t into football, so I was a safe bet, right? I’d have sex with you and not hassle you about the game, because it didn’t matter to me the way it mattered to all your other girls—“

  “Sasha—“

  “And now that you’re getting back into playing, I feel more and more like you’re shuffling me off to the side.”

  “I’m not. I’m not at all. I’m just trying to focus on my career. Just like you and your classes,” Jacob attempted.

  “I know, I know it’s important to you. I’m not saying I need you to put me before football. I would never ask you to do that. I’m just saying that maybe…maybe the reason you were such a player is because there’s just not room for a girlfriend and football in your life. Especially not a girlfriend like me. Maybe that’s why everyone wants you and Jenna to be together. You two connect like little puzzle pieces. I’m like some part from a different game entirely.”

  Jacob took my hand in both of his, encapsulating it. “I don’t want Jenna. She doesn’t want me. We’re friends.”

  “That’s not the point, Jacob,” I said, shaking my head. “The only way I’m confident about our relationship surviving is if you stay injured. And that’s awful— that’s a terrible reason for a relationship to work out.”

  “Sasha, all relationships are a risk. We can’t quit just because you’re nervous,” Jacob said.

  “That’s not it— it’s the fact that you aren’t,” I said, shaking my head. “I’m a sure thing for you. Everyone’s a sure thing for you. And I don’t think I like being that. I don’t like that you let your parents talk to me that way, because you weren’t worried about me leaving. I don’t like that you aren’t worried about ignoring me when football comes up, because you aren’t worried about me leaving. I want you, Jacob, but…you come with a lot that I don’t want.”

  Jacob looked stunned. “What are you saying?”

  “I’m saying that I think I need some time apart. To figure out what it is I do want. And for you to figure out who is really compatible with what you want.”

  “I want you, Sasha,” he said, almost frantic, like he was talking me down from a cliff.

  I blinked back tears, unsure when they’d started filling my eyes. “I know. I want you too. But I just don’t think it’s going to work right now, okay?”

  “I…” Jacob shook his head, shock in every line of his face. “I don’t know what to say.”

  I sniffled tearfully. “Good luck at Clemson.”

  “Sasha—“

  “I should go now. I’ll ask Jenna to give me a ride home.”

  I prayed that this would be the moment he realized what was really at stake, what really mattered. I begged him silently to prove me right, to show me that he would fight for me right now, when I needed him most.

  Just fight for me like you fight for everything else you care about.

  Jacob watched me, looking smaller than I’d ever seen him look before. “Okay,” he finally said, defeated. “Okay.”

  My heart was breaking, but I couldn’t let him see that. It was too painful to bear my soul to him, now that everything was falling apart.

  I smiled at him instead. “Bye, Jacob.”

  21

  I knew in an academic sort of way that I’d initiated the breakup. That I’d been the one to walk out of the dining room after that beat down by Jacob’s parents, that I’d been the one to jump in the passenger seat of Jenna’s car to be driven home. It was my decision, from start to finish, and I even knew that it was the right decision.

  I felt raw and broken all the same.

  Kiersten and Piper were at the suite when I returned, and looked surprised to see me— concerned, actually, when they saw my face was tearstained.

  “Seriously?” Kiersten said. “You broke up with him?”

  Piper scowled. “There’s no way. He dumped you, didn’t he?”

  “As cheesy as it sounds—it was mutual.”

  “Why?” Piper asked, arms folded.

  I shrugged a little. “I guess the simplest explanation is just that we want different things.”

  Piper rolled her eyes. “I could have told you that. You were never his type to begin with.”

  “Maybe,” I said, shrugging again.

  “So the real question, Sasha, is does this mean Piper can have him?” Kiersten asked playfully.

  “I don’t want Sasha’s freshman cast offs,” Piper said loudly, like Kiersten had suggested she take on insects or drug-resistant bacteria. “Besides, Adams and I are a thing now, and he’s way better in bed than Jacob Everett dreamt of being.”

  “You never slept with Jacob,” I muttered. I instantly regretted the words— why the hell did I want to start another fight this evening? Piper’s nostrils flared and her eyes went dark.

  “No, I didn’t, and it’s a good thing, too. You took my place as his sloppy hundredth. Come on, Sasha. You thought you were his girlfriend? You were his comfort fuck while his arm healed. He’ll go get his hundred and first piece of ass first thing tomorrow.”

  “Oh! It could be me!” Kiersten said excitedly. Piper narrow her eyes. “What?” Kiersten said, and made a face at her. “He’s basically my hundred-and-first too. Besides, everyone else got a piece of Jacob Everett. I wanna be cool,” she joked.

  “Go for it,” I said flatly. “I’m going to sleep.”

  The thing about ending a relationship, I realized— for the first time, as this was my first real adult relationship— is that you’re suddenly made aware just how much of your life has been knotted up with the other person’s. Jacob had been the thing I filled my time with before class, in the evenings, after hours. He picked me up and drove me to the cute little restaurants in Bulkhead, introduced me to the secret menus at the local bars, knew how to sneak into the quarry where they filmed the zombie shows. Without him…

  I was just a college freshman. In Atlanta. Who apparently had no friends, since I’d devoted so much of my social life to Jacob. I went to class and came back, keenly aware of the fact that people were whispering about me in the mirror-world, dark version of the way they had when me and Jacob went public. A girl in my anthropology class— the one where Jacob had come and passed me that note ages ago— leaned in and asked me if the rumors were true, that Jacob left me because I’d lied about being on birth control so he’d sleep with me, and then had had to get an abortion.

  Yeah. So that happened.

  The morning of the Clemson game, Kiersten and Piper woke early and began the long process of styling wind-and-beer-resistant hair. They both had lottery tickets, though Piper would be si
tting in the friends and family section courtesy of Adams.

  “The only downside to him wanting me to suck him dry before every game is the size of his cock,” she said loudly from the bathroom. Kiersten giggled, and Piper went on. “I mean, I give great head, but eleven inches! You have to be able to deep throat to satisfy him. There’s just no other way to do it. Lucky thing he came to someone with experience for all this, huh?”

  I didn’t say anything; I knew this was another one of Piper’s large supply of pebbles to peg me with. Rarely a day passed without Piper loudly exclaiming how glad she was she didn’t let Jacob’s “used up dick” inside her, or how “nine inches is the new four inches”, or how she’d heard Jacob was now fucking the entire rhythmic gymnastics team, “at their training facility, and he tied them up with those ribbon dancer things they use”.

  It got to me— far, far more than it should have. It made me feel crushed by the need for him, the want to call or text or show up at his apartment undressed and let him pull me against his body. It’d gotten to the point that when I touched myself, I barely had to do anything but picture Jacob to make myself come. And it was never the earth-shattering orgasm that Jacob gave me.

  “I’m guessing you’re not going to the game, seeing as how you’re still in your pajamas?” Kiersten asked me.

  “I have a paper to write. And I don’t really want to go anyway. Football’s not my thing,” I said firmly.

  “Football’s barely Jacob’s thing anymore,” Piper snorted. “I can’t believe they’re going to let him play again.”

  “Hey now! Don’t be a fair-weather friend. Jacob Everett did right by the team for years,” Kiersten said, sticking her tongue out.

  “Yeah, well, Adams has been doing right by them ever since Jacob brushed his arm or whatever,” Piper said. “If Jacob gets out there and fucks up this game like he did that last one he played in…let’s just say I’d hate to be him.”

  Kiersten and Piper finally muddled their way out the door in a cloud of styling spray and setting powder. I eagerly locked it behind them and sat down to my laptop to work on my paper…and to watch the game.