NEVER KISS A STRANGER (A Stepbrother Romance)

by Winter Renshaw

  “We didn’t know,” I said.

  “I get that,” Coco snapped. “But it has to end. Now. Our careers, everything we’ve worked so hard for, depends on it.”

  “Everything okay?” Wilder stepped out from the restaurant’s awning.

  Coco tossed her dark hair over her shoulder and softened her expression, hiding the emotions she’d just unleashed on me a second earlier. “Everything’s fine, Wilder. I’ll let you two chat.”

  The clicking of Coco’s heels as she headed back inside were like a countdown until the moment we could finally be alone.

  “Fuck.” Wilder raked his fingers through his hair and then settled his hands on his hips, his weight shifting on his feet. “I didn’t know, Addison. I swear to God.”

  “I believe you,” I said, still finding it hard to look him in the eye. He was my stepbrother. My legal stepbrother. And I’d just sucked his cock that morning.

  “You know I can’t be with you now.” I set fire to us, to our budding relationship, with eight little words. He stepped toward me, reaching for my arm. Our parents were mere feet away, enjoying their freshly delivered appetizers as our world was falling apart outside. “Don’t.”

  “Why can’t you be with me?” he asked. “Shit, Addison, you know how many times my dad has been married? You think this is going to last more than six months? I give it a year. Tops.”

  “They seem really happy.” I drew in a sharp breath, watching my mom laugh at something Vince said. “I’ve never seen her so happy, Wilder.”

  “Fuck that.” He pulled me to the other side of the awning, away from their view. “Stop looking at them. Look at me. I’m still the same person. I could give two shits about some fucking piece of bullshit paper that makes us related.”

  “It’s not that simple.” Coco’s words echoed through my head. The implications of being with Wilder and what it could do to our careers were massive and undeniable.

  “Addison, look at me,” he said, pressing his body up against mine. He cupped the side of my face with his hand, but I pushed it away.

  “We’re in public,” I said, my cheeks burning hot as if the rest of the world knew our secret already. Suddenly the way he looked at me made me feel dirty instead of naughty, disgusting instead of sexy. “Don’t do this.”

  “I don’t see you as my stepsister. I didn’t grow up with you. I don’t have a history with you that spans beyond a month ago.”

  The faint scent of his expensive cologne surrounded us, enveloping me into a bubble reminiscent of the countless nights spent cultivating our torrid love affair. His lips caught my attention. Those full, beautiful, kissable lips, the ones I’d devoured and thought about nonstop, suddenly made my stomach churn.

  If I forced myself to think about all the reasons I couldn’t be with him, to reject his intense stares and disregard his convincing words, maybe it would make the pain of losing him more palatable.

  “We should head back inside.” I stepped away, only to be pulled right back against the brick façade of the building.

  “I’m falling in love with you, Addison.” A hint of a tremble in his voice, the first sign of weakness I’d ever seen in him, made my heart sink. His hand cupped my chin as he raked his thumb across my bottom lip. As he claimed my mouth one last time on the sidewalk outside the French bistro for all the world to see, my body held more nervous tension than I could stand. My eyes darted around the busy sidewalk as passersby looked at us.

  A day ago, I’d have not cared. Funny how everything could change in an instant.

  Wilder smirked. “Not even going to kiss me back, huh?”

  “I-I can’t,” I said, my heart thumping hard in my ears. His revelation terrified me and made my insides burn hot with confusion all at the same time. “Besides, you don’t love me, Wilder. You hardly know me.”

  “Don’t tell me what I fucking feel. I know what I feel.” His hand clenched into a ball as he beat it against his chest.

  “We have to get back inside. They’re going to know something’s up. We’ve been out here a long time.”

  I peeled myself away from the brick wall and practically ran back inside, before he had a chance to talk me out of it or pull me into his arms again.

  “Everything okay, sweetie?” my mom drawled. I’d never heard her ask such a thing before, but I supposed there was a first time for everything. Coco shot me a look, and I nodded in return.

  “Everything’s great, Mom.” I pulled a napkin into my lap and stared down at my plate, the dish Wilder had apparently ordered for me against my wishes.

  “Wilder thought you’d like that. What’s it called again, Wilder?” my mom asked. She spoke to him as if they were pals, like they’d known each other for ages. Like she reveled in her newfound stepmother role. “Sweetie, you should thank him.” She leaned into me. “He’s really trying to make an effort here. Please be a good sport.”

  My blood boiled as I felt everyone’s eyes on me. If they only knew the kind of skin I had in the game, maybe my behavior would make sense. I glanced at the diamond encrusted, rose gold watch on my wrist, the one Wilder had gifted me the weekend before when we went walking around our SoHo neighborhood and happened to pop into a jewelry boutique. “I really need to get going. I’m sorry. I have a showing tonight.”

  Tammy Lynn’s face fell, and I spotted a hint of relief from Coco’s end.

  My mom stood up as I gathered my things. “Don’t forget, sweetie, we’re having a girls’ day tomorrow. We need to catch up. Maybe get our nails done?” She splayed her fingers. The diamond ring on her finger glittered.

  “Yeah, fine, sounds good,” I said as I hugged her. She squeezed me tight. Tighter than she’d ever done before, and I wasn’t quite sure if it was her way to make up for all the years of being a shitty parent or if it was her way of telling me not to ruin this for her. Knowing Tammy Lynn, it was likely the latter.

  “Nice meeting you, Vince.” I nodded in his direction. Wilder’s gaze burned holes right through me. “Wilder.”

  My mind took a snapshot of him, wishing I could replace it with one from that morning, before the shit storm happened. When we were two people who found love in an unsuspecting way and were navigating the murky waters of unbridled passion and vulnerability together.

  I left the restaurant, opting to walk home in a feeble attempt to clear my head.

  It didn’t work.

  The second I made it home, Wilder’s wine-colored sweater was the first thing I saw, draped over the back of my arm chair. I pulled it over my head and curled up on the couch, breathing in his scent until it was no longer there and swallowing the hot, salty tears that tracked down my cheeks.

  “So, son,” my father said the next morning as we met for coffee. “What’d you think of the new family? Bet you never thought you’d be a big brother at your age, huh?” He chuckled as he took a sip from his steaming Styrofoam cup.

  “Completely blindsided, if we’re being honest.”

  “What do you think, though? You like ‘em?” His brows were raised, almost begging me to tell him what he wanted to hear. The truth lingered on the tip of my tongue.

  “I don’t know, Dad.” My lips pursed as I tried to fight it. It was no use. “This is what, number five? When does it end?”

  “Oh, come on.” My dad refused to remove his rose-colored glasses. “Tammy Lynn’s different. She’s not like the rest. She’s a keeper.”

  He said that about Connie. And Debra. And the other two whose names escaped me. His marriage to my mother lasted maybe a decade. No marriage since had made it past the one-year mark.

  “Wilder,” he sighed. “Look. I’m not getting any younger. I want a companion. Someone to settle down with. I’ll be retiring soon, and the nights get a little lonely. Not to mention I love Tammy Lynn. This marriage is forever, mark my words.” He jammed his index finger into the table top. “Forever.”

  “Excuse me while I don’t get too attached,” I huffed, though he didn’t seem to pick up on my
sarcasm. He never was good at reading between the lines, and maybe that was why his marriages never lasted.

  “What do you think of your new sisters? I know you’re all grown adults, but maybe you can all try to spend a little time together after we leave? You’re family now. You should know each other. Be there for each other.”

  “I don’t know about Coco. She seems to have a stick up her ass,” I said. “But that Addison. What a looker, am I right?”

  I tested him, though he was so dense he’d never know it. His face turned a shade of crimson, his smile washing away. “Wilder, don’t speak that way about your sister.”

  “Kind of hard to be sitting across the table from one of the most beautiful women I’ve ever seen and think of her as my sister,” I said, taking a careful sip of coffee. “I’m an adult. She’s an adult. Things happen…”

  My father went to speak, but the words appeared to all jumble before they had a chance to make it out of his mouth. He was flustered, and Vince Van Cleef never got flustered. He was a smooth-talking salesman. A guy’s guy and a lady’s man all rolled into one. He had a comment for everything and could talk his way out of any situation. But me talking about the hotness of my new stepsister got him all kinds of flustered.

  “You won’t speak about Addison that way,” Vince growled like he did when I was a troubled teenager. I knew that tone all too well. My mother shipped me off to stay with him every summer until I turned eighteen, hoping I’d come back a reformed man. It never worked. It wasn’t until she died, that I was forced to grow up and change my trouble-seeking ways. “Do you understand me?”

  I shook my head and stared out the window. The city was one giant all-you-could-eat buffet of beautiful women, many of them passing by in their Burberry coats and Manolo heels with their exotic good looks. But none of them held a candle to Addison.

  It was only a matter of time before Tammy Lynn was ancient history, a blip on the timeline of Vince Van Cleef’s life. And yet I had to suffer. I had to let the woman I loved go so that my love-addicted father could stick his dick in something that made him feel special for a year of his pathetic life.

  My mind wandered to dark corners, imagining what could happen in a year from now. I imagined bumping into Addison out and about, seeing her on the arm of some new guy. I imagined his hands cupping her face and his cock buried in her tight pussy. The one that belonged to me. The one she let me own. The one I never intended on letting go of, no matter how hard things got.

  Addison was my one in seven fucking billion.

  “Wilder, I’m talking to you,” my father’s voice boomed. “I said, do you understand me?”

  I nodded in an attempt to pacify him, though I didn’t understand him at all. No one did. All I understood, and all I’d ever understood, was that Vince Van Cleef was a selfish asshole.

  “Anyway,” he said. “I was going to talk to you about this little real estate venture I’ve been working on. There’s a network of timeshares in Boca Raton that I think will…”

  I let him drone on about some surefire timeshare deal. It would “only” cost two million dollars and he’d do all the legwork. All I had to do was plunk down a bit of cold hard cash, which he insisted was pocket change for me.

  I stared down into the bottom of my coffee cup as he continued. It seemed he only ever contacted me when he wanted money or some kind of assistance anymore anyway. At fifty-five years old, Vince Van Cleef had lived a dozen different lives and had not a damn thing to show for himself. He strolled around town, cruising from showing to showing in his 1998 Boston green BMW Z-3 like he was reliving his glory days when the market was hot and women threw themselves at him.

  It was all a façade.

  I didn’t know much about Tammy Lynn other than the fact that Addison didn’t say a whole lot about her. I knew she’d been married just as often as my dad, and that she didn’t seem too involved in Addison’s life, but I was certain she deserved better than Vince. Most women did.

  “So, what do you say, son?” My dad used his best loving father voice. “About the investment?”

  I yanked the door open to the day spa Coco had picked and was immediately ushered to a changing room and outfitted with a robe and slippers. Moments later, I was escorted to a private room where my mother and sister were already sipping cucumber-infused waters as attendants kneaded and tugged their hands like bread dough.

  “This is the life,” my mother sighed. “Oh, gosh, I needed this.”

  Coco and I exchanged looks, quietly amused at my mother pretending to have a stressful life. Her simple, small town life in Darlington, Kentucky working in a real estate office paled in comparison to the stress we put ourselves through to make something of ourselves. But we said nothing, like the good daughters we were.

  “So, how exciting is it that you have a brother now?” My mom beamed. “And he lives here in the city! I mean, if you ever wanted to spend time with him, catch a bite to eat, need help hanging a picture—whatever—I’m sure Wilder would be there in an instant. He seems like a good boy.”

  I hated that she talked about him as if he were a child, like the friendly neighborhood boy scout always willing to lend a helping hand or help an old lady carry her groceries inside.

  Wilder was so much more than she knew, and he was so much more than I could ever explain. The pain of separating myself from him and attempting to drown out the thickness of the emotions that weighed heavily on my heart only served as fuel to the fire of resentment that’d burned in me for so long.

  I resented my mother.

  And now, I almost hated her.

  Though I supposed it wasn’t fair. It wasn’t like she knew. She didn’t do anything on purpose. But it was the fact that she could con anyone in the world into marrying her. Why’d it have to be Vince?

  “I’d like to leave my ring on,” she said to the masseuse. “I can’t stop looking at it. It’s so nice being married again.” She shrugged her shoulders and flashed a coy, dimpled grin, as if it were her first time as a newlywed. “So, Dakota, how’re things with Harrison?”

  “They’re still living together,” I interjected.

  “When are you going to cut the cord?” Mom asked, shaking her head as if she truly gave a damn. It was all an act. It always was. “I’d love to see you meet someone new. I want to see that sparkle in those big, blue eyes of yours again.”

  Coco rolled her eyes. “Who has time to date? Certainly not me. And who wants to date a woman who could be flown clear across the country at a moment’s notice?”

  Coco and Harrison worked out well for a while since he was her producer. He flew wherever she did. They were both obsessed with their work and obsessed with each other, until shit got real. Coco still refused to talk about what really happened, which only told me it was bad.

  “You know that boy you used to date in high school, the country singer guy, what’s his name again?” Mom scrunched her face, pretending like she didn’t remember. The whole world knew his name. Beau Mason was the biggest country rock singer in the history of music, with more platinum albums in the last decade than most recording legends had in their lifetimes.

  “Beau.” Coco said his name through gritted teeth. She’d refused to talk about him in the nearly ten years that had passed since they went their separate ways.

  “Yes! Beau Mason.” My mom smiled fondly, as if she had nothing but good memories of him. I barely remembered Beau since I was a little younger than her when they were together, but he was my sister’s first taste of real love. And her first taste of real heartbreak. Those things never leave you, no matter how much time passes. “You know, I heard he was retiring. For good. Can you believe that? He’s been so successful and he just wants to give it all up for a quiet life back home.”

  “Good for him.” Coco rolled her eyes. It was the most she’d said about him in years. If you asked me, she was still wildly in love with him. She’d never admit it though, and she refused to listen to any of his songs.

 
; “Maybe he’s not happy,” I said. I glanced across the room at my sister, and I could’ve sworn she was trying to blink away tears. I wanted to tell her she didn’t have to be such a diamond all the time, sparkly and pretty and flawless on the outside and so hard that no one could break her on the inside. It was okay to be vulnerable sometimes. “Maybe he’s searching for something else. Someone else…”

  Coco shot me a look that silenced my commentary. “You know, Addison was seeing someone recently.”

  “You were?” My mom seemed shocked. “Please tell me you’re back with that nice Kyle boy.” She didn’t know the half of what went down with Kyle, and I never quite had the energy to share it with her.

  “Nope, not Kyle.” I shot Coco a look. We were even.

  The spa attendants ushered us into another room, where three massage tables were set up.

  “Oh, gosh, I just love a good massage,” Mom drawled. “Vince tries to rub my shoulders, bless his heart, but he just doesn’t do it the way a professional can.”

  I preferred my massages to be quiet and tranquil, but with Tammy Lynn’s inability to sit in silence for too long, it wasn’t going to happen that day. I breathed in the eucalyptus oil diffusing beneath me and settled into the soft cushion of the table as I tried to tune her out.

  “Oh, girls!” my mom’s excited voice was muffled through the headrest of the massage table. “I forgot to tell you, Vince and I are planning a family vacation. We’re thinking sunny Florida! He’s going to rent us a house right on Cocoa Beach. For one week. All five of us. One, big happy family. How’s that sound?”

  Like torture. Like pure fucking torture.

  “Mom, I can’t take off work,” I objected. I couldn’t be around Wilder for seven days. Not when the wound was so fresh. Peeling myself from him had left a mark, and spending a week with him in Florida was going to be like picking the scab. “I’d have to talk to Brenda. I don’t know…”

  “Same here,” Coco added. “I’d have to clear it with the network. I can’t make any promises.”