I looked down at Logan's blazer wrapped around me.
No. It can't be.
I turned my head and pressed my nose against the right shoulder of the blazer.
Another deep inhale.
No fucking way.
Shock coursed through me. Why the hell did Logan's blazer smell like the man who'd danced with me. Was Logan the guy who'd palmed my breasts and kissed my neck? If so, had he known it was me or had he thought he was dancing with Cassie?
"Alyssa, get in the car."
Startled, I discovered that Melanie and Jared were waving goodbye as they drove away and Logan had the car stalling, waiting for me while Cassie had already hopped into the front passenger seat. During the drive home, that stupid hope spluttered back to life once more. The hope convinced me that Logan had known it was me and not Cassie since Cassie and I were nothing alike. Her breasts were bigger and her dress had sequins. Surely he would've noticed the difference! The hope encouraged me to nourish it, that maybe there was a chance Logan didn't hate me as much as I'd thought.
And when Logan dropped me home but drove off with a smiling Cassie, the hope dimmed a little, but it quietly assured me as I got ready for bed that someday, I'd no longer have to hope at all because whatever I hoped for would've been made into reality.
4: Logan
"Had fun last night?"
I lifted my arm away from my eyes. Alyssa propped her forearms on the back of the sofa I was lying in, leaning over to watch me. I could see down the front of her shirt. The fleshy tops of her breasts made for a fantastic view. She must have noticed my staring because she looked down at her chest then stood up straight, a light blush colouring her face.
"Perv."
I covered my eyes again. "You're the one who had them on display. And yes, I had an obscene amount of fun last night. Obscene."
Last night was the worst. I'd suffered the mother of all blue balls because I'd dry-humped and felt up my stepsister, and instead of relieving myself in the willing arms of Cassie, I'd been a true gentleman and headed home to a cold shower and an unsatisfactory self-applied handjob.
I'd been a real bonehead and a disgusting bastard. Not only could someone have seen us, Alyssa had been drunk while I was stone sober. She hadn't known who exactly she'd been grinding her perfect ass against, but I had been fully aware of whose soft body I'd been fondling. Shame and guilt coalesced into something thick and heavy in the pit of my stomach and I could feel anger being borne from that horrible mass. I was angry at her, angry about this situation; mostly, I was angry with myself.
But I suppose my lone consolation from last night was that I'd gotten the chance to feel her luscious body against mine. Both a shame and a relief that she would never know it was me.
"Did you dance with me last night?"
Shit. Play it cool. Deny, deny, deny!
I moved my arm away from my eyes to look at her again. "What the hell are you talking about?"
"I danced with a guy last night and your blazer smelled like him. So I thought..."
"It wasn't me," I said.
She didn't look convinced. "Are you sure? Because—"
"Look, it wasn't me," I snapped. "I danced with Cassie all night. Besides," I continued, my frustration fully underway now, "maybe if you didn't dress like a slut then you wouldn't have random guys grinding up on you."
I instantly regretted what I'd said, but the damage was already done. Her face looked like she'd been slapped and if there was anything lower than a heel, then that was how I felt.
I sat up. "Alyssa, I'm—"
"Wow," she said, shaking her head as she backed out of the room. "Just, wow, Logan. No level of mean is too high for you."
My apologies fell on deaf ears. She'd already left the room.
***
After a few days of the silent treatment and absolute ignoring of my presence from Alyssa, I caved to the wisdom of the internet. 'How to apologize to a woman' returned over sixty-three million results. The first link I clicked on had an actual list.
I could have asked one of my friends, but that would be weird. Frankly, men did not ask for advice about women from other men. Not unless the advice was about various tactics on getting into women's pants. I mean, yeah, I could've probably asked my friends but their filthy minds would supply filthy suggestions. They wouldn't care if she was my sister. Stepsister. Whatever.
Anyway. Alyssa's coldness didn't bother me. Clearly, she was the one with the problem here. OK, alright, fine. Implying she was slutty hadn't been nice. It was an assholish thing to do, actually. And maybe her persistent unwillingness to even acknowledge my presence bothered me a little. A lot. Too fucking much. Where was the Alyssa that took my mean streaks in stride and shrugged them off? Or even the Alyssa that gave back as good as she got? I didn't like this new one very much. I didn't enjoy the quiet but obvious resentment that exuded from her whenever she and I were in the same room. She had to be fixed! But how?
Nothing I read online offered any further insight or tips than what I'd already considered or tried myself. I'd apologized sincerely multiple times, but my words had only been met with rude silence. Offering her flowers or something of astronomical price value felt too over the top, and a little too much like a cheating husband paying penance to his furious wife. Perhaps 'User IcUPb4M3' on the last messaging board I'd looked at briefly was right: wait it out and see. She'll come around soon.
But a few more days went by and she still refused to speak to me.
"Don't you think you're overreacting?" I said one afternoon.
She scowled. "You haven't seen overreacting yet, dickface."
I smiled. She glared. I wanted to kiss her. She looked ready to kick me in the balls.
Finally, the Alyssa I knew.
5: Alyssa
It was fun to watch Logan agonize over hurting my feelings. Sure, what he'd said stung, but I'd gotten over that later on the same day. However, Penitent Logan was rare and pleased me too much to let it slip away. After suffering his meanness for all these years, my pride reaped significant satisfaction from watching him eat crow. Besides he should feel bad for being such an ass.
But it had to end. He would have figured it out soon, and something told me he'd be even worse of a jerk if he knew I'd already forgiven him on his first sincere apology.
I sighed and turned away from the shoe store's window to look up at the grey sky. Even though I'd not been out for long, it was time to go home. Well, not my home as Logan liked to remind me. But whatever. At least it had a TV to watch and video games to play. I don't know why Melanie and Cassie had even dragged me on this trip if they knew they were going to spend most of their time with other people. Melanie was somewhere with her boyfriend and Cassie—I don't know. When I last called her cellphone it sent me straight to voicemail.
Probably somewhere fucking Logan.
Ugh. I didn't even want to think about that. Mostly, I didn't want to think about Logan in any sexual way ever again. Once more, I'd been duped by hope. The night of the party I'd been excited by the thought that I'd danced with Logan, but he threw cold water on that. It wasn't me. I danced with Cassie all night. Of course. It was why he'd been so hasty to drop me off so he could go screw Cassie's brains out.
But why had his blazer smelled like the guy I'd danced with?
Why didn't I learn? I could never have Logan. Never. To wish for otherwise led to a place of heartbreak and further dark consequences I hadn't properly considered as yet. What I actually needed was a man that was right for me. One that was socially acceptable to be with. Could I go out in public with Logan, my stepbrother? Hold him? Kiss him? Make it obvious that we did all the things a couple did? No, no, no. But I could do it all with the faceless, nameless Joe I'd find if I sought him out instead of yearning for my stepbrother.
As a matter of fact, I thought as I made my way home, the only two relationships I'd been in were complete duds. I didn't need a man at all. Not now, anyway. I was going on twenty-two and
about to finish up my last year of college. What I needed was to focus on my French and business education as well as my career. After all, my ultimate dream was to live and work in the heart of France, so from here on until I'd achieved my goal, I, Alyssa Smith, would have no more interest in men.
"Is everything to your liking, Mr. Ashbury?"
I stopped walking and looked in the direction of the voice. On the patio of a pricey-looking restaurant sat a few people at different tables. However, a blonde man hovered nearest the table where Logan was seated. The blonde man looked too well-dressed in his navy-blue suit and clean haircut to be a waiter. I rolled my eyes. Typical. Wealthy people always got the better service.
"Everything's great, Michael," said Logan, leaning back into his seat. "Thanks."
He wore a pale blue dress shirt with a few of the top buttons undone, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and his dark hair curling at the collar added a nice contrast. Annoyed, I wondered how someone could look both ordinary and sexy at the same time.
Move before he sees you!
Too late. Michael looked up and caught me gawking and Logan followed his gaze.
"What are you doing here?" There were no mean undertones but his bluntness irked me nevertheless.
"You might be richer than God but you don't own this pavement I'm standing on," I said in snippy tones. "I can be anywhere I hell damn please."
He rolled his eyes. "Christ, Alyssa, won't you quit it? Come here."
"Why?" I was making a scene. People were starting to watch. I didn't care.
"Come have lunch with me," he said then turned to Michael. "Get her a menu, please."
"I don't want to have lunch with you. I'm going home."
"Alyssa, if you persist in behaving like a child, I have no problem treating you like one," he said evenly. "When last have you been spanked?"
My face grew hot from embarrassment and surprised excitement. Was Logan flirting with me? I wasn't sure, but he was smiling. Michael returned with the menu and I decided it wasn't a hardship to have Logan feed me an expensive plate of food.
I pretended nonchalance as I sat opposite him but failed. I stuttered out my choices, more than aware of Logan's gaze trained on me. When Michael disappeared with my order, I had nowhere to look but up. At him.
"Now isn't that better?" he said.
I fiddled with the knick knacks on the table. "Maybe for you."
"I see. So you suffer whenever I'm around then?"
"Yeah, pretty much. Especially with all the insults and stuff."
He sighed and leaned closer. "Why are you being so difficult? I said I was sorry."
"Sure," I said, finally meeting his gaze. "You're sorry now until you open your big, stupid mouth and prove how much of a dick you can be. I don't like dicks, Logan."
"Are you absolutely sure about that?" he chuckled.
I was slow on the uptake but when I finally got it I couldn't help smiling back.
"You're the worst," I said, shaking my head.
He smiled at me. "Only for you, sis."
***
Lunch with Logan turned out to be an enjoyable experience—even when Cassie showed up unexpectedly and joined us.
"I lost my phone!" she said when I told her I tried to contact her earlier. "Auntie Isabel and I couldn't find it so I got a new one!"
After enduring Cassie's lengthy tale about the loss and futile search for her missing phone, Logan took us on a quick tour of the neighbourhood. For a small town girl accustomed to plain houses and pool-less backyards, it was interesting to see the variances of the opulent lifestyle of the coastal wealthy folk.
"How many rooms do these people need?" I asked, eyeing yet another McMansion.
"Just enough to not have to deal with annoying relatives on the regular," said Logan, looking at me.
I returned his gaze. "Yeah, I think I could agree with that."
Cassie laughed. "Are you two never at each other's throats?"
We had fun. I couldn't deny that. However I also couldn't deny the little stabs of jealousy when Cassie and Logan flirted with each other in front of me. I looked away whenever Cassie held onto Logan's arm or when Logan smiled at her in a way he'd never smiled at me before. I reminded myself of my earlier promise: no more thoughts of men, especially of Logan. I told myself that sacrifices were never easy. I consoled myself with the knowledge that someday, after I'd achieved my necessary goals in life, I'd find someone who would and could reciprocate my feelings.
Evening came and Logan drove us back to his condo. Tired from all the activities, I went to take a long, soothing bath. By the time I'd returned to the living room, both Cassie and Logan were nowhere to be found.
I ignored any thoughts that pondered on where they'd gone or what they were doing. Instead, I poached Logan's jar of mixed nuts from where he'd hid them on the very top of the fridge—I had to climb up onto the counter to get them—and headed outside. It wasn't chilly as yet, so I stayed fairly warm in my tank top and shorts. I sat on the edge of the pool, lazily swishing my bare feet in the water as I chomped away on Logan's nuts.
I giggled at the thought of 'eating Logan's nuts'.
"What's so funny?"
Startled, I turned to find Logan standing behind me.
"You're here."
He walked towards me, his hands in his pockets. "You're eating my stash."
"Payback for stealing my pizza slice," I said, munching away on some cashews. "Besides, I thought you wouldn't be back for a while from wherever you went with Cassie."
"I dropped her home."
"What's the point of being stupid rich if you don't have a driver?"
"Because I like to drive," he said. "Besides, I didn't mind driving her home."
"Of course."
"What's that supposed to mean?" he asked as he kicked off his shoes, took off his socks and rolled up the legs of his pants.
"No meaning behind it." I shrugged, looking away as he sat beside me. "Just responding to what you said."
"No, there was more to that 'of course'," he said. "Like you're implying something." Then he scoffed and shook his head. "Jeez, Alyssa. You don't have to worry. I didn't fuck your friend. Never had."
Cassie and Logan never had sex? But what about the night of party?
I almost didn't believe him until I remembered Cassie's blabbermouth nature. She loved to regale me and Melanie with tales of her conquests. A big, rich fish like Logan would have been a prime notch on her bedpost and worthy of a longer than normal tale-telling, but Cassie had kept mum on the topic—which meant that the night of the party when she was confident 'it was her night', it hadn't been at all. Logan had not offered that ride on his cock as she'd been hoping for.
Never had I felt so relieved. I also did not want to investigate why that was so.
Pretending I wasn't surprised by what he'd said, I shrugged again.
"None of my business."
He remained silent for a while. He bowed his head and stared into the pool as he swished his feet around in the water.
"She's not my type anyway," he said quietly.
I scoffed. "Cassie is every guy's type. Blonde and chesty."
"Not mine." His voice was harder and when his gaze met mine I couldn't look away. The pool light below us illuminated his face in certain areas and cast shadows in others, and his grey eyes had darkened to a steely grey. He looked dangerous and exciting and he was sitting too close. Couldn't he hear how hard my heart was beating?
"OK," I said softly. "What's your type then?"
You. It's what I wanted to hear so badly, and my mind raced with imagined responses if he did say that. But then a devious smile curved his lips.
"Soaking wet," he said.
Confused. "What? That's not—"
My words were cut short when Logan's hand pressed against my back and gave me a hard shove. I yelped, my hands flailed, one hand knocking over the jar of nuts, and the other seizing onto Logan's arm as I splashed face first into the pool.
Justice was served when he got yanked into the water with me.
However, unexpectedly shoving me into the pool wasn't enough for Logan. As I righted myself and spluttered out water that got in my mouth, Logan attempted to sink me beneath the water, laughing and clearly reaping some evil joy out of trying to drown his stepsister.
"Oh my god, Logan! You ass! Stop it!"
I screamed and laughed, fighting to dunk him beneath the water too, but my efforts were pointless against Logan's superior strength. Realizing my imminent loss, I climbed onto him, wrapping my arms around his neck and my legs around his waist. There was no way he'd get me now!
The water continued to slosh around us and gently eased us up against the concrete wall of the pool. Where one problem ended, another began. In my haste to get away from Logan, I'd gotten closer to him than I ever had instead.
Logan didn't move. Neither did I. The silence between us absolute.
Let him go. I couldn't.
My heart raced and the pit of my belly felt weird and quivery. Logan gripped the edge of the pool wall to keep us buoyant while his other hand encircled my body. Why was he holding me tighter? Why didn't he let me go? We were so close. We were too close. His gaze dropped to my lips, I did the same to his. I don't know who moved first but in the next moment we were kissing.
There was nothing gentle about our kiss. It was unrefined and desperate, as if we were pouring years of frustration and denial into that one moment. Logan's mouth and body dominated mine. He slid his tongue along my bottom lip, begging entry and I opened my mouth to swirl my tongue with his. He pressed my body against the pool wall with his and I clung to him tighter, wanting to feel every bit of him on me…in me.
His hand moved from my back to slide up underneath my tank top and the motion of his hand disturbed the water against my skin, making it tickle my flesh. My fingers ran through his wet hair and I moaned into his mouth when his hand cupped and squeezed my naked breast beneath my top. I'd yearned to have Logan touch me this way for so long that the reality of it made my head spin with excitement.
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