I could still feel the low, thrumming hum of arousal that had started the moment Jaxon had closed the door behind us in his bedroom. I almost wished—though I knew it was a stupid thought—that I was attracted to any of the guys in the frat other than Jaxon. They were all good looking enough, and another time I might have suggested to one of them that we screw around and then forget about it. But I couldn’t even think about having sex with anyone, much less one of Jaxon’s frat brothers, without feeling sick to my stomach. I would have to just deal with the fact that I was going to be single for a while. It wasn’t the first time, and I was pretty sure it wouldn’t be the last time in my life that I had to deal with it.
I managed to have a good time in spite of worrying about Jaxon in the back of my mind. It was easier with him up in his room; everyone relaxed, and no one asked me any questions. By the time Jeremy walked me back to the dorms at the end of the night, I felt like it would be easy—or at least easier—to go back to my normal routine of hanging around, shooting the shit, talking to the guys. They knew something was up, but maybe they’d just assume that Jaxon and I had figured our shit out, and that things were just a matter of waiting out the awkwardness between us. I hoped that’s what they thought, anyway.
***
By the next day I felt a little bit better; it was good to have some kind of solution, even if it wasn’t exactly the best. Even if it hurt. It was the only way, I told myself again and again. Jaxon and I definitely couldn’t keep living the way we had been—either avoiding each other or screwing each other’s brains out. I told myself that it would get easier. It would be less awkward. I would eventually stop thinking about Jaxon’s body pressed against mine, his lips, his tongue, and his hands wandering over me.
At first, it seemed hopeless; every time I saw Jaxon passing through campus, or caught a glance of him in the frat house, I felt a shiver go through me. I tried to play it off as best as I could, and none of the guys in the frat asked any questions. They honestly didn’t want to know, I think. Jaxon and I didn’t say anything about what we were to each other—on either count—and it was better for us that way. Even if we’d decided to act as brother and sister, there would be just way too many questions.
The first time Jaxon and I actually hung out in the same group, it went from being awkward and weird to being a lot of fun within about fifteen minutes. Good, I thought. The worst part of it is over. Over the course of a few days, things started to feel almost normal; Jaxon walked me to class sometimes, but not always. He and I could be in the same room without either trying to flirt or feeling miserable. He tutored me again, but never alone in his room—even as back-to-normal as things had gotten, we both knew, though we didn’t talk about it, that it would be tempting fate. Instead, he and I sat in the frat kitchen or in my common room and he taught me the material that my professor, a very nice but difficult to understand Pakistani woman, just couldn’t seem to help me make sense of.
At first, I kept waiting for things to get weird again. I thought to myself over and over again that in spite of the fact that Jaxon and I had agreed to just be brother and sister, to just be friends, something would happen. One of us would lose all self-control and then we’d be right where we’d been during the holiday—groping each other and screwing around in private, presenting a totally different face in public. But somehow we both managed to hold it together.
About a week after Jaxon and I came to the conclusion about how we were going to handle the situation, Mom called me. “Hey Mia baby,” she said when I picked up. “How are classes going?” I was expecting her to be suspicious—I expected her to want to talk about Jaxon, about what she’d seen, and the fight. Instead she just asked about snowboarding, about my grades, all the normal nothings that she’d always asked me about in her phone calls.
The next time she called, she did finally bring up the issue of what had happened during the holiday. I had been waiting for it—even if I didn’t want to bring it up myself, I knew one of us had to say something about it. “I wanted to apologize,” Mom said, after a long chat about what was going on in each of our lives. “I shouldn’t have sprung a new family on you like that as a total surprise.” I told her it was okay.
“I mean,” I said, “you’re a grown woman, you can marry whoever you want. It’s not like you need my permission.”
“I know that, sweetie. But I should have told you before.” I told her that it was all in the past and she was relieved. “I honestly… it’s a small world, isn’t it? I never even really thought about the possibility that Bob’s son would be someone you know.”
I laughed. “It could have been more awkward, but only a little. Imagine if he’d been someone I totally hated.” Mom laughed.
“Well then there’d have been a lot of fighting but maybe it wouldn’t have been…” she stopped short and laughed again. “It’s been weird between Bob and me, but we’ve actually got a better relationship now than we ever had before because of it.”
“I’m glad to hear that,” I told her, lying through my teeth. Ever since the fight between Jaxon and his dad, I didn’t fully like or trust Bob; his chatty ways, the way he’d thrown Jaxon under the bus, all of it made me think he was shifty and maybe not good enough for my mom. But I had to wonder how much of that was because I wanted them to break up—so that Jaxon and I could be together again, without having to worry about being technical brother and sister. “So is he just showering you in jewelry?”
Mom laughed again, more easily this time. “I can tell you one thing: Christmas is going to be a blow-out this year.” She started going on and on about Bob and how much they loved each other and I felt like I had to listen; I was relieved that she was talking to me like a normal person again, not trying to avoid things, not acting weirded out by what I’d done. Even though things were going well with Jaxon—we had managed to get to a point where just regular hanging out was comfortable—I didn’t tell her anything about him, or even mention his name. And Mom seemed just as glad not to bring him up. I wasn’t sure if it was because she wanted to just forget that it had happened completely or because she still felt a little bad about what we’d heard about him from Bob. Or anything else. But neither of us talked about him, and I was actually a little glad to avoid the topic.
Things were a little strained during winter break; Jaxon and I mostly just stayed out of each other’s way, and I made excuses to mom to stay away from the house and Bob. Christmas was nerve-wracking. Mom’s prediction of it being a blow-out was definitely true—but every minute we were hanging out, drinking eggnog and coffee with brandy, unwrapping presents, I kept waiting for Bob to blow up. He managed not to—but I could feel him and Mom watching us the whole time.
I still felt weird. As practices with the snowboarding team started to ramp up to several times a week during the break, I got to see Jaxon just as much as I always had, and it was impossible not to notice that he was hot, that he was getting better and better at hitting his aerials clean, or landing his flips, or any of the little things he was tightening up for the first competition of the season. But I told myself that it would go away eventually. It had to.
Chapter Seven
Just before winter break, the snowboarding team went to our first competition. I was so excited that it was actually really easy to completely forget my issues with Jaxon; I’d competed before, but there was just something about it being my first competition on this particular team that made it all the more thrilling. When I’d competed in the past it had been in individual events—I’d been on my own. Of course, for the competitions we were going to, we’d all be up on our own, but it was so much more fun to have people on the bus on the way to the games, and to know that I’d have people to talk to who weren’t competition.
We’d discussed strategy as a team in one of the last meetings before we headed out; one of the coaches had talked to each of us individually and had addressed us all as a group. “Stick with tricks that you know you can pull off,” he’d said. “
There’s no reason to get injured this early in the season. If you’re squirrely on the landing for something, don’t try it. I know you’re going to be tempted—but if you break an ankle or a wrist or an arm or a leg, you’ll be out for the rest of the season and you won’t even have won this comp.” I could see the wisdom in that; but glancing at Jaxon I could tell that he wasn’t going to take the advice seriously. I knew him well enough to know that Jaxon would go all out. And I knew that I would too.
We got to the mountain where the competition was being held and climbed out of the bus and I was so full of adrenaline that I wanted to jump up and down, run, and scream. Jaxon was playing it cooler; but looking at him, I could tell that he was just as excited. We were all hopped up on coffee, full of donuts from the bus ride. Someone on the team had made breakfast burritos for us to eat later in the morning, and there would be chili, soup, and other hot things to eat for lunch, provided by the competition’s sponsors. It wasn’t a big meet, but it was all part of the bigger series—if we scored solid here, we’d have a good chance of one of us making it to bigger competitions at the end of the season.
“How you feeling?” Jaxon asked me, coming up from behind while I looked over the slopes. We were all going to get a practice run on the different tracks and the half pipe; but for now the earlier arrivals were shredding away.
“A little nervous, but more excited,” I told him, smiling slightly. My heart was beating faster in my chest, but I knew I could get through the day. I had been to competitions before; this was just another, bigger competition. I looked down at the team jersey I’d put on over my warm clothes and gear. It felt good to be part of a team.
“You’ll be great. Just watch your landing out of that power method.” I rolled my eyes.
“Yeah sure. You make sure to come out of your nuclear in time instead of rolling down the hill.”
I did my practice run and focused on just getting a feel for the conditions. The slope was steeper than the mountain near Jaxon’s dad’s place—but the powder was good, and the half-pipe was really well-done too. I started to feel jittery, but I knew that it would pass. People started to really fill the stands, and I stopped drinking coffee, switching to water and hot tea; I didn’t want to have to pee all morning, but I needed to stay hydrated.
When Jaxon went up for his first run, I shouted out a “Good luck up there!” to him, just like a good sister should, and he raised his hand to wave back to me. I would be on half-pipe first; but I watched him as he went up to the top of the slope. I cheered when the announcer called out his name and number, and everyone else with me—the whole team, except for the people who were in staging, scheduled to go up after Jaxon or at the same time on another part of the course—cheered as loud as they could. I watched Jaxon and laughed as I realized that he wasn’t just not paying attention to the coach’s advice; he was throwing it completely out the window. He did every flashy trick he could going through the course, and there were a couple of times that I was actually scared for him—really and truly scared. But he managed to come out unscathed, and managed to stick all his landings, the only important things.
I went out to the half-pipe to do my first run there. I felt nervous, but excited at the same time. Right before the starting buzzer, I took a deep breath. In spite of how excited and nervous I was, I couldn’t help thinking about Jaxon and how he’d done; he’d been really impressive. I barely came out of one of my grabs in time—but I managed to mostly land it. I shook it off and went for another pass, telling myself firmly to just focus on what I was doing. There was plenty of time to think about Jaxon later.
The day passed faster than I would have ever imagined; one of our team was on one of the courses at every single moment. There was barely enough time for me to grab food for my empty stomach in between watching the different members of my team competing; I told myself that I had to cheer just as loudly for the others as I did for Jaxon. After all, they all cheered for me. A few times I heard Jaxon cheering me on, catching his voice from the roar of the crowd. I knew he heard me, too—he looked at me every so often and grinned.
Jaxon’s strategy was obviously to go full-tilt. He threw himself into aerials and flips that he really probably shouldn’t have, and how he managed to land some of his tricks I had no idea. I thought I was good, but either because I was distracted or because I was nervous, I flubbed the occasional aerial, or didn’t quite catch my board the right way in a grab. I hated it every single time I messed up, but I didn’t have time to beat myself up about it. I just had to tell myself I would hit it harder, land it better, and go through cleaner on the next run.
By the afternoon, we were all finished; the judges were tallying up the scores from the different events and all the teams milled around, talking to each other—trash talking, complimenting someone’s tricks, joking—while we waited to find out. I could feel my heart pounding; for a lot of us, it was going to be really close. It had gone so fast that I hadn’t even really kept track of my individual scores, so I had no real idea of how I’d done. My muscles were aching but I knew that I’d done the best I possibly could.
They started announcing the different events; Jaxon took home first in his division for half-pipe, slopestyle, and even the big air, so of course he’d gotten first place overall—and I cheered as loud and crazy as anyone on our team when he held up the trophy for division first place. We waited and waited, and finally it came to my division. My heart was pounding when they started announcing the winners for Half-pipe. I came in third on half-pipe, fourth place—honorable mention, which sucked the wind out of my sails—on big air, and second place on slopestyle; I tried not to be too bummed with a third place finish in my division as a whole. After all, I told myself, hauling my trophy back to the team, I’d been so distracted, especially in the aerial competition, that I should have by all rights ended up with a broken leg. I knew the coach would be talking to me about taking too many risks on the big air.
The rest of the team placed fairly well; one of the other girls got the third place win on the big air ahead of me, though she finished fourth overall in the competition, and one of the senior girls placed second overall. We’d managed to scrape through with enough points to be in contention for the next big tournament, which was all that really mattered, though Jaxon was, of course, the hero of the day. “Everyone over to the lodge!” one of the coaches called out as the audience started to filter out of the stands. “Celebration time!” I was exhausted but giddy and excited at the same time—there was no way I’d be able to sit on a bus for a few hours, so I was glad that we’d have some time to unwind first. I looked at Jaxon, pumping his trophy in the air, and laughed my ass off at him. At least one of us came out on top.
Chapter Eight
“Great job, Mia,” Alexis said, grinning at me as she wandered past me through the clubhouse, hot chocolate in hand.
“Yeah! They totally cheated you on that aerial competition—you should’ve gotten a solid second, not a thanks-for-playing third overall.” I shrugged it off. I knew I hadn’t been performing at my peak—but it was nice to think that at least someone on the team, even if they were biased, thought that I should have ranked higher. All of us were giddy, all of us were excited.
My manic energy started to deflate all of a sudden and I sat down near the fire, cradling my hot chocolate in my hands. I was happy, and I was pleased overall with how I’d placed, considering how far away my brain was from what I was doing, but I was bone-tired. I stared into my cup, smiling to myself, ready to go back to the dorms and curl up in my bed—maybe after a long, hot shower.
“Hey, why are you looking so down?” I looked up, blinking, to see Jaxon a few feet away. I shrugged, still smiling.
“Just tired, I guess,” I said. Jaxon sat down, nodding. He was a safe distance away from me, and he glanced around the room where the whole team was gathered, talking to each other, laughing—a few of the older kids on the team were having beers instead of hot chocolate, the coaches had
Irish coffees.
“You did really well,” Jaxon told me. I laughed.
“I nearly broke my leg in that big air portion.” Jaxon shrugged.
“Yeah, but you didn’t! Third isn’t bad at all for your first real competition.”
“Says the hero!” I said, rolling my eyes. “The guy carrying the whole team. Where would we be without you, fearless one?” I felt the giddy feeling returning—the tingly, anticipating, excited feeling. Jaxon and I started to talk about strategy—for the team, for ourselves. Jaxon was clearly in the best standing; but we agreed that I should try for at least second overall in the next meet.
“The next one’s going to be a bigger comp, so it’ll be worth more, even if it’s technically going to count the same in standings,” Jaxon told me. “More press there, more sponsors, stuff like that. The points are the same, but if you do better there, you’ll get more notice, and so will the team.” Jaxon was going to try and make sure to get first again, if he could; though with a bigger field of competition, it would be tougher. We talked about tricks that we were going to work on—flashier aerials, things that would bring in more points.
In spite of the fact that we were talking like normal friends, I could tell there was something weird between us. I was antsy, anxious. I wanted Jaxon to come closer, but I also wanted to run away. I tingled all over, and I couldn’t help noticing that Jaxon looked great in his new gear—which Bob had gotten him for Christmas. The longer we sat here talking, the more I felt myself responding to how hot he was. This was bad; I swallowed down the feeling of panic that came along with being attracted to Jaxon. I should get away. I should make an excuse and go talk to someone else, maybe even head back to the bus. Surely we’d be going back to campus soon—it was getting to be dark outside.
Stepbrother JEEZ! (The Stepbrother Romance Series - Book #4) Page 4