Prime: A Bad Boy Romance

by Stephanie Brother

  “That too.”

  “Well, whatever you did, it worked.”

  The snow is falling more heavily now, thick enough to make our hair wet and white.

  “You?” I ask.

  “Regrets?” Marcy says. “Men in general, I suppose.”

  “Yeah, you’ve had your fair share of bad ones”, I say.

  “You’ve got to kiss a lot of frogs”, Marcy says. “Or just the right two. Maybe I’m just unlucky in love.”

  “Or I’m extremely lucky”, I suggest.

  “That too.”

  We walk on for a bit, the tops of the cars at the edges of us white with fresh snow. It hasn’t snowed like this all season and seeing it here now makes me disproportionately happy. Perhaps it’s the whole scene that’s doing it, though. Walking along, arm in arm with my best friend in the whole world, while 2017 ushers its way in on a fresh blanket of white. You can’t get much purer than that I suppose.

  “You know, it doesn’t snow like this in Baton Rouge”, Marcy says.

  “I didn’t think it snowed like this in Madison either”, I say.

  I rest my head on her shoulder for a moment. “I won’t be going immediately, you know, plus I’ll be back often, and you can always come and visit”, I add.

  “That’s how the end of a friendship begins”, Marcy says. “Little by little we’ll drift apart.”

  “Not if we don’t let ourselves”, I say.

  “It’s alright, the snow is making me sad”, Marcy admits.

  “I thought you never got sad”, I say.

  “I never had to deal with growing up before”, she says.

  “Nor me”, I say. “It’s way harder than I thought.”

  “At least you’re happy.”

  “I am with Donkey”, I say, “but it’d be a hell of a lot easier if they weren’t about to become my stepbrothers.”

  “Better than them being your actual brothers”, Marcy says, and it makes me laugh out loud.

  “Never a truer word spoken. Hey”, I say, breaking away from her, the idea just coming to me. “You want a snowball fight?”

  Marcy narrows her eyes at me, while I’m already testing the snow from a car roof for suitability.

  “A snowball fight?” she asks, the question formed in such a way it suggests she’s saying instead, why the fuck did we not think of this before?

  “I don’t know, Jenny, I’m not all that competitive”, she says, while edging her way towards a huge stack of snow on the hood of the closest car.

  The snow isn’t brilliant, but I manage to make a decent enough ball anyway. I toss it between my gloved hands, waiting for Marcy to get ready.

  “That’s okay”, I say. “You don’t need to be competitive, you just need to be good at throwing.”

  “Or ducking”, she says, expertly avoiding the snowball I’ve thrown without warning, which explodes against the car window behind her. I giggle hard while I work quickly at gathering more snow only for a neatly packed bundle to explode painfully against my lower back.

  “Ow!” I scream out, turning around to see Marcy laughing hard and already gathering more snow. “You’re going to pay for that.” I say, before taking a more strategic position and ducking behind one of the parked cars on my side of the street.

  “You’re going to have to make me”, Marcy says, half a cigarette still pressed to her lips, the smoke curling towards the sky.

  I bundle up two snowballs while another one of hers fizzing past my head to disappear into the darkness behind me.

  “Fuck!” I hear Marcy shout, before I advance, balls blazing, to land both hard against her chest.

  The snow explodes in a puff of white dust and I have just enough time to celebrate before Marcy gets back to gathering, giggling so hard she sounds like she’s never had as much fun.

  To be honest, it’s been ages since I have either, and for a long while into the fading hours of the night, Marcy and I gather snow, hands getting numb where the thin gloves we’ve brought out aren’t enough to protect us, and launch it across the road into each other’s direction.

  When the giggling eventually gets the before of us, or the snow runs so low we’re basically just showering each other with a handful of flakes, we wrestle and fall together, arm in arm into a slushy bank.

  I stretch out and look up to the sky, while Marcy fishes for a cigarette and sticks it to her lips.

  “Last one”, she says. “Guides’ honor.”

  “You were never a guide”, I say.

  “Then Marcy’s honor.”

  From down here, through the last of the tumbling snow, the stars look even brighter than normal.

  “You’ll come, won’t you?” I say. “To the world’s strangest wedding.”

  “Will there be a free bar?” she asks.

  “Yes, there’ll be a free bar”, I confirm.

  “Then I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

  “Good. I’m going to need the support.”

  We lie there in silence, each of us lost in our own thoughts, while the snow begins to thin out.

  “Jenny?” Marcy asks after a while.

  “Uh huh?”

  “Is your back cold?”

  “Yes”, I say, laughing. “Freezing.”

  “Mine too. Home?” she suggests.

  I nod. “Definitely”, I say, sitting up. “2016 can go fuck itself.”

  I hold out my arm and help Marcy up. “Now that’s an attitude I can get along with”, Marcy says, pulling herself to her feet.

  We walk the rest of the way home in silence, and despite everything that’s about to happen now seeming less around the corner and much more on the very same street, I feel positive. I feel like 2017 will be my year and honestly, I can’t wait for it to begin.

  Part Seven.

  Until Death Do Us Part

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Donkey look absolutely stunning. Like, drop dead, straight out of the pages of an expensive fashion magazine, highlight billboard in a big city, going to have to change my panties a number of times throughout the day, eye-poppingly gorgeous.

  Last night we secretly saw each other behind everyone’s backs, catching up exactly where we left off, and today, holding myself away from them on what is Dad’s special occasion is already proving extremely difficult.

  I want to hold their hands at the very least, take them both away to the restrooms at the very most, but all I can do is act as if we haven’t seen each other for a while and we are nothing more than old friends and about to become stepsiblings.

  Focus here is on Dad and Janice, and thank God Marcy is here to remind me of that, ready to point out contradictory behavior if I somehow find myself forgetting that in this environment we are not lovers, we are ex-next door neighbors and the progeny of the marrying couple. It’s an absolute head fuck and an exercise in superhuman levels of concentration and control, especially after a few swigs of Marcy’s rum in an attempt to calm my nerves.

  This morning, after waking up with the boys in their hotel room, I rushed home to gather my things and get ready. Marcy came over shortly afterwards, and together we made the short trip to the church, where Dad and Janice, amongst a small collection of their friends and colleagues, Donkey included as the best men and absolute stars of the show, have decided to tie the knot.

  It’s a low-key affair, a celebration of the coming together of two people who have loved each other for many years and have only recently been given the opportunity to consummate that love officially, at least that’s how it’s described, more or less, by the vicar in charge of the ceremony.

  I can’t help but think of my love for Donkey, and the somewhat secret nature of our relationship and I can tell by the look she gives us all, that the irony isn’t lost on Marcy either.

  Dad looks good and Janice has clearly spent either a lot of time, a lot of money or both on making herself stand out.

  In the front row, I stand with Marcy next to me at the edge of the aisle, Jack and Zach ju
st across from both of us, next to uncles or cousins, or random family members of Janice’s who have felt compelled to make the trip. I don’t know whether Mom not being here is weird or not, because, to be honest, the whole thing feels about as real as the ‘diamonds’ in Janice’s tiara.

  I’m being unfair, and naturally critical of course, but this isn’t like the wedding I’d want for myself, nor the one I expected Dad to have. I’m happy for them, though, despite the difficulty it puts Donkey and myself in, I’m pleased they are out of the relationships that were making them unhappy, and that they’ve both finally found love albeit in the least expected of places.

  Marcy elbows me in the ribs too hard when she sees me looking at Donkey way too often during the ceremony, and when I lose my footing and nearly spill out into the aisle as a result, the vicar makes a joke at my expense and the whole congregation fall about laughing.

  He says. “I do hope this isn’t a protest, because we haven’t quite got to that bit yet.”

  “No”, I assure him, smile, take my place again confidently and give Donkey a long look that they know means that I can’t wait for this to be over so we can get naughty before the reception begins. I haven’t been to too many weddings but I do know that Dad and Janice will be far too busy getting photos done after they’ve tied the knot, and every one else will be far too drunk to notice my planned little disappearing act.

  Five seconds of conversation when Marcy and I got here today and Donkey were already where they are standing now, isn’t exactly going to be enough to get me through.

  “Is there anyone gathered here today-?” the Vicar says, before the smart ass takes a pause and looks in my direction, to another volley of laughs from the crowd. “No?” he adds, before I assure him I’m not here in that capacity.

  Dad and Janice look at me too, both wondering what the hell it is I’m doing. I look nervously at Marcy, dare a look at Donkey and then smile as brightly as I can to the vicar.

  “I’ll carry on shall I?” he says, trying to be lighthearted and jovial.

  “Is there anyone gathered here today who knows of any reason why Janice and Doug cannot be legally joined in matrimony? Speak now or forever hold your breath.”

  There is a pause while Dad and Janice look around the church and laugh nervously. I look at Donkey, my heart beating wildly, desperate to be between them on the other side of the aisle, and Marcy, noticing it perhaps, reaches for and then holds my hand.

  Zach smiles, Jack gives me his sexy eyes and the vicar pronounces our parents officially married, effectively turning us all into one big, dysfunctional and morally murky family.

  Confetti at the ready? Check. Pulse racing? Check. Palms sweaty? One-hundred-fucking-percent.

  Let’s get the happy couple out of here and in front of the fucking photographer because this girl is as horny as hell and it’s not going to go away.

  ***

  “So, you guys are brothers and sisters now? Neat.”

  Donkey and I look at each other with wry ironic smiles. We’ve been collared at the entrance to the church by one of Janice’s cousins, who has come here alone and gives every impression that it would be better for everyone if that didn’t ever change.

  I’m not rude when I excuse myself quickly, Donkey left to smile sweetly in my wake before joining me at a clip towards the car, our excuse a simple lie about needing to prepare something for our parents at the reception venue that nobody would ever think twice about disbelieving.

  I feel a little guilty about leaving Marcy alone, but if there is anyone who can handle a crowd of strangers it’s her. I know by the time we see her again, she’ll have a group of people around her, and undoubtedly more attention even than the bride and groom.

  I feel more guilty leaving Dad and Janice, but I know they’ll be far too consumed by everything else to realize we’ve even gone, and if they do start asking questions about our whereabouts, Marcy’s been briefed about what to say. Donkey and I are going ahead just to check everything is due to run smoothly. It’s not inconceivable, either, that they’ll need a little help from their new stepsister in doing it. Back up plan B is a costume change. If all else fails and it’s clear that we’ve disappeared for much longer than is normal, it’ll be because we’ve had to change our clothes. A group wardrobe malfunction or just a simple change of tastes, I’m way too horny to think anything other than winging it when we all get back.

  It’s a shorter drive to the house than it is to the hotel, and the house has the advantage of being halfway between here and the reception venue, which means we have more time to get out of our clothes and into another set, and even more time between the taking off of one and the putting on of the other. Mom’s not home either, which means we’ve got the whole place to ourselves, for all of the half an hour we’ll probably get at this stage to enjoy it.

  Marcy doesn’t let me leave without a warning, but even she knows that what we are actually planning on doing will be so far from the minds of any of the invited guests, that as long as we don’t advertise the fact when we get back, the plan is going to be flawless.

  We make our way through the crowd, we mention the venue in passing, we talk amongst ourselves about checking everything is going to plan for our arrival, and before we get into the car, Jack even makes a phone call to make the cover even more watertight.

  While Dad and Janice appear in a series of photos with family members and colleagues of distant connection, Donkey and I, all as horny as hell, make good our getaway, our own photos with our parents done, the foundations of our excuses laid, our filthy minds on what we want to do to each other, urgently and passionately, and our new found status as stepsiblings, a million miles away from anything that even resembles something that should strike us as important.

  No one watches us go but Marcy, her look conspiratorial, her smile mischievous, a crowd already gathered round, charmed by her inimitable personality.

  I’m in the back seat while the twins sit up front, Jack taking the wheel.

  “We’ve got thirty minutes tops”, Jack says. “Probably even less than that.”

  “They won’t notice we’re gone”, I insist. “Not until they start to look for us.”

  “You look beautiful”, Zach says, turning around in his seat to face me.

  “It’s just something I threw on”, I joke.

  I notice Jack eyeballing me in the rearview mirror. “He’s right, Jenny. You look absolutely stunning.”

  “Thirty minutes tops? That’s not going to be enough for the pair of you”, I say.

  “We give you everything in one go, you’re going to get tired of us both pretty quickly”, Jack says.

  “I really don’t think that’s going to be possible, but test me if you like, I’m ready for it.”

  “What would your Dad say if he found out that on his second wedding day, his brand new step sons were sharing his daughter?” Zach says.

  “He’s always been a very understanding man”, I lie, “I’m sure there wouldn’t be a problem. We’re all adults after all, and there’s nothing illegal about what we are doing with each other.”

  “Good answer”, Jack says.

  “Although, I’m sure that what I want to do to you two, might be illegal in some States.”

  “Jennifer Cole”, Jack says. “Is this the same sweet girl we grew up next to?”

  “The same one that wrote those naughty stories you both seemed to like so much”, I say.

  “I suppose we better get you home”, Jack says.

  “Just to see what you mean by that”, Zach adds.

  “You think you can make it work in thirty minutes?” I say.

  “That depends on how fast I drive”, Jack says, “but anyway, we haven’t got thirty minutes.”

  “No?” I ask.

  “No”, Zach answers for this brother. “We’ve got the rest of our lives.”

  I smile, a warmth melting over my skin at their unwavering commitment, their reciprocated desire. “Like we told y
ou”, Jack says. “Today doesn’t change anything.”

  “I hope not”, I say, reaching for them both. “Because now that I’ve got you, both of you, I’ll be damned if anyone’s going to take that away.”

  “They won’t”, Zach says. “They can try, but nothing will get between the three of us, you’ll see.”

  “Twenty five minutes”, Jack reminds us.

  “Then drive faster”, I say, my heart already pumping hard. “I’m reserving five minutes of that for a post-orgasmic cuddle.”

  “We can cuddle in the venue”, Jack says.

  “And that won’t look weird at all?” I say.

  “Two minutes and that’s shared between us”, Jack offers, “the rest is what I know you really want to be doing instead.”

  I can feel myself going red. “Another time”, I say, smiling. “When we’ve got more time to enjoy it.”

  “I can’t wait to hear the rest of your fantasy, Jen”, Zach says. “Something tells me we’re going to have a blast acting them out.”

  “We will”, I confess, a little embarrassed at how dirty my mind is. “That’s what those Christmas stories were for after all.”

  “Come on”, Zach says, “any more anticipation I’m going to explode.”

  Jack smiles at his brother and then looks at me. “Don’t tell me the story you gave Zach was half as long as the one you gave me?”

  The boys set about laughing. “If it was half as long”, Zach says, “It was definitely more than twice as good.”

  “That I find very difficult to believe”, Jack jokes.

  “Then I’m happy to put in more practice if you think it’s needed”, Zach says. “Maybe some one on one classes so I get to become an expert. What do you say, Jenny?”

  It hasn’t escaped my attention that we’ve already arrived.

  “I say, get in the house, get undressed, get into bed and keep your mouths shut. You are both absolutely perfect as you are and we’re running out of time while you sit here and discuss it.”

  “Done”, the boys say in unison, and they are out of the car and up by the front door waiting for me, even before I’ve had a chance to reach for the door handle.