BRIX: A Stepbrother Bully Romance (A Rebels Havoc Book 1)

by Brooke O'Brien

  She laughs. The sound coming out both sexy and frustrating. Her head is thrown back and strands of her long, dark hair are falling over her shoulder.

  “The fact you think I give a shit about you or would even consider wasting another second on your bullshit is hilarious.”

  Well, okay then. It still doesn’t answer the question of why the hell she is in my house?

  As if reading my mind, she continues, “I’m actually wondering the same thing.” She clenches her jaw. She looks so fucking sexy, the way her cheeks turn rosy. If this is how she looks when she’s mad, I can’t wait to see her when she’s turned on.

  “Like I said, sweetheart”—I lean forward, bracing my hands on my knees to stand— “this is my house. I live here.”

  Facing her now, the subtle tick in her jaw at the term of endearment does not escape me. Anger blazes in her eyes when she crosses her arms in front of her chest. She widens her stance like she’s gearing up for the argument that’s about to ensue.

  “Are you sure you still don’t want to take me up on my offer from last night? I have no problem letting you take a little aggression out on me.”

  I reach my hand out, brushing my knuckle along the ink covering her forearm. Goose bumps rise over her skin, and despite her best effort to paste the look of hatred on her face, her body gives her away. She’s trying to play it off, hoping like hell I won’t notice, but I flash her a grin letting her know she’s not fooling me.

  “Something tells me the hate-sex will be some of the best fucking I’ve ever had,” I moan, wrapping my hand around her wrist.

  She grits her teeth, whipping her arm out of my hold. Seeing how riled up she is, I bite my lip to cover my bemused smile. I have a feeling I’m going to enjoy letting her take her anger out on me.

  Nails in my back, teeth marking my skin. Fuck.

  “If you think I’d ever let your dick anywhere near me, you’ve gotta be fuckin’ crazy. I bet you have shit growing on you from all the places that thing’s been.”

  “You better watch your fuckin’ mouth,” I grunt, tension coiling in my body, taking a step closer to her. She smiles like the Cheshire cat, apparently liking how she’s pissed me off.

  Yeah, the hate-sex is gonna be real fuckin’ good for the both of us.

  A familiar sound of keys sliding into the lock followed by the click of the deadbolt has us both turning toward the door. Laughter filters through the room, and my eyes bounce back over to Ivy. The smell of her clean scent washes over me; the way her throat bobs when she swallows ignites a fire within me.

  “Mother?” Ivy says, sounding both surprised and lighter. Like happiness was wrapped around one simple word. That is until I realize it’s my father and his fiancée, Charlene, staring back at us.

  For a second, I wonder if they heard us arguing from outside.

  “Ivyana,” she replies, smiling, and it all clicks into place.

  My mind filters through the several conversations we’ve had about her daughter, Ivyana. The daughter who graduated high school with honors and has a nearly perfect GPA at the University of North Carolina.

  Ivy is Ivyana. What the hell is wrong with me? Why didn’t it click into place until now? I’ve never heard her called by her full name, not even when we were back in high school.

  “Hi, Mother.” She grins, crossing the distance between them to wrap her in a hug. The snarky tone she threw at me a moment ago is completely gone, replaced with something else entirely.

  Reaching my hand up behind my neck, I massage my fingers into my skin in hopes of easing the tension.

  “I’m so happy to see you, honey. I’ve missed you.”

  Already over this bullshit, I begin picking up the beer cans strewn over the coffee table along with the ones knocked over onto the floor.

  “Brix, what the hell happened here?”

  It wouldn’t be a typical day if my father wasn’t finding some reason to lay into me.

  “What’s it look like? I had a few drinks last night after my show. I’ll fuckin’ clean it up, alright? Chill out.”

  Holding the cans in my palm, I brush past my father, stalking into the kitchen. Like whiplash, the once happy moment between Ivy and her mom is gone.

  “This can’t happen anymore. You hear me? Just because I let you live here doesn’t mean you can treat my place like a dumpster.”

  “Yeah, I got it.”

  “I’m serious, Brix,” he demands, raising his voice even louder, “turn around and look at me.”

  Tossing the cans into the recycle bin, I turn the faucet on and wash my hands before grabbing the towel. Resting my hip on the edge of the counter, I stare at him with a look I hope says get on with it already.

  “This cannot happen anymore.”

  “I heard you the first time. I said I got it.”

  Charlene whispers something to him about waiting until later to have this talk. He nods, apparently ready to let it go.

  We only agreed I’d stay here because I promised to help look after the place. His job has him traveling a lot. Even when he’s in town between trips, he usually stayed at the apartment near his office. It got to the point he was either going to sell the house or hire a groundskeeper.

  “I’m glad to see you’ve met Ivyana. She’s Charlene’s daughter. You may remember us discussing her staying here for the summer. I didn’t want the two of you to meet this way.” He glances at Ivy, and she flashes him a warm smile as he says, “It’s good to see you again.”

  Again? I thought.

  “I didn’t want you to meet this way,” he repeats, “or for you two to find out under these circumstances.” His eyes bounce back over to Charlene. She steps closer to him, grabbing his hand.

  Ivy’s eyes widen in bewilderment as if hanging on his every word waiting for what bomb he’s about to drop. I know what’s about to come before the words are even out of his mouth.

  “Charlene and I… while we were away on vacation, we decided to get married.”

  “What the—?” I stammer.

  At the same moment, Ivy says, “Oh my God!”

  “Are you serious?” I scoff.

  My father’s eyes lock on mine, and I can see the daggers he’s shooting my way the moment they do.

  If he thinks I’m going to stay here and play house with them, he’s out of his damn mind.

  “Now you listen here, I won’t tolerate any of your comments. If you have something to say, I suggest you swallow it. I don’t have the time or patience to hear you anymore.”

  Tossing the towel in my hand to the counter, I cross my arms over my chest.

  Ignoring my father’s glare, I focus on Ivy. Her hand covers her mouth, and a dazed look shrouds her eyes when she peers over at me.

  What the fuck?

  If they are married, this makes Ivy, or should I say Ivyana, my sister. Judging by the wide-eyed look on her face, it’s apparent the same thought just hit her, too.

  I told my stepsister I wanted to fuck all my frustration out on her. Good fucking lord.

  “I can’t believe it, Mom,” Ivy says, hugging her once again. Charlene holds her hand out between the two of them to show her the ring. Of course, like every one of my father’s wives, they can’t help but gush over their five-carat diamond ring.

  “Wow, Mom,” she says in awe, reaching for her hand, “it’s beautiful.”

  “Well, let’s hope you signed a prenup with this one. Huh, Dad?” I snicker, crossing through the kitchen toward the staircase leading to my bedroom.

  “Brix Carter Ward, don’t fucking move.”

  I stop momentarily, waiting for whatever insults he wants to hurl my way. Although, he’s always been one to say them without other watchful eyes around us, so I know the real jabs will come later when it’s just the two of us.

  “I won’t tolerate you talking bad about Charlene or our marriage. If you have a problem, I suggest you find a way to keep your mouth shut, or you can get the hell out of here.”

  “You got
it,” I mutter, deadpan.

  “By that, I mean you aren’t allowed at the beach house either. If you’re out of here, you’re on your own.”

  “Whatever. Congratulations, Charlene. You picked a real winner.”

  Not bothering to look her in the eyes as I say it, I stalk up the stairs toward my room.

  Passing by the bathroom, I find the guest room door next to mine open. Pausing in the doorway, I notice the bed sitting directly across from me left unmade and two suitcases standing near the foot of the bed.

  It looks like Ivy’s made herself at home in her new house, in the bedroom next to mine. I can tell already it’s gonna be a long fuckin’ summer.

  Three

  Ivy

  Standing with my jaw half hung open, I’m stunned. Not only did my mom drop the bomb she’s married, but Brix, the same prick from my high school years, is now my stepbrother.

  Until two weeks ago, I didn’t think I’d see the day my mother would ever dream of getting married again. She had always remained adamant marriage wasn’t for her. She hadn’t even dated anyone seriously, at least not to my knowledge, for the topic to even come up.

  “Mom, I just…I’m… wow! I can’t believe it,” I mutter, eyes wide. Shaking myself from my thoughts, I hold her hand, staring down at the beautiful rock on her finger. It’s stunning, huge, and honestly looks so out of place sitting perfectly on her finger.

  “Congratulations.”

  What doesn’t look out of place is the beaming smile on her face. The joy she’s radiating is a glow I haven’t seen her wear in a very long time. Immediately, I want to say something to smooth over the bitter comments Brix just spewed.

  His father may have other ex-wives or reasons for believing a prenup is necessary, but I know without a doubt, my mom wouldn’t care either way. She’s not a money-hungry, materialistic woman. Whatever he thinks could happen between them, he’s wrong about her.

  “I’m so happy for you.” I smile, and I mean it genuinely.

  “Thank you, honey. It means a lot to me to hear this coming from you. I’m so glad to have you home.”

  “Thanks, Mom.” She flashes me a warm smile, tears filling her beautiful green eyes. I hate seeing her cry, so I pull her into another hug.

  “If you don’t mind, I’m going to go freshen up. Our flight was early, and I want to get out of these clothes.”

  “Yeah, of course.” I step back when she leans down to adjust her carry-on over her shoulder, reaching for the handle on her luggage.

  “I need to get everything situated, too. I’m in the room down the hall on the left. I hope that’s the right one?”

  “Absolutely,” Jasper states. “Make yourself at home. Please ignore my son, too. He’s mouthy and inconsiderate sometimes, but I believe the man I raised him to be is still in there somewhere.”

  Jasper reaches his hand out, stopping my mother’s steps. He takes her luggage and she leans in to kiss him on his cheek, smiling as she walks across the living room toward their bedroom.

  Picking up my tennis shoes I dropped in the entryway last night, I quickly tie them on my feet, grab my water, and head out the front door.

  Originally, I planned to get in a quick run, but with so many thoughts swirling around my head, I decide against it. Sticking my earbuds in, I click the call button on my phone.

  “Hey,” Kyla’s heavy sigh greets me, followed by a light, rustling sound.

  “Hey, sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you up.”

  “It’s all good. I need to get my ass out of bed anyway. What’s up? You sound serious…” She pauses. “Is everything alright?”

  “Not at all.” I run my hand over the top of my hair, wrapping the strands of my ponytail around my fist.

  “Uh, oh. What happened?”

  “You know how I told you my mom got engaged? It turns out they went and got married. You’ll never guess to who.”

  “WHO?” Her voice raises like three octaves, causing me to hold the phone away from my face, wincing.

  “Jasper Ward. Brix’s dad.”

  For a second, I think the line disconnects when she goes completely silent.

  “You there?”

  “No fuckin’ way!”

  “Yeah…” I trail off.

  When I reach the end of the street, I make a left turn, heading down the long hill leading through the neighborhood. I take in the sight of the sun rising in the distance, the quiet sounds of nature waking up around me. If my mind wasn’t carried away in the shitstorm I left behind me, I would’ve stopped to admire its beauty.

  “Why do I feel like there is more to this story?”

  “Well, I woke up to find Brix half-naked, hungover, and passed out on the couch.”

  She laughs. “Sounds about right.”

  “He had the nerve to bring up last night. We got into a heated argument, and the asshole had the gall to say something about how the hate-sex was going to be the best he’s ever had or some bullshit.”

  My mind drifts off remembering the look on his face when he said it. Brix is sexy in a rugged sort of way. He knows it, too, and he uses his good looks and charm to get whatever he wants. He’s the type of guy your parents warn you to stay away from, but the one all the girls wish they could claim.

  Brix isn’t the type of guy you want to be mixed up with. He’s a notorious player. He may have a reputation for being excellent in bed, but he’ll wreak havoc on your heart.

  Not to mention, he’s now my stepbrother.

  “Why does it sound like you’re wondering if he’s right?”

  “Excuse me?” My voice is now high-pitched, calling me out on my own bluff.

  Alright, so the thought crossed my mind. Sue me.

  Kyla’s obnoxious laughter barks through the phone, and I regret even telling her about it in the first place.

  “I thought you were supposed to listen to me vent. You’re not helping right now.”

  “Helping with what? You’re the one thinking about what it’d be like to screw Brix.”

  “Still not helping.”

  “Alright, alright,” she sighs. “I’m sorry. Seriously, could you imagine if last night had gone differently and you had gone home with him? How traumatized you would’ve been waking up and doing the walk of shame as your mom walked through the front door?”

  “Oh. My. God. We’re not friends anymore. This conversation is over.”

  “Okay, sorry. I’m done.”

  “Thank you.”

  “For today.”

  “Kyla,” I chide, “I’m about to hang up on you.”

  “Alright, fine. I’ll stop. At least tell me what happened.”

  I spend the next twenty minutes walking through the streets of my new neighborhood venting about how terrible my morning was. Growing up, we mostly lived in apartments. It was only my mom and me, so it wasn’t like we needed a ton of space.

  Looking at some of these houses, their perfectly manicured lawns, and their white picket fences, I feel oddly out of place. This wasn’t, and never has been, our world. As much as I hate the idea of living in the same house with Brix, the thought of taking a dip in their massive pool I spotted outside does sound relaxing.

  “I have to figure out what I’m going to do for a job while I’m back. I need to save up money, which will also get me out of the house. Got any ideas?”

  “Why don’t you apply at Whiskey Barrel?”

  Thinking back to the bar we met up at last night, I consider her suggestion. It was packed for most of the night. I can only imagine the tips the bartenders rake in on a Friday night alone.

  “I’ll consider it. I need to figure something out soon, though.”

  We make plans to meet up for lunch early next week as I finish up the rest of my walk. Just as I’m turning to head back up the driveway toward the house, I’ve decided I’ll turn in an application at Whiskey Barrel.

  While it may not be the best idea, considering it’s Brix’s stomping ground, I need a job, and in a couple
months, I’ll be hitting the pavement out of here anyway.

  When I make it back to the house, I quickly grab my stuff from my suitcase, not bothering to waste my time unpacking yet. I jump in the shower to clean up before heading over to the bar.

  Before I take off, I glance over the balcony down into the living room, and there’s no sign of my mom or Jasper. Just as the thought creeps into my mind, music begins blaring from the room at the end of the hallway. By the sound of the bass reverberating through the floor, I’m going to make a wild guess it’s coming from Brix’s room.

  The door is open, just barely, and against my better judgment, I take the two steps toward the door, wondering what he’s doing.

  Bracing my hand against the edge of the door frame, I hold my breath while peering through the crack.

  “Can I help you?” The sound of his voice coming from behind me sends my back collapsing against the wall, holding a hand over my chest.

  “What the hell, Brix? You scared the shit out of me.”

  “My bad. It’s my fault I snuck up behind you like I did,” he deadpans, not sounding the least bit apologetic.

  I roll my eyes, knowing he’s caught me.

  Unlike earlier when he woke up, he’s now dressed in a pair of distressed jeans and a cut-off muscle shirt with a “rock on” fist printed on the front. His hair looks wild like he ran his hand through the strands at least a dozen times.

  “So, this is what it’s like having a nosey sister. Does this mean I get to sneak into your room when you’re not home and go through your shit?”

  “You wouldn’t.” My jaw flexes.

  If I find out he’s messed with my stuff, he’s going to have a lot more to deal with than me peeking through his door.

  He takes a step toward me, crowding my space. My chest heaves with every strangled breath I take. His eyes roam over my face, dropping to my chest as he leans in. With my head pressed firmly against the wall, I have nowhere to go. He has me trapped, right where he wants me.

  “What? Would you prefer I snuck into your room when you were home?”

  My tongue darts out, licking my dry lips, trying to form a response. I watch in rapt attention when his eyes fall to my lips, his jaw clenching and nostrils flaring.