Chapter 4
1190 Words
~~LOLA~~
I scoffed.
“Nutcracker? Don't call me that!” my lips thinned in both fury and exasperation.
“Seems accurate.” He mused.
“How are you here? I left you at that bay? Are you stalking me? Taking advantage of my situation and my head?!” I spewed, pouring every frustration I've had to hold back into every syllable. “What are you doing in my house?”
He leaned back against the kitchen island, never breaking eye contact. He had a mass of muscles on his shoulder that flexed when he bent his body to focus his attention on me.
I flushed red.
“And what's your situation, Nutcracker?” He asked. “If you’d stayed longer in the bay with me, none of that would have happened.”
My heart flipped at the smug confidence in his voice.
For someone who was all broody the previous day and a little push away from committing murder, he was chatty now and I disliked both sides of him.
“And what do you know happened?” I felt like a puffer fish, swelling with every passing second I had to stand here under this jerk’s scrutiny.
“A lot more than I ought to.” He said.
I opened my mouth to throw a retort when voices and footsteps cut in loudly from outside the kitchen walls. I guess everyone was in now.
Hockey guy straightened and tossed something at me; his shirt.
Something I hadn't even noticed he was holding all along.
“You are in my house now, don't walk around like that.”
Was this real?
This was truly his house?
And don't walk around like what? I looked down at my body and went berserk with horror. The damp shirt stuck to my chest and it wasn't helping that my breast outlines were brazenly visible.
I pressed his shirt up against my chest in mortification.
A smirk ghosted over his lips.
There was no way this was happening to me. There was no way this guy was really standing right there and not vanishing, there was no…
Someone else wandered in, yawning, one hand shoved into the front of his sweatpants with the other furiously typing away at his phone.
Colour drained off my face.
I went dizzy, but hockey guy was already right in front of me.
How he got there so quickly was way beyond me as he caught my arms into his grip before I could drop.
“Easy.”
His voice was a low dangerous echo that lodged in my chest.
The hard plane of his abs was in my face, why was he so ripped? How tall was he? I dragged my eyes off his body to his face… I could see dark stubble ghosting over the sharp plane of his jaw. His eyes were a charming mixture of both slightly hooded and sleepy.
“No, wait…” I snapped out of the trance, my face going pale as I tried pulling away from him to stare at the other person behind.
“What the hell are you doing here?” I whispered in hurt.
Ryan was standing right there, staring at me, at us. He wasn't panicking, nor did his face hold any remorse; instead, his fist balled by his side in visible anger.
I wanted to break out of the hands holding me and go slap him but hockey guy was creating an obstruction.
Before I could even process what was happening, Mom appeared at the door with some older man by her side. He was a silver fox with a striking resemblance that I recognized as Ryan’s and… this guy before me.
I was heaving now, realization dawning before anyone said a word.
Mom was right there, pulling me away from hockey guy in concern.
Her palm pressed flat on my forehead.
“You are burning hot.” she raised an alarm.
No, I was one second away from passing out.
“W…who are they?” I heard myself ask.
“Yes, right.” She beamed as the older man walked over to us.
“This is Cole, your step-father.”
Cole placed a warm palm on my shoulder, his face breaking into a smile. “We were worried about you last night, Lola. I’m glad you are finally here with us.”
I blinked in search of my voice, my throat dry. “T…Thank you, Cole?”
He nodded encouragingly.
Mom squealed in delight. “Say hi to your brothers.” she pushed me forward to stand before Ryan who wasn’t even trying to hide the fury in his eyes.
He had so many damn nerves, I would have applauded him if Mom and her husband weren't here.
As for… the other guy, my eyes shifted to where he stood in front of an open fridge, now backing us. I ogled at him—from his broad shoulders to the rigid firmness of his toned back as he chugged down a bottle of water, his Adam's apple bobbing.
Brother? Step-Brother?
Now the damn resemblance was glaring. It had been there all along and I failed to see it.
My palms turned clammy at my side, eyes already bulging red at the brink of tears.
“Hi…” my voice quivered as I forced a wave at Ryan.
“This is Ryan Vaughn, honey.” Mom gestured, then pointed towards his brother's direction. “That's our NHL star, Dane Vaughn… I’m sure you must have heard of him at school.
No, I didn't know who he was until yesterday. I only learnt his full name just now and I feared I had no idea how big a deal he was.
“They are your stepbrothers. They met Sam already, I hope you all can get along as siblings.”
Mom was doing too much revealing and it wasn't helping.
There was no way in hell that my boyfriend was my stepbrother and absolutely no f*****g way, that tall intimidating hockey player was his brother, and also on the stepbrother train.
My head swirled.
“Okay.” I forced a smile. “I’m sick, I want to lie my head now.”
The tension in the room thickened.
Both boys were staring now.
Unfortunately, Mom noticed my uneasiness. Her eyes equally darted over all three of our faces with suspicion.
“Are you okay sweetheart?” She brought her face down to mine, her eyes searching. “Are those tears?”
She did not just say that out loud...
“Of course not.” I pulled away from her, already shuffling towards the kitchen exit.
“It's all right Lola, you have all the time to settle in and adjust properly.”
Cole’s voice came as soon as my hand hit the door’s knob.
But I couldn't bring myself to look back, lest I burst into tears and embarrass myself further there.
“Thank you.” I walked briskly towards the stairs before breaking into a loose run up them.
My brain was fried and I needed twelve hours of long sleep to recover from this nightmare.
- Writer
