Addiction

Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Drawing harshly on a cigarette, Logan paced up and down outside the converted barn, his shoes scuffing the pebbles lining the drive. He paused to pick at the topiary ball hidden underneath all the fairy lights standing as sentinel.

Figures that the first girl that caught his eye turned out to be his new sister. s**t and double s**t. And if he remembered the conversation he'd had with his father about Sophie, she was only sixteen, too. Triple s**t. Not that he could have done anything about it, no matter how old she was – she was still his sister. Stepsister, his subconscious told him. Didn't matter.

He pulled his phone out to call his mother like he'd said he would, but hesitated. Quickly dialing his best friend, Janet – who he'd met in kindergarten and promptly formed a life-long friendship with because she liked to wear dungarees and play with trucks, rather than the normal frou-frou and dollies – he took a deep breath.

“Hey handsome,” she breathed into the phone. “Missing me yet?”

“Always, Jan,” he told her with a snort. Janet was the only girl he'd ever met who had no confidence issues in the slightest, working her curves like a pro, even though common opinion told her she had to lose weight. He loved her for it.

“So what's up? What are the 'rents like?”

“Despicable,” he lied.

“Really?”

“Nah, they're okay, I guess. The old man is still the same ole, same ole. His wife is the typical trophy and the daughter...” he hesitated.

“What about the daughter?” Janet asked in amused tones.

Logan sat on a small wooden bench off the side of the door. “She's alright.”

“Oh, my God!” The squeal was supersonic, making his eardrums vibrate. He held the phone away from his face and glared at it.

“Please don't do that,” he told her, still holding the phone away.

“Sorry!” she squealed. “Sorry.” It was a more normal volume this time. “It's just...”

“What?” he snapped, knowing she could see right through him, even on the phone.

“You like her!”

“Of course I like her, she's my new stepsister.” Even he caught the tone of disgust at the end of his statement.

“No, Logan. You like her, like her! Omigosh! What are you going to do, you sick puppy?”

Was he a sick puppy? He hadn't known who she was when he'd met her. He hadn't had a chance to prime his reactions to her. To set in motion those brotherly feelings he was supposed to have. But then again, he was an eighteen year old guy, with the s*x-drive to match, and he'd probably have found a nun appealing since he hadn't had a girlfriend in months. No, he decided, he wasn't sick, he was just horny. As soon as he sorted that out, things would progress more smoothly with his new relations.

“I'm going to get laid,” he told Janet.

“Are you f*****g kidding me?” He could practically see her wide, shocked eyes. “You're going to lay your new sister? Just like that? Isn't she like, sixteen or something?” She paused. “I'm not sure I want to be friends with you anymore.”

“Janet stop, for the love of God. No. I'm not going to lay my new sister. Jesus.” He expelled a harsh breath. “And as for not wanting to be my friend anymore? You could no more stop being my friend than you could stop being female.”

“There's an operation for that, you know?”

“For not being my friend? Jeez, it must be a common complaint.”

“No silly,” she giggled. “For changing my gender. So you see, I could stop being your friend if I really wanted to.”

“Ah,” he sighed into the phone. “But you don't want to, do you?”

A heartbeat of a pause, during which he considered hanging up. “No. You're like my own personal confessional,” she admitted. “I could never stop talking to you.”

“You could never stop talking full stop, Janet.”

“Oh hush. Tell me everything.”

He knew exactly what she wanted to know, and refused to tell her. “I'm not giving you details until you get your mind out of the gutter,” he informed her sternly. “Do you hear me? Stop thinking dirty thoughts.”

“But they're the most fun ones.”

“I know,” he sighed. “Okay, I need to go.”

“Aww, really? But you've only just called!”

“Yeah but some of us have a family function to attend. I can't spend all night out here on the phone to you.”

“You mean you can't spend all night hiding from that hot sister of yours, haha. Go, Logan. Go forth and get laid. Hell, it might even take that stick out of your ass.” She cackled like a hag and hung up on him. What a b***h. If he didn't love her so much he'd hate her for throwing the truth in his face.

“Was that your girlfriend?”

Speaking of sisters, she was currently propping up the door frame, one slender ankle crossed over the other, goosebumps decorating her arms. Deciding whether or not to tell the truth, he came to the conclusion that his having a fictitious girlfriend would go a long way in helping him stay the hell away from Sophie. “That was Janet,” he told her with a nod. Not exactly a lie, but enough of an omission that she could draw her own conclusions.

She nodded once, the loose curls bobbing about her face. “Do you love her?”

“I do,” he admitted, watching her flinch. “What are you doing out here? It's freezing.”

She rubbed her hands up and down her arms in an effort to warm them and smiled at him. “I wondered where you'd got to. Dinner is getting cold.”

He'd completely forgotten about the dinner, sitting there with his phone in his hands and his mind on his sister. The thought of shoveling roast beef into his mouth just now turned his stomach. “I'm not hungry.”

“Me either. The chicken is dry.” She shrugged one shoulder, jiggling a breast and Logan found himself stuck to the bench, lest she see exactly what he was hungry for. Damn it, he couldn't walk around like this. What sort of pervert was he that he couldn't control himself next to his sixteen year old sister? Stepsister, his subconscious once again trilled. “I'm just gonna chill here for a bit,” he told her.

Taking the hint, she uncrossed her ankles and smiled, turning to head back in. “I'll see you a bit later.”

He nodded, unwilling to reply to the hopeful tone of her voice. Seeing her later would be a mistake. One he could ill-afford. His entire future was on the line here. He'd turned down placements in several colleges closer to home, in the hopes of getting in to the university here – the courses on architecture and design here were so much more expanded than anywhere else – and his father had offered to pay his tuition, which he couldn't have afforded on his own without juggling a couple of part-time jobs on the side. Time that he could have spent studying.

When Harry had left, he'd taken every penny with him, leaving his mom to rely on family and friends until she'd gotten on her own two feet. He didn't think he'd ever forgive his father for that, and if paying Logan's college fees put him even a little bit out, Logan was only too delighted.

By the time he felt more or less in control of his body, the dinner was over, the speeches had been made and the cake was in the process of being cut. Logan snorted at the picture Harry and Marie made as they teased each other with frosting-covered fingers, Marie scored a direct hit, landing a blob of white icing on his father's nose. Harry laughed delightedly and kissed his new bride, smearing the stuff all over her cheeks. She used a napkin to wipe it off, her eyes glowing with...dare he say it? Love.

“They look good together, don't they?”

It was Sophie again, and someone had let her have another glass or two of champagne – she was weaving on her feet, her words slightly slurred.

“How much have you had to drink? And who is the moron serving you?” She was much too young for alcohol, and the fact that some i***t in here kept serving her drinks was infuriating.

“Taylor,” she gestured with her glass, sloshing some over the side with a small giggle. “I know him from school, though he's never been so nice to me before tonight.” She gazed at him in drunken speculation.

The hell? “Give me that.” He snatched the glass from her fingers, depositing the liquid into a conveniently placed potted plant.

“Hey!” She tried to grab the glass and ended up falling over that damn dress again, landing in an awkward slouch against his chest. His heart beat faster at her proximity. He told it roughly to stop being such a perv, and grasped her by the upper arms. “Someone needs to take you home.”

“Everybody's too wasted,” she replied. “I can walk.”

“Can you?” he asked with a raised brow as she swayed from left to right. “I don't think so.”

“So be a good brother and bring me to bed.”

“What?” His pants were starting to feel a bit tight, and he viciously reprimanded himself.

She snorted, her nose wrinkling in shocked merriment. “You know what I mean. Take me home. I don't feel very well.”

*