Falling For My Hockey Stepbrother

Never Again

“Look at yourself, Siri. Do you honestly think that someone like me could love you? Do you think anyone, for that matter, could love you? No. You’re f*****g pathetic, and will only ever be a plaything. You were a bet. An easy one. So clean those tears and get out.”

I remembered the pain in my scalp where he had gripped my hair. I remembered the burn in my eyes as I sobbed. I remembered the pain, the humiliation, and vowing to myself, “Never again.”

I remembered that vow again today as I looked into another's eyes, as I looked at another handsome face. I remembered it when I was starting to falter. It sent a shock up to my brain, and I snapped out of it.

I ripped my hand away from him and shot to my feet. I pointed to the door, my teeth bared. “Get. Out.”

He remained on the floor, staring up at me with a tight expression. His head lowered as he sighed, his hand passing through his hair. He stood up, tension in his jaw even as he said, “I’m sorry.”

“Out,” I snarled, still pointing at the door.

He nodded, turned, and walked to the door.

But before he left, he turned back to me, a look I couldn't decipher in his eyes, and then he was gone. When the door closed behind him with a soft click, my legs gave out, and I crashed to the floor, my chest burning.

“Don’t ever forget,” I choked out, hitting my chest. “Don’t ever, ever forget, you fool.”

But how could I? Even though I wanted to, how could I?

That was the darkest part of my life. A time when I was drowning, and there was no one to pull me out. Sure, I pulled myself out, but I almost gave up and just let the water fill my lungs and take me. So never again. I wasn't going to fall for another handsome face again.

I wasn't going to think about Jackson. I wasn't going to think about how this night had made me burn.

~.~

But it was f*****g hard not to think of my stepbrother when everywhere you turned at school, he was all they were talking about.

“I have never seen anybody play hockey like that.”

“He looked so hot, God!”

“I couldn't stop myself from drooling!”

Girls, boys, even the professors talked about him.

It was f*****g hell.

I wanted to yell and tell them to shut up.

I was trying hard not to think about last night.

Not to think about that dark, sexy look in his eyes, or the slight shake in his deep voice, or the bulge in his pants that even to this very moment I could still feel in my hand. I didn't want to think about what he said of him f*****g someone else while still thinking about me.

I refuse to think about that.

I released a breath as I splashed water on my face, looking at my face in the mirror. Bags under my eyes screamed that I hadn't slept last night. Even my braid wasn't as tight as it always is.

I was a mess.

“See?” I whispered. “This is what happens when you let a man into your life. Don’t, okay?”

But then… his words from last night wouldn't stop haunting me. Those words: “I’m looking, and I still want you.”

They kept replaying in my head, and my eyes trailed from my face and down to my body.

I was wearing a large brown sweater and black high-waist pants. But no matter how tight or high-waisted the pants were, they couldn't hide the roundness of my stomach. And the tightness of the pants did nothing to hide my thighs.

“Yeah, right,” I muttered, my voice hard as I turned away. “Yeah, f*****g right.”

I picked up my bag and was about to leave the restroom, but then Sandra walked in.

I paused as our eyes met, and held.

In the past, I might have looked away, kept my head low, but not anymore. When she said nothing and just watched me with that harsh gaze, none of that fake nonsense from that day visible, I kept walking.

I was about to walk past her when she said, “I heard your father got married again.”

I paused, not turning to her.

She went on. “What number is she? Wife number three?”

“Four,” I corrected, my voice giving nothing away.

She scoffed harshly, turning to me, her eyes filled with bitterness. “Do you have no shame?”

I looked into her eyes. “None. But tell me, Sandra, what should I be ashamed of? Did I kneel with my father and propose to the women? Did I confess my undying love to them? What crime have I committed except being his daughter?”

“Exactly that,” she shot, getting riled up, when I was the one being bullied.

I scoffed as I turned away from her. “Maybe if I had had the option of choosing my father, and chose a d**k like him, then that would have been my crime. But since I didn't, I believe I'm innocent.” I walked away. “Find a new way to try and make me miserable, Sandra. That s**t is getting old and boring now.”

I left the restroom, sighing through my nose. Maybe I should move out of town? But I had no money, so I'd have to endure at least for now, and till I graduate. Then I would leave this stupid town and never look back.

As I walked down the hall, I saw him, surrounded by people, and yet he wasn't even paying any mind to them.

His attention was on his phone, his expression flat. But then I saw a slight tension in his jaw, and he raised his head. His eyes met mine, that flat expression falling away and giving way to something almost… tender.

I looked away from him and kept walking. As I walked past him, I still felt his eyes on me, but I didn't turn my head, even as I could feel my heart slamming against my ribcage, as if saying, “Look at him, stupid.”

“You’re the stupid one,” I muttered under my breath as I kept walking. “You’ve always been the stupid one.”