Stepbrother Untouchable(20)
Author: Colleen Masters

“She’s…yeah, she’s great,” I reply awkwardly.

“Are you having a good time at the internship? Not too much busy work, I hope.”

“No, not at all, Pierce. It’s wonderful, thank you.”

He nods. “Well, I better get back to work. You’d think I’d have gotten a lot done, considering how long I’ve been in there, but I’ve just been staring at the wall.”

“Oh, well, I’ll see you tomorrow then.”

“’Night.”

“Goodnight.” I walk back upstairs with the phone number burning a hole in my pocket. It’s amazing to me that I’ve gone from being almost sure that Pierce is lying, to feeling like I’ve betrayed his trust in the span of one short conversation with him. Is he telling the truth, or does he just possess a consummate politician’s ability to spin the story for himself?

I get ready for bed slowly, my mind wandering uncontrollably. Before this summer, I felt sure of things in my life. Sure of my ideas and opinions. Sure that I was right. But I feel less and less sure of myself the longer I stay in this house.

Just as I finish brushing my teeth, I hear a thud from the hallway, then a groan. That sounded like Nate. With a frown, I open my bedroom door. Sure enough, there’s Nate, lying on the carpet just outside his own room. I hesitate, realizing I’m wearing my little nightgown, but figure he’s seen me in it already.

“Nate? Are you OK? What happened?” I murmur, hurrying to kneel next to him. The whiff of alcohol coming off of him gives it away before he says anything.

“I’m so drunk, Brynn,” he says, beginning to laugh.

“Shhh, you’ll wake up our parents,” I admonish him. “Why are you on the floor?”

“Tripped. On my own foot,” he replies with a sigh.

“Well, come on, get up,” I order him, sliding a hand under his torso to pull him upward. He slowly obeys and stands on his feet, where he sways dangerously. “OK, now in here,” I continue, pushing his bedroom door open with my foot as I slide an arm around his back to stabilize him. I feel his muscles clench under his t-shirt as we walk. Not the time, Brynn. “Shoes off,” I order him as we reach the bed.

“Mmm,” he grunts, as he kicks them off.

“I’m getting you some water. Don’t move.” I hurry back to my bedroom and grab my water glass from the bedside table, then refill it from the tap in my bathroom before heading back to his room. I shut the door behind me to keep the noise from filtering around the house, then stop in surprise as I see that Nate has stripped down to his boxers and is standing at the foot of his bed.

“Thanks,” he slurs, as I hesitantly walk forward and hand him the water. I watch him gulp the whole glass down, the grey moonlight from the window illuminating his ripped torso. He puts the glass down on his desk and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand as he sways slightly.

“You alright?” I ask worriedly. “I’ve never seen you drunk before.”

“Don’t really drink. No time. Work, practice, work, game.”

“And I thought I was the nerd,” I tease him.

“You’re funny,” he says, cocking his head slightly, then takes a step toward me.

“Nate…” I say as my core clenches.

“Yes, Brynn?” he asks innocently.

“You said this was wrong. Those were your words,” I remind him.

“Do you think it’s wrong?” He takes another step toward me, and looks down at me.

“I—”

His hand reaches around my waist. “Does it feel wrong?”

“Yes…No,” I breathe. I barely have time to inhale before his mouth is on mine. His mouth tastes like whiskey, but I don’t care. I wrap my hands around his neck and he grabs my ass with both hands, our kiss picking up right where our last one broke off. I dig my fingers into his hair as our mouths open to one another. He pulls me roughly against him and groans deep in his throat as our bodies collide. Suddenly he stumbles back, steadying himself on my shoulders.

“Sorry,” he whispers, shaking his head as though to clear it. “Will you just stay with me for a while?”

“Yes, of course,” I reply immediately, even though I’m taken aback by his request. I watch him turn to his bed and crawl over to his pillow, then curl up on his side and look at me expectantly. I pause, then follow him, crawling across the bedspread and curling around his back. I bury my head between his shoulder blades then drape my arm over his waist, and feel him take my hand in his and pull me closer against him.

I lie as still as I can, barely breathing. I can’t believe he’s letting me touch him like this. Well, he is wasted, but still. I never thought he’d be so vulnerable around me. I hear his breathing deepen.

“I’ve always looked up to him,” he murmurs, startling me.

“I know,” I whisper back, knowing that he’s talking about his dad.

“I don’t know what I would do if he—”

“I know,” I murmur, softly kissing the back of his neck. He stills on his pillow, and his breathing slows down again.

I stay with him for a while, until I know he’s asleep. I need to understand Nate’s feelings about his mother before I tell him what she told me. His world is already falling apart around him, and I don’t want to make it happen faster. I sigh. I should probably go back to my room.

I turn over with a sigh and frown. My sheets feel different, and the light coming in from the window is much too bright. I blink my eyes open and then sit up with a gasp.

I’m in Nate’s room.

“It’s OK.” I glance up to see Nate sitting at his desk with a glass of water, his tousled hair sticking out at odd angles. “They left early this morning for meetings. Your door is closed, so they thought you were still asleep in there.”

“Oh, good,” I reply. I realize my nightgown is riding dangerously high on my thigh and pull up the sheet self-consciously.

“Coffee,” Nate says, pointing to the bedside table next to me. I glance over and see he’s placed a steaming cup there. “Cream and one sugar, right?”

“Yeah, thanks,” I reply, reaching for it.

“Sorry about last night. I don’t remember anything after I got home.”

I smile even though I’m disappointed that he doesn’t remember the kiss. “You were drunk, and just asked me to stay here for a bit. I didn’t mean to fall asleep.” I glance at the clock. “Shit, it’s almost eleven? I never sleep that late.”

“I didn’t get up ’til nine—that’s late for me.”

My mind quickly returns to my concerns from last night. “I—I know you don’t like to talk about this, but your mom—”