13. Dan
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
DAN
“Do I look all right?”
“Yes, for the hundredth time. You look amazing,” I tell Ally as we arrive at the front of an Italian restaurant in Hell’s Kitchen for the double date.
Her appearance is more than amazing. I can’t even look at her without my mind turning to filth. Thank fuck she hasn’t caught me staring. My gaze keeps traveling to the gap of skin between her pink plaid skirt and thigh-high white socks with pink satin bows at the tops. When I’m not looking at that soft strip of skin, it’s at her breasts beneath that tight white shirt.
Ally once told me she only wears clothes she thinks I’ll like. I used to get off on seeing what outfit she chose each day, knowing it was for me. Of course, Ally could have worn a sack and I’d have still thought she was the most beautiful girl in the room, but the clothes were a symbol when around our family and in public that she was secretly mine.
“Sorry. I’m nervous about this date,” she says. “I want to look nice.”
I’m fucking pissed, hearing Ally speak like that and knowing she spent the lead up to this evening prettying herself for Liam. I’ve tried talking Ally out of this date multiple times, reminding her that she’s meant to build a friendship with Liam first. But she’s impatient. She says they’ve been texting throughout the week and things are progressing well.
I hold open the restaurant door for Ally. As she steps inside, her phone buzzes and she’s quick to check it.
“Oh, that’s Liam.” She reads the message and laughs, then types something back to him. My teeth clench. I’ve never seen her like this with a guy before and it’s taking everything in me to act happy for her.
“Welcome to Dolce Trattoria,” a waiter greets us. “Do you have a reservation?”
“Yes. Blackwood,” I answer.
While the waiter checks the reservations book, a female calls out to me. “Hey, Dan.”
Both Ally and I turn, finding Chelsea walking toward us—my date for the night. She’s a model who frequents The Scarlett Mirage and is one of the many women who can often be seen hanging off Felix’s arm. After I got pissed at Felix for giving Liam Ally’s number and explained how I now needed to find a date without leading a girl on, he offered up Chelsea, saying he’d fill her in on my situation and she’d do this favor for him.
I thought having Chelsea as a date would be effortless. In hindsight, I fucked up, considering what she’s wearing. The woman looks like she’s modelling a BDSM lingerie line, with a leather skirt that does little to cover her ass, fishnet stockings, a sheer bra that reveals the outline of her nipples, and a black choker. Her lipstick is a bright pop of red, and her black hair is tied in a knot on top of her head. I know Chelsea is eclectic with her fashion; each time I’ve seen her, she looks drastically different, but how the fuck does this outfit match the friendly vibes of the date I described to her?
Chelsea slinks her arms around my neck, pressing her breasts to me. “It’s so good to see you again, Dan.”
She speaks as if we’re more than just acquaintances. I act polite and return the hug for Felix’s sake. As far as I can tell, the two of them are just fucking and not exclusively, but I’m not about to be rude and comment that her attire is inappropriate, making this situation more awkward than it already is.
“Thanks for coming tonight,” I say after she hugs me.
She looks me over and playfully pushes my arm. “Don’t you look handsome.”
“Hi,” Ally intercepts, offering no smile.
“This is your little sister?” Chelsea nods at Ally. “She’s adorable. It’s so cute that you’re setting her up.”
Ally’s cheeks are a dark shade of embarrassment and from her rigid stance it’s clear she’s not pleased with my choice in date.
“Chelsea, do you mind giving me and Ally a moment alone?”
“Sure. Don’t be too long, though, or I might get lonely.” She winks at me.
Jesus. I thought Felix explained to her she’s not a real date. Chelsea better just be a flirt and not actually want anything sexual from me tonight.
I place a hand on Ally’s upper back and guide her to the side of the restaurant entrance, out of earshot. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize she’d be dressed like this.”
Ally shrugs away from my touch and scoffs. “I just hope Liam isn’t staring at your date’s nipples all night long. You could have picked better. This was supposed to be a casual and fun night. Now we all have sex shoved in our faces.”
“I’ll give Chelsea my jacket.”
Ally’s gaze flicks behind me and a grin wipes away the scowl on her face.
“Hey, stranger,” a guy says.
I turn and find Liam. He’s wearing jeans and has a black hoodie pulled over his head. He pushes the hood back and scoops Ally into a hug, lifting her off her toes. I can barely believe what I’m witnessing and hate the way he’s touching her. What I hate even more is the laugh she gives, and that when he places her back on her feet, she’s a blushing mess. There’s no nervous avoidance of eye contact like I’ve so often seen from Ally when she’s around new people. Her shoulders aren’t tensing up. She’s into him and not just as a friend. That must have been some amazing phone conversation between them. This is all a fucking mess and was never meant to play out this way.
“Wow, you look stunning,” Liam tells her.
“Thank you.” She takes the compliment with another shy laugh. “Ah… you know Dan. And this is his date, Chelsea.”
Liam shakes my hand. He says a polite hello to Chelsea, disinterested in her lack of clothing, then addresses all of us. “All right, are we ready to head through to the table? I’ve eaten here before. The food is really good.”
“Dan, should the two of us share a pizza?”
I barely hear Chelsea’s question, even though she’s sitting right beside me in this booth. All I can focus on is the display in front of me, of Ally sending Liam the most gorgeous smiles she only ever reserves for me. The two of them haven’t stopped chatting in the ten minutes we’ve been seated. It’s like they’re on their own date and no one else exists.
“Dan?” Chelsea repeats.
“What? Oh, yes, the pizza is fine.” As soon as I answer the question, my focus returns to Ally and Liam.
They’re reading one menu together. Neither one of them are paying much attention to the food selection, continuously stopping to exchange words. “I’m going to order a pasta,” Ally tells him. “So, who are your favorite musicians?”
“That’s an easy one.” Liam closes the menu and drapes an arm over the backrest behind Ally, angling his body into their conversation. He’s not touching her, but any onlooker could tell they’re on a date.
My blood boils, watching such a simple yet intimate gesture. I can’t recall having ever felt this jealous over something so minor. I’ve never been able to show affection to Ally in public. I even need to be careful how I look at her in public, otherwise people will catch on to this secret between us. If she weren’t my stepsister, I know without doubt she’d be my girlfriend. I’d have her sleeping in my bed every night, naked and satiated and filled with my cum.
“My favorites are Louis Armstrong, Duke Ellington, Ella Fitzgerald, and Miles Davis,” Liam says. “You probably aren’t familiar with them. They’re all jazz.”
“I can’t name any of their music, but I know their names. This is kind of nerdy but there’s this coin set I’ve been collecting. It consists of famous musicians in history, and those artists you mentioned are in the collection.”
Liam’s eyebrows rise with disbelief. “Don’t tell me you’re referring to The Greats of Music coin collection. ”
Ally gives a surprised laugh. “Yes. How do you know about it?”
“I’ve been collecting those coins too. Wow, this is fate, I swear. I’ve never met anyone my age who collects them. My brother always teases me. Says it’s for grandparents.”
Ally licks her lips—another small gesture that fucks me up completely. Poker has made me well attuned to reading body language. She likes Liam. She’s even thinking about kissing him.
Chelsea’s hand slides to my inner thigh beneath the table. I push it away, but she gets the wrong idea and thinks I’m trying to hold her hand and weaves our fingers. She’s got some kink for brothers? I’m going to kill Felix the next time I see him.
I break free from her grip by waving the waitress over. “I assume we’re all ready to order?” I ask the group.
Ally and Liam give me a quick yes before returning to their conversation about coins. I shove my fists into my pockets to avoid any more hand holding. Something pointed grazes against my right hand, and it takes me less than a second to realize what it is—a corner of the deck of cards I’ve started carrying around again. The neon cards Ally bought me. I pull them out and start shuffling, needing to calm down.
“How many of the coins do you have?” Ally asks Liam. Her gaze flicks to my shuffling, not seeming the least bit fazed until she recognizes the neon cards.
Her smile drops and she’s staring at them, in a world of her own while Liam answers her question, perhaps remembering everything the cards symbolize between us. Ally glares at me, as if I pulled the cards out on purpose to sabotage her date, then returns her focus to Liam.
“The coins are expensive, so I’ve been prioritizing the jazz composers,” Liam says. “I have all of them except George Gershwin.”
“Oh, I have him!” Ally gasps. “It took me five years to track him down and ten thousand dollars. It was an eighteenth birthday present from my parents.”
“You’re serious? There are only ten of George Gershwin in the world. You have to show me sometime.”
“Yeah, of course I will.”
“Wait, so you were collecting these coins when you were thirteen?”
She gives a shy smile and chews on her bottom lip. “Yeah, weird, huh?”
Liam smiles right back at her. “Definitely weird, but I like it.”
Oh, fuck off. I’ve never seen anyone geek out over this stuff as much as Ally. I picked well for her when thinking of Liam. Perhaps a little too well. But there’s no way I’ll stand back and let him take her from me.
The waitress steps up to the table and asks for our order. As Liam lists off the items he’d like, Ally looks at Chelsea, at the sheer bra she’s wearing, and scowls. I said I’d give Chelsea my jacket but never did. I shrug out of my jacket and drape it across Chelsea’s shoulders.
“Thanks, handsome.” Chelsea kisses me on the cheek.
Ally groans, and when I look back at her, she’s throwing daggers at me with her eyes. The anger in her expression pleases me. Perhaps I’m not the only one of us who feels possessive.
I try not to smirk, but seeing Ally like this is fucking hot, igniting so much anger in her, all from offering another girl my jacket. She’s told me before she doesn’t like seeing me with other girls—it was the first time I walked in on Ally touching herself, and I asked what she thinks about to get turned on.
“You, fucking me. Only me. You want me and no one else. No other girl turns you on.”
I wipe a hand over my mouth, covering the smirk I worked hard to keep at bay. My sweet little stepsister was the jealous type before Paris. Apparently, not much has changed. She’s trying real hard to move on from me, but my queen is still in there.