Casey
I have spent the last half hour, maybe more, trying to explain to my two best friends my very simple yet complex relationship with Graham. It doesn’t seem to matter how many times I say he is just my stepbrother, they don’t listen. I have repeatedly said he does not see me that way, and I don’t think of him that way, either.
Remember that, .
They don’t need to know about my crush. Or the way I assaulted him when I was sixteen. Or how he beat the shit out of my boyfriend when I was eighteen. Or anything that’s happened since his return.
Geez, that’s a lot of details left out.
“, the man looked ready to commit homicide at the release party,” Lily says for the fifth time.
Ashleigh nods as she slurps down her frozen mango margarita with gusto. “Yep. That was definitely touch her and die vibes. I could feel them from across the room. Trust me. I know the look.”
I wave them both off. “Of course, he looked like that.” I grab my Cosmo, down it, and reach for the other Lily ordered, knowing I always toss the first back fast, then sip on the second the rest of the night. “He’s always been protective. Like a big brother.” I add extra emphasis to the last word, hoping to finally get through to them.
I swear, these two… I’ve heard Ryder and Maddox referred to as the trouble twins by my dad. I think he and Uncle Henry may have snagged the female version.
“You are blind, sweetheart.” I shake my head at my determined bestie, but she ignores me and keeps talking. “That man did not look at you like you were an adorable little sister. He looked at you like you were his.”
I don’t know why she is like a dog with a bone about this—both of them. But I cannot let them get in my head. It might’ve been a silly little girl crush, but it felt like everything. It hurt so much every time I was rejected—knife in my chest, cutting my heart out. It’s not something I want to relive.
“And tonight, he looks at you like you’re his next meal.” My head snaps to her, catching the glimmer of mirth in her eyes as she lifts her drink to her lips and cuts her head to her right.
My attention jerks in the direction of her nod, and my lungs cease to work properly. How have I not noticed him twenty feet away? How long has he been there? And how long have Lily and Ashleigh noticed without saying a word?
His chocolate eyes blaze, latching onto mine the second I turn my head. I can feel the flames lapping up my neck, reaching my cheeks as I struggle not to get lost in those eyes. It’s the same look as the elevator and the library. The one that makes me question my sanity. I’m mesmerized as his tongue rakes slowly across his bottom lip before he drags it between his teeth. My ears turn to fire when he tips his drink my way with a teasing wink, making it known I am not imagining this.
The fire brushing my flesh sinks into my muscles and bones, traveling everywhere until I’m squirming in my seat from the heat licking at my core. Hot moisture pools between my thighs, and… Oh, my God, why is he so hot?
Something else flutters, too. A bubbling deep in my stomach and chest threatens to sprout wings and take flight. I swallow hard, begging the tiny flutters to die because the last thing I need is to feed my delusions again.
Then something—or rather someone behind him grabs my attention, and the flicker of hope burns to ash. Maybe I shouldn’t be relieved, but I am. This I can handle. Knowing there’s no genuine interest… That I am not now, nor will I ever be, his type keeps me in check. “You’re both projecting,” I tell my friends, nodding toward the voluptuous redhead next to him. I’ve seen her in tons of pictures with him. I may have had a weak moment or two over the years and searched him in the news. “ That is his type. Not his androgynous little stepsister.”
Lily rolls her eyes. “You are far from androgynous.” She reaches over, grabbing a handful of my boobs, making me yelp and cover. Her finger circles them. “Those are perfect. Not too small, but not too big. You don’t even have to wear a bra, and they stand at attention all by themselves. Do you know how much I’d kill for that?” Then her finger circles my face. “And there’s nothing remotely masculine about that. You look like a living doll. But even if you were, some of the most beautiful people in the world are androgynous. It’s not a bad trait, so stop with the pessimism.”
I open my mouth, ready to argue I’m not being negative. Just realistic about what Graham is attracted to when a tiny hand claps over my mouth. “You won’t win this argument, Case. She’s right. You are hot. Golden hair, tight body, legs forever. You are what women aspire to be. You’re like a fucking runway model. Why don’t you see that?” Ashleigh tells me.
Fire erupts behind my eyes, and I squeeze them shut, hoping the tears won’t fall. I feel scolded and uplifted all at once. I wish I could see myself the way they describe, but I can’t. No matter how hard I try, I see everything that’s wrong with me. Everything my mother made sure to point out, even offering to have it surgically corrected, for as long as I can remember. I hate looking in the mirror because I always hear her voice pointing out every flaw. And after my incident, the ridicule increased because of my scars. As soon as I turned eighteen, I had Jagger hook me up with his tattoo artist. I’m sure my dad would have before then, but I didn’t want to explain I wanted them to cover the damage I caused myself.
“Fine,” I agree as I force the tears back, pulling my purse to my lap and digging inside. After grabbing my mint container and dumping a couple of the small ovals in my hand, I toss them in my mouth and grab my drink. “I am not drunk enough for… any of this, anyway.”
I pretend I don’t see their curious looks as I down my drink and wave over the server for another. Fortunately, they give up fast, and Lily orders a round of tequila shots and a round of chocolate cake shots.
Great! Looks like we’re mixing our way straight to all-day hangovers tomorrow.
“Well, this is one fine as hell looking table.” Blaze Erikson appears out of thin air in front of our table with glassy eyes and a flirtatious smile. I immediately start wondering if we should tell him to go. He’s not popular with my dad or his friends, but I have no idea why. “Rumor has it congratulations are in order.” He looks at Lily, who smiles around her straw, flashing the sparkly ring my dad gave her. “Too bad.”
“You never stood a chance, but you made great bait.” She’s shameless, admitting she used him to make my dad jealous last year. “Besides, my brother would lose his shit, and we might both die.”
“Your brother is a dick,” he spits, his eyes flashing with anger.
“What’s with you two, anyway?” She asks, but I’m curious too. Why doesn’t he get along with my dad or his friends? And the entire world knows there’s no love lost between Blaze, the lead singer for Dirty Minds, and Lily’s brother, Angel.
“He likes to stick his nose where it doesn’t fucking belong. That’s what.” His jaw works back and forth for a second, then, as if nothing happened, the anger evaporates. “How about I buy you girls a round of drinks?” No sooner does he ask does the server arrives with our drinks.
“We’re all set,” Lily tells him.
Disappointment darkens his eyes. Actually, I think it’s annoyance. Weird . “I’ll get the next ones then.”
I think I’m getting whiplash with his rapid-cycle moods.
Blaze and his band signed with Maxwell’s label about ten years ago before it became Sin Records. I think he was like eighteen or nineteen at the time. Because of that, I’ve been around him a few times over the years, but I don’t remember him being so mercurial. Then again, we never had an honest conversation either. Now that I think about it, I remember a certain overprotective older stepbrother always stepping in before we said more than hello.
“Do any of you want to dance?” He looks directly at me, and my natural response is to say no, but before I can, another face appears.
“Did I hear dance?” Thad appears with a mug of beer in his hand, flashing his megawatt grin.
“You’re late,” Lily scolds.
“Fashionably so.” He winks at his friend, then tosses Ashleigh and me a flirty smile.
“I thought it was girls’ night,” I pout. I like Thad. He’s funny and entertaining to be around, but I’m a little put out. Why did I get dragged here—or blackmailed—if it wasn’t really going to be girls’ night?
“I tucked everything away,” he teases. “Tonight, I have a vagina. Unless you girls see a hottie coming my way, then I need you to scram.”
“Who talks like that?” Lily’s nose scrunches and her lips curl with disgust.
“I do, obviously.”
“I’m down for dancing.” Ashleigh slides from the booth and then looks at the two men with a pointed glare. “But keep your hands to yourself unless you want bloody stubs.”
“Same on all accounts.” Lily slides out next, leaving me the last one sitting.
The four pairs of eyes stare at me, waiting expectantly. I want to crawl under the table. I hate the feeling of being pressured. Yes, I love to dance, but not this kind of dancing. A long arm wrapped in expensive fabric—because Thad is a worse label whore than Lily—extends, fingers wiggling in my direction. “Come on, tiny dancer. Won’t be fun without you.”
I scoff, toss back two shots, grab my Cosmo, then take his hand as he guides me out. When I stand, I hit above his chin. “I’m anything but tiny.”
“Just because you’re tall doesn’t mean you aren’t still tiny. I’m worried the wind will carry you away.”
“Whatever.” I roll my eyes. “Let’s go.”
My steps falter when I spot Graham and Elise again, making Thad bump into me. “Something wrong?”
I sigh and shake my head. “Nope. Not a thing.”
We push our way through the crowd to the middle of the dancefloor, hips swaying the entire way. My drink threatens to slosh over the edge of my glass as my arms wave loosely in the air to the beat. I enjoy dancing with Thad. He’s remarkably light on his feet, but Lily said his mom owns a dance studio in California and forced him to learn when he was a kid.
After a few dances, there’s a tap on my shoulder. “Mind if I cut in?” Blaze’s eyes rake me up and down, waiting for an answer. It’s a strange request because none of us are dancing together . I glance at Thad, not understanding the wariness in his eyes. Does he know why everyone seems to dislike him? He leans in as if to kiss my cheek but instead whispers, “Don’t trust him.”
Okay. Weird. But I’m feeling good for the first time since I got here. The alcohol is buzzing nicely through my veins, making me feel relaxed—warm and tingly. So I shrug and nod, accepting Blaze’s offer. I continue to lose myself in the music. My eyes shut, and my hips create small figure eights. I lift my arms, allowing them to drape over my head as I move.
Two hands grip my hips, moving in sync with the rolls of my body as his husky voice growls in my ear. “Damn, babe, you can move.”
My nose crinkles at the babe thing. I hate being called babe. It’s just so… ick. But it’s quickly forgotten in the haze of alcohol and music. “I hope so,” I hum, “or a lifetime of lessons would have been wasted.” We continue to move together as the songs roll into each other, and the alcohol really takes effect. My lashes flutter as he grinds against me. “You’ve got a few good moves yourself,” I tell him over my shoulder.
“Hmm. You have no idea.” If I weren’t already sweaty from dancing, my body would be one massive blushing blotch from the suggestive tone.
When my eyes open, I spot a pair of near-onyx ones glaring at me, swirling with heated emotions I can’t quite decipher. For a moment, my steps falter. Then I remember I’m not supposed to care about him or his opinions. He can get pissed all he wants. I’ll just pretend it’s jealousy I see in those scalding depths. Imagine the searing rage is because he cannot stand the thought of another man’s hands on my body.
The liquid courage flowing through my veins emboldens me as I continue to indulge in my fantasy, not caring that it’s the last thing I should be doing. My right arm swings up, wrapping around Blaze’s neck, my left drops, caressing his outer thigh. I know I’m not sexy. Even with all the vodka and tequila, I don’t feel it. But I am feeling brave. So, with my back to his front, I slowly lower myself, dragging one down his chest while the other trail over his thigh, then repeat on the return up. Blaze’s fingertips dig into my flesh as I grind my ass into him. Staring directly into Graham’s eyes, picturing him as hard as Blaze is behind me, I bite my lip, leaning my head against Blaze’s shoulder.
My lips pull into a satisfied smile when I see Graham’s jaw clench. If I truly believed he was jealous—that it wasn’t just his protective big-brother nature causing the anger to ripple from him—I would understand why Lily used this tactic on my dad a time or two.
“Well, aren’t you full of surprises?” Blaze mumbles against my ear, making me shiver.
I hum, feeling good. So, so good.
I’m still faintly aware the feeling is manufactured, but I never allow myself to let loose. I never drink over two drinks, always afraid of making a fool out of myself. If I’d known it would feel like this, I would’ve indulged more often. It seems Graham’s appearance did me a favor.
“I’m going to take a piss and get another drink,” Blaze tells me. “Do you want something?”
“Anything pink.” I grin, and it’s not even forced. This is amazing.
Blaze licks his lips, his eyes roving over me, and I like how it makes me feel. Desired and wanted. Sexy. “I think pink is the perfect color for you.”
I return to our table after dancing a few more minutes alone, a little less steady than when I left. My friends all sit there, waiting with wide, matching grins.
Jagger is there, too. I didn’t know he was here. He isn’t smiling. It’s the opposite of smiling, but I can’t remember what it’s called. I poke the corners of his upside-down mouth, pushing it up. “Don’t kill my buzz.”
His brows dip, and he pulls away. “Don’t give me a reason to.” He stands, allowing me to slide in next to my friends. I stick my tongue out at him once I’m snuggled next to Lily.
“ Parsons,” her nails dig into my arms as her eyes swirl with teasing mischief, “what was that?”
I shrug and accept another shot from Ash. This one doesn’t even burn going down. It doesn’t taste like much, either. I must be getting better at this drinking thing.
Lily and Jagger begin arguing, but I tune them out, instead swaying my body to the beat. Thinking about Graham’s eyes on me, full of possessiveness, jealousy, and lust. My body heats, and I squirm in my seat as my core pulses with desire.
In the back of my mind, the niggling reminder tries to seep past the hazy delusion I’ve created, but I grab another shot, tossing the lady-boner killer back with it. Besides, my body has already decided my brain can get lost.
My lashes sweep my cheeks as my body sways, remembering the last… half-hour. But in Blaze’s place is Graham. His hands on my body. That deep, growly voice brushing my skin. Hot whiskey breath fanning my skin. His thick, hard…
My eyes fly open with an epiphany. I slap Jagger’s arm, making him lift a questioning brow but not deterring him from the drink at his lips. “I need you to teach me sex,” I blurt with enthusiasm.
His drink spews from his mouth, barely missing Ashleigh. “What the fuck?” He wheezes and coughs, trying to clear his lungs.
“I want to be good at it, and you sleep with lots of girls.” I nod matter-of-factly, satisfied with my answer. I mean, who else could I ask?
“No. Just…” he drags his hand down his face and shudders. “Holy fuck, I just saw my life flash before my eyes,” he mutters, then looks at me. When he sees my crestfallen expression, he groans. “Cut that out. It’s not because you’re not attractive. You’re gorgeous, Case, but you’re my sister.”
“Not a for real sister,” I pout.
“Fucking real enough, so no, I will not teach you sex. We will not discuss sex. I don’t even want to think about you having sex.”
“I volunteer as tribute.” Thad slips into the booth with a grin. “I can teach you all sorts of things.”
My eyes get wide as I get eager at the thought, but before I can say anything, Lily and Jagger both yell. “No!”
Ugh. It’s not even up to them. It’s my decision.
I open my mouth, ready to argue, as I reach across the table for another shot—good thing Lily ordered a ton—but I don’t get to say a word. I don’t get my shot either. Because six-feet-four inches of dark fury stands over the table, gritting his teeth. “I think you’ve had enough, Sunflower.”