Chapter Eleven
Clara
The doorbell ringing jolts me out of my post-orgasm haze. Eric peers up at me from his knees in the shower and frowns.
“I’ll get it,” he rumbles. “Relax in here, sass.”
He hurries out of the shower, dries off, and quickly dresses to answer the door. I’m too curious to stay put so I do the same. By the time I make it downstairs, there’s a uniformed cop standing in my living room.
“Cole?” I say, alarm chasing away my intoxication. “What’s wrong? Is Savvy okay? Travis?”
He cuts his eyes over to Eric and then back at me. “Actually, I was coming to check on you. One of the neighbors called in. Said there was a sexual assault happening by the dumpsters.”
Heat floods my cheeks. I know they’re crimson and giving me away, but I play it off like it’s from the shower. Shaking my head, I flash Cole a confused look. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Was it the beer bros?” Eric demands. “They’re always drunk. I’m sure they saw it wrong.”
Cole ignores him, stepping closer to me. “It was Troy. He said you were yelling. Specifically said it was you, but unsure who the man was. Said there was an altercation and then it looked like you were getting raped.”
I blink several times, scoffing. “What? No.”
Troy is a bastard. Ever since I denied him when he asked me out, he’s been a prick to me. Suddenly, he’s worried about my wellbeing. Unreal.
“Can we speak alone?” Cole asks, voice low.
“No,” Eric bites out. “You may not.”
Cole’s jaw muscle ticks. Again, he ignores him, imploring me with a stern gaze. “Is everything okay here?”
I realize this is getting out of hand and fast. If I don’t fix it, there’ll be trouble for the both of us.
“I swear to you,” I say to Cole, “everything is fine. We were playing a game. Drank too much. Things got silly.”
Cole relaxes a bit. “Keep bedroom activities to the bedroom and you won’t have any problems.”
My skin burns hot. He knows Eric is my stepbrother and obviously knows we’ve been having sex. It’s humiliating, but I’d much rather him know that information than thinking I’ve been taken advantage of.
“Will do,” I croak out. “I’m sorry.”
“Take care.”
He leaves and I breathe a sigh of relief. Eric scoops me up as though I weigh nothing, carrying me up the stairs to my bedroom. Once we’re under the covers and cuddled together, he runs his fingers through my hair and sighs.
“We should sleep this shit off,” he says softly. “I’m clearly an idiot when drunk.”
I squeeze him and kiss his neck. “Good idea.”
Frosty hops up onto the bed and plants himself on Eric’s stomach. Clearly, he agrees.
I wake up naked and sore. Some time in the middle of the night, we scared off the dog, because we couldn’t keep our hands off one another. Eric fucked me and slept most of the night warming his cock inside me. I’m sore everywhere, but it’s a good kind of sore that makes me smile.
Until I hear voices.
Eric isn’t in bed, but that’s not unusual. He likes getting up early and making breakfast for me. But, he doesn’t usually entertain guests. I quickly throw on clothes, slip into the bathroom to pee and freshen up, and then head downstairs to see what the commotion is.
Oh my God.
Why is our family here?
My little sisters are playing with Frosty and showing him all the presents with their names on them.
I blow them a kiss in greeting before heading into the kitchen where the voices are coming from.
The space feels small with all three of them standing in there.
Mom is at the stove with Eric, helping him with breakfast. Mike is trying to figure out the coffeemaker.
“Morning, sleepyhead,” he says, abandoning the machine to give me a side hug. “Can you make this work? I need more caffeine.”
He kisses the top of my head and releases me so I can get some coffee going for us. I’m tense and confused as to why they’re here. It’s not like them to drop by unannounced.
Mom and Eric are in their own little world, chatting quietly about ingredients. It’s always been their thing. Mom loves cooking and shared that love with all of her kids. Eric was always the most studious when learning her tips and tricks.
Guilt floods through me. We’ve been carrying on this secret sexual relationship, ignoring this right here. Our family. And now they’re here, in our space. It’s a cold, sobering reminder that what we’re doing is wrong. Unnatural. Weird.
Probably unlawful too.
“What can I help with?” I ask, keeping my voice light.
I quickly sweep my eyes over the space, thankful that our mess from last night is gone. I’m hoping Eric was able to clean it up before our parents showed up.
“I’m about to take out the biscuits, honey,” Mom says over her shoulder. “Could you butter them for me?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
The coffee finishes brewing and I set to pouring cups for the four of us. Mike grabs creamer from the fridge while Mom takes out the biscuits. Eric is quiet, steadily babysitting the bacon, and occasionally stirring the sausage gravy while Mom brings the biscuits to me.
This is so awkward.
What would they do if they knew what we’ve been up to?
I imagine Mike blowing up, fighting with Eric, and Mom sobbing with heartache. Our sisters would be confused and probably crying too.
Since thinking about our relationship getting out gives me hives, I focus on buttering the biscuits. Once finished, I nudge Mike and motion for him to follow me to the dining room. We drag our chairs to the sliding glass door so we can watch the snow fall outside.
“You okay, kiddo?” he asks, giving my shoulder a fatherly squeeze. “You’re tense.”
Not much. Just sleeping with your son. Aren’t you proud?
I swallow down a gulp of coffee too quickly, hissing at the burn. “All good. Antsy to go back to work.”
“I hear that,” Mike says with a chuckle. “The roads are clearer today. I bet they’ll reopen tomorrow.” Then, he turns to look at Eric. “Speaking of work, what are your plans, Eric? You can’t freeload off our girl forever.”
I cut my gaze over to my stepbrother, noting the tension in his shoulders. If we were alone, I’d massage them until he relaxed.
“Still figuring it out, Dad,” Eric says with a grunt.
Mom gives him an affectionate pat on his back. “Don’t let your father rush you, honey.”
“We could use him in the back office,” Mike says, undeterred by his wife. “Carolyn is going to have her baby at any moment. We’ll need someone to handle payroll. Eric’s more than capable for that job. When she comes back, we can move him into sales or something.”
We’re thankfully interrupted when the girls come bouncing into the dining room, squealing with excitement. “Look at Frosty,” Layla says, “thrusting our dog in the air above her head. He’s a present.”
Mike snorts with laughter. “Get those Christmas bows off that dog’s head. Poor thing.”
Frosty yips as if in agreement. I wave them to bring him over to me. Layla scowls as I pluck all the bows off my dog and then give him a kiss on his wet nose.
Ruthie takes him from Layla and whispers loudly, “We can put more on.”
They scurry off to cause more mischief. Poor Frosty. He’s a good sport, though. At least they’re entertained and not bugging us adults.
“We didn’t come over to scold Eric about his career,” Mom says, shooting Mike a pointed look. “We came to ask a favor.”
“Food’s ready,” Eric says with a grunt.
After a hectic few minutes where everyone loads up on food, we eventually settle at the dining room table. The girls happily eat at the coffee table while watching The Grinch on TV. Mike devours half his plate of biscuits and gravy before Mom speaks up.
“This year we’re hosting a neighborhood Christmas party,” Mom says, shooting Eric a nervous look. “I got in over my head.”
“Why?” I ask with a snort. “The party, I mean. Since when do you play hostess to the whole neighborhood?”
“She’s gunning for HOA president,” Mike says with a teasing grin. “We all know the party isn’t necessary. She’s going to win.”
Mom rolls her eyes at him. “It’s important to me. I just didn’t expect so many people to RSVP.”
“You promised them amazing homemade treats,” Mike reminds her. “Totally shot down my catering idea.”
To be fair, a caterer could never cook as well as my mother.
“I need your help, Eric,” Mom finally blurts out. “We work well together in the kitchen. I know we could make this the best party ever. Please say you’ll do it.”
Eric relaxes and his lips curl into a grin. “Of course, Ma.”
My stomach twists uneasily. He almost always calls her Yolanda, but every now and again he’ll teasingly call her Ma. Normally, it’s endearing. After all the sex we’ve had, it shines a bright light on the wrongness of what we’ve been doing lately.
As they discuss the event, I finish up my plate and then excuse myself to the bathroom. Rather than go there, I dip into my bedroom and close the door behind me. Once I have my phone in hand, I crawl into bed and dial my best friend.
“Hello?”
“Hey, Casey.”
Her baby whimpers and then she whispers until it’s quiet again. Then she says, “How have you been? Haven’t heard much out of you lately.”
My heart sinks. Is it that obvious? “Can I confess something to you and not get judged for it?”
“Always. What’s going on?”
I chew on my fingernail for a moment, working up the nerve to answer her. Finally, I blurt it out in one quick, whispered breath. “I’ve been sleeping with my stepbrother.”
She gasps. “Oh my God.”
“I know,” I say with a whine. “It just happened and now we can’t stop.”
“Hold on a sec.” She shuffles and then says to Brayden, “I need to talk to Clara. Here.”
Once she passes their baby to him, she goes somewhere quieter and demands I tell her everything. Since I’ve been needing to get this off my chest, I unload every sordid detail onto my best friend. To her credit, she listens quietly, only offering the occasional “ooh” or “ahh.”
“So the dumpster rumor is true?” she asks, chuckling. “Brayden and Reid had a lengthy discussion about how it couldn’t be possible. You’ll be happy to know they defended your honor.”
“Ugh,” I grumble. “That makes it worse. I’m awful.”
“No, Clare-Bear, you’re not. Love isn’t awful. Not ever. You’re happy. I can hear it in your voice.”
“But he’s my stepbrother. Mom and Mike are here with our sisters. It’s super awkward. If they find out…”
We both grow quiet because as much as we’d like to pretend it won’t be an issue, it absolutely will be.
“Why of all people do I have to love the one person I’m not supposed to?” I ask, eyes flooding with tears. “And we’re being so reckless about it too. The dumpster thing was because he was trying to throw away my birth control.”
Casey chokes on her own spit and starts coughing. Once she’s settled, she says, “You’re playing a dangerous game.”
“I know,” I murmur, bitterness in my voice. “It’s not fair. He’s the perfect man for me. So loving and caring. I feel safe and treasured. No other man has treated me this way. I can’t go back to dating douchebags. Not after this.”
“Hey now,” Casey croons. “Who said anything about going back to those losers?”
“I can’t be with him, though. Not without serious fallout.”
Casey laughs softly. “You’ve been sleeping with him, in public, and without protection. I think you’re subconsciously asking for it to blow up so you don’t have to hide anymore.”
A part of me knows that’s true.
The other part really dreads seeing the look of horror on our parents’ faces.
“What do I do?” I ask, voice trembling. “I don’t want to lose him. I can’t.”
“You won’t,” she assures me, though I don’t believe her. “When you find true love, nothing will stop you from keeping it.”
Not even the destruction of your own family?
It think, for once, my best friend is wrong.
This is a disaster.