12. Stella Always Has The Goods
STELLA ALWAYS HAS THE GOODS
Kayleigh
Ilet myself into the apartment as quietly as possible, but the deadbolt is loose, so it clacks—a sound that echoes down the empty hallway like a starter pistol.
I half expect to find a Welcome Home banner, or a mob of cops with handcuffs, or at least a lingering cloud of humiliation to greet me.
Instead, there’s only the gentle hum of the AC and the long, rectangular sunbeam that cuts across the living room rug, catching in the threads like it’s got nowhere better to be.
Our apartment used to feel crowded, almost alive with chaos: four girls, three bedrooms, one bathroom, and a rotating cast of boyfriends, family, and weirdos from the college drama program.
Now it’s just me and Stella. Mary Kate moved out recently because she’s fallen in love with her stepdad, Kent Robinson; Andie moved out even earlier to be with Stella’s dad, Thomas Moreland, leaving behind only a half-dead succulent and an unpaid cable bill.
You can still sense them in the place, though, like echoes that haven’t finished reverberating.
There’s a hair tie on the bathroom sink that doesn’t belong to me.
There’s a flip-flop in the hallway that’s a size too small.
It all feels haunted, but only by the kind of ghosts who might offer to split a pizza if you could see them.
But this is still my home. Sure, I stay with my parents sometimes, but this is where I pay rent.
I kick off my shoes, sink my toes into the rug, and immediately collapse onto the couch, not even caring about the coffee stains on the slipcover or the way the cushions flatten under me like I’ve been exiled from gravity.
I’m in a loose t-shirt and shorts, hair up in a bun that’s half war zone, half anime sidekick.
My muscles ache in the delicious, humiliating way that only happens after someone’s wrung the last ounce of resistance out of you.
That someone was my stepbrother, and I still have the bite mark on my thigh to prove it.
OMG, Trevor wasn’t supposed to bite me! He wasn’t supposed to do any of what he did, actually, but my pussy tingles at the mere memory as my thighs squeeze together.
OMG, I have to stop thinking like this. Trevor is my stepbrother and totally off limits. I can’t.
At that moment, there’s a clatter from the kitchen and then Stella appears, a giant matcha smoothie in one hand.
She’s in an XXL t-shirt and hot pants, legs impossibly long.
Her hair is in a loose braid, the color impossibly golden in the sun, and her face is clear of makeup, but her expression is already up to something.
The moment she sees me, her eyes go wide and she sets the smoothie down, hard.
“Holy shit, you’re alive!” she shouts, then launches herself over the back of the couch and lands next to me in a move that would dislocate the hips of a lesser mortal.
“Girlfriend, tell me everything. Were you just, like, sitting in jail the whole night? Or did you do the smart thing and seduce your way out like a normal person?”
I bury my face in a pillow and groan. “I can’t believe I’m back here. Can we just pretend last night didn’t happen?”
Stella doesn’t even blink. “No. Absolutely not. You have to tell me if they made you change into an orange jumpsuit, and if a new guard came, and if you got any new tattoos, and—” Her eyes narrow.
“Oh my god, did you see that bitch Tammy? Did they bring her around, finally? Is her pussy just as haunted as the rumors say?”
She’s so loud and unfiltered that I can’t help but start to laugh, but the sound comes out strangled. “First of all, you know there’s no jumpsuit. Second, it was the same guard and he was a fucking turd. Third, Stella, I am not as cool as you think I am. I didn’t seduce anybody.”
My friend makes a wounded noise. “You’re letting down the team, Kay. I got out in, like, twenty minutes. Morris was ready to unlock the cell before I even finished my dance. But you—” she points a dramatic finger at me, “—you have the raw material. You just have to own it.”
I try to wriggle lower into the couch. “You left me there,” I state. “You ditched me.” I remember Stella blowing me a kiss as she strolled out in her heels, dress clinging to her ass, her own mug shot probably already being used as a thirst trap by the Minneapolis PD.
She waves a hand, dismissing the accusation.
“I knew you’d be fine. You’re made of tougher stuff than you look.
But you’re out now! So tell me, how did it happen?
” She leans in so close I can see the flecks in her irises, her tone suddenly conspiratorial.
“Tell me you were creative. Tell me you went full femme fatale.”
I squeeze my eyes shut. “I didn’t. I tried, okay? But Morris wasn’t buying it. He just kind of watched, then told me to stop. I think he thought I was going to have a nervous breakdown.”
Stella makes a sound like a sad trombone. “Sad, girl, sad. You have to make them think that the sun rises and sets with you. But, wait, how did you get out then?”
I shoot her a deadpan.
“The normal way. I stayed overnight, and was bailed out in the morning.”
Stella looks confused.
“By whom?”
This is where it gets tricky, and I fight to speak in a normal tone. “Trevor.”
For a beat, all the air goes out of the room. But Stella’s expression is confused.
“Who’s that? Some hot guy you’ve been dating?”
“No, it’s my stepbrother, remember? He came around like a year ago to drop off some stuff. The tall one?”
Stella’s eyes widen as realization dawns.
“That guy? Oh my god, he’s so hot. You called him? What gives, girl? You didn’t know anyone else?”
I shrug.
“He’s family. I didn’t think to call anyone else.”
Stella smiles craftily.
“Well, at least your stepbrother’s insanely hot, and loaded too, right?
Because he’s some kind of AI billionaire.
That’s good, so he can afford bail. But I mean, girlfriend, that man looks like Superman, with the dark hair and blue eyes.
He even has a curlicue over one eye. And that body, too. Is he enhanced?”
I stare at her. Stella’s chatty pitter-patter sometimes goes so fast that it’s hard to keep up.
“I have no idea what enhanced means. You mean like drugs?”
“Hell yeah,” Stella says in a conspiratorial voice. “You know guys with a superhero build almost always use testosterone, HGH and peptides, right? No one’s natty anymore.”
I stare at her.
“Stella, I don’t think my stepbrother’s enhanced, although I don’t know him that way, so I wouldn’t be able to say for sure. But yes, it’s Trevor who paid the fee to bail me out.”
My pretty blonde friend nods knowingly.
“So was he pissed? I mean, I assume you called him at the crack of dawn.”
I nod, then look down at my hands, knuckles white. “Yeah, kind of. He drove me to his house, gave me coffee, and then told me to shower. But it’s more than just the jail thing that he’s mad about.”
Stella looks stumped.
“There’s more?”
I sigh.
“Well, I tried to bribe my way out of jail by offering to send Morris nudes. I had the nudes all cued up on my phone, but basically, I accidentally sent them to Trevor instead.”
Stella stares at me, blue eyes wide.
“Are you for real?”
I nod.
“Very for real. Trevor has a full set of nude photos of me in his inbox now.”
Stella breaks down into hysterical laughter, tears almost running down her cheeks.
“Oh my god, girlfriend! Show me!”
I shake my head vigorously.
“Hell no. These photos were taken for my eyes only, and I can’t believe they got out to my stepbrother. There’s no way I’m showing them to anyone.”
My friend’s still screeching with laughter.
“But how bad can it be?”
I shake my head again.
“Real bad, girlfriend. Like with toys, all that kind of stuff.”
She’s almost doubled up now.
“Did you penetrate yourself?”
I shake my head.
“Not really, but he’s got a good look at my tits, pussy, and asshole. I spread ‘em, and now my stepbrother’s seen ‘em.”
Stella’s literally curled up on the ground now, dying of laughter. It’s honestly kind of insulting that she thinks my dilemma is so funny.
“Sorry, sorry,” she apologies while puffing with giggles. “Okay, well at least he’s horny now because babe, not only are you gorgeous and naughty, but you’re also a legend.”
I want to die. “Don’t,” I say, but my voice is lost under the next wave of her cackling.
“So what next?” she asks, regaining just enough composure to speak.
I hug my knees to my chest. “I don’t know,” I fib lightly, deciding to skip over the part where Trevor kissed and licked my pussy. “But he definitely didn’t delete them.” I bury my head in my arms. “It’s so much worse than I’m making it sound.”
She claps her hands once, delighted. “It’s not worse!
It’s so much better! Kayleigh, this is how you win.
You got to bypass all the bullshit and go straight to the boss level.
I told you—guys think with their little heads.
They can’t help it. You need to use this to your advantage.
You need to turn yourself into Kim Kardashian.
I mean, that girl’s sex tape got out and she finagled it into billionaire status. ”
I shoot her a deadpan look. “Yeah, but that’s not how it works for normal people.”
Stella leans back, crossing her legs and lacing her fingers behind her head.
“Since when are we normal? Seriously. My dad’s about to marry Andie, who’s my friend and our age.
Although, as my stepmom, I get to inherit all of her shoes and skincare products, which is good.
And you—” She points a finger again, “—you get to be the star of a Lifetime movie. Hot stepbrother, forbidden lust, nude misadventures. All you need now is to fuck up his life as much as he’s about to fuck up yours. ”
I pull the blanket off the back of the couch and wrap it around myself like a force field.
“Yeah, I think that’s going to happen because he told me to come back tonight.
And he told me to dress slutty. He actually said ‘wear something that makes you feel like a whore.’” I can’t even believe the words as I say them out loud.
Stella sits up straighter. “Oh my god! The shit has hit the fan!”
I hang my head. “Tell me about it.”
Stella’s almost panting with eagerness. “So, are you going?”
I shake my head, then nod, then shake it again. “I shouldn’t. Right?”
She shrugs, the movement loose and feline. “Is it what you want?”
I think about it. Not just the answer, but the ache in my pelvis, the electric pulse that starts in my gut and radiates all the way to my scalp.
I think about the feel of his hands on me, the way his eyes went dark when he looked at my body, the taste of him that I can feel on my lips even though he was the one who kissed me. Down there.
“I don’t know,” I say, but the words are as hollow as the apartment.
Stella gives me a look that’s part therapist, part devil-on-your-shoulder.
“Kay, can I be honest? You can overthink it forever, or you can just let yourself have this. Worst case, you fuck your stepbrother and it’s terrible and then you both go back to ignoring each other.
Best case, it’s hot and you write a movie script about it and sell it to HBO. ”
I laugh, but my heart is hammering.
“I love how you think.”
Stella pats my leg, then sets her smoothie on the coffee table with a decisive thunk.
“I know, and I’m going to help you through this situation because here’s what we’re going to do.
We’re going to get you slutty. Not try-hard slutty, but real, uncut, homegrown vixen.
I have a couple of dresses in mind that would make even your stepbrother grovel. ”
I clutch the blanket tighter. “Stella, I’m not you. I can’t just put on a latex mini and go full Bratz Doll. I’m still… me.”
She stands, already moving toward her bedroom, the sound of her bare feet on the tile quick and certain.
“That’s why you have me. I’ll put together a look.
You’ll put it on. If you hate it, we can always go back to Sad Prison Chic.
But if you like it…” She grins over her shoulder, teeth wickedly white. “You’ll thank me tomorrow.”
I let out a shaky breath, and for the first time since the cell, I feel something besides shame and dread. I feel like the world might actually be exciting and fun, if I just let it.
The sound of hangers scraping on the metal rod fills the apartment as Stella rummages for the perfect whore starter kit. I sit on the couch, blanket pulled around my knees, heart thudding so loud I’m sure she can hear it.
I can hear her voice from the bedroom, sing-song and feral: “Kayleigh! Lace or latex? Mesh or see-through? Thigh-highs or commando? Ooooh, I bet he likes commando!”
I want to protest, but instead I laugh, a long, wild sound that bubbles up from somewhere I thought was dead.
This is insane. I’m insane.
But tonight, I think I might just let myself be.
And if that means walking into my stepbrother’s apartment with nothing but lip gloss and a borrowed dress, then so be it.
The ghosts in the apartment can judge me later.