Her Wicked Stepbrother: A Nolan Bastards Novella Page 10

  She dug around in the junk drawer and eventually located a lighter. After a few quick strikes to test the flame, she returned to the pan of brownies. But when she bent over the pan, a noise at the back door straightened her spine.

  Twisting around, she shoved the lighter into the front pocket of her sweatshirt as Aiden stepped through the archway.

  Wild butterfly wings banged to life inside her stomach. “Hey.”

  His gooey warm gaze dragged down her body with all the delicious promise of the pan of brownies behind her. “Hey.”

  In the strained silence, the sound of her ragged breathing echoed in her ears. Little erratic whorls that mimicked her heart’s chaotic beating. Frantically, she searched her mind for some meaningless words to deflect from her overpowering reaction to him.

  But all she could think to do was ask him how his night had gone, except she didn’t want to know what he’d been doing or with whom he’d been doing it, so she stayed quiet. Just in case.

  She waited for him to sulk off to his bedroom upstairs.

  “What’s that?” He pointed at the island behind her.

  “Uh… nothing.” She slanted her body to hide the pan.

  “It smells like cake.”

  “Brownies.”

  He moved toward her. “Did you make them?”

  She slid between him and the island. “They’re hot.”

  He pulled to a stop.

  “Too hot to eat.” She wrenched around. Using her body to block his view of the pan, she plucked candles from the frosting.

  Snatching the last wax stick, she clenched her fists and shoved her hands deep into her sweatshirt’s pocket.

  With a smile, she faced him. “Would you like one once they’re cool?”

  He made a quiet study of her. Then the soles of his shoes scuffed against the hardwood floor, and he closed the small space between them. She sucked in a soft breath as the sweet spiciness of his scent teased her nostrils. He reached out.

  His large, warm hands stole into either side of her sweatshirt’s front pocket. When he pried open her clamped fists, his fingers brushed the sensitive skin of her palms.

  He swiped the candles from her grasp and withdrew his hands from her shirt. Head bent, he considered the candles, still dappled with chocolate frosting. Then his gaze swept over to the brownies and their mottled surface.

  Dark eyes found hers. “Is it your birthday?”

  Her mouth opened and closed while she fumbled for the lie that’d explain away the truth.

  Stumped, she shrugged. “Yeah.”

  “Where’s your dad?”

  “At the hospital.”

  He glanced down at the candles, then back up. “He’s probably got something great planned for when he gets home.”

  She jumped on the falsehood. “Yeah, of course he does. He’s my dad.” A sound like a scoff vibrated in the back of her throat. “He wouldn’t forget my birthday.”

  An odd expression touched his features. Then he gently pushed her aside and slid a candle into the soft brownies.

  “Oh, you don’t have to—”

  He silenced her with a look. When he’d finished positioning each of the candles, he glanced back at her and held out his hand.

  She hesitated.

  He dropped his chin and his brows knitted together in a stern frown.

  She sighed and coughed up the lighter.

  Candles aglow, he turned to her.

  “I’m not much of a singer.” In the dim lighting, the gold in his eyes shimmered like liquid fire. “Make a wish.”

  Her heart ached from the flood of emotion that rushed in to fill the battered shell. It took her several puffs of air to extinguish the little dancing flames.

  “Happy birthday,” he said softly. “I’m sorry no one else is here.”

  She waved her hand, scattering a puff of smoke that had nothing to do with the tears brimming in her eyes. In truth, it no longer bothered her everyone forgot her birthday. In the few minutes since Aiden had appeared, it’d become her most favorite birthday ever.

  “I got to eat a whole pizza by myself,” she said with a laugh.

  He laid his hand over his heart. “You had pizza without me?”

  “There might be a piece or two left in the fridge.”

  While he disappeared behind the refrigerator door, she pulled candles from the brownies. “You received a letter in the mail today.”

  The refrigerator door shut with a soft thump.

  “You been reading my mail?” Beneath the humorous tease in his tone lay a ridge of unease.

  She padded into the living room and filched the letter from the coffee table. When she returned, she held the envelope out to him.

  He regarded it with suspicion, as though she attempted to pass off a nuclear warhead.

  “You applied, didn’t you?”

  “I doubt they’ve accepted me.”

  She waggled the piece of mail. “Why don’t you open it and find out?”

  He took the letter but dropped it on the counter while he filched a slice of pizza from the box. Half the slice had disappeared inside his mouth before he set it down. He lifted a napkin from the holder and wiped his hands.

  Finally, he reached for the envelope.

  The tear of paper ripped through the quiet in the house. He extracted the letter and spread out the single tri-folded sheet. The shadow of his long lashes swept down, and he read.

  He read maybe four words, then refolded the letter and replaced it inside the envelope. Tossing them onto the counter, he picked up his pizza and tore off another bite with his teeth.

  While he chewed, she pondered the changes in his expression and the little lines that formed around his eyes mouth.

  “Congratulations,” she said.

  He used the pad of his thumb to wipe his bottom lip. “I haven’t decided if I’m going.”

  “Why wouldn’t you?”

  A weighty shadow flickered across his face. “I’m not sure I want to go back.”

  She hated that shadow. “It’s your home.”

  “They called me a bastard.” Though he forced air beneath the words, he couldn’t lift their gravity.

  “Well, you can be kind of a jerk sometimes.”

  One corner of his mouth quirked, but in his eyes, the darkness still lurked.

  “Was it because your parents weren’t married? Because if that’s the case, then, like, half the kids at school are bastards.” A thought struck. “Wait, am I a bastard, too?”

  Gold flecks danced in his eyes. “Ye sound rather pleased by the prospect.”

  She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth to hide her smile, then gave up the fight. “I don’t know. It’s sort of badass.”

  His bark of laughter kicked inside her chest. Warmth prickled across her skin, the same warmth that always prickled across her skin whenever he was nearby, except this time it seeped inside her. Into her bones.

  The pleasant sound faded all too quickly.

  “You miss it, don’t you?” she said.

  She’d been so overwhelmed by the sudden, sweeping changes in her life, she’d never given much thought to what it must’ve been like for Aiden and his brothers, moving to the other side of the world and starting a new school, on top of all the rest of it.

  “I do.”

  “Even though…?” She swallowed the ugly words.

  “Most of ’em looked down on us?” He hitched one shoulder. “Like you said, it’s my home. Always will be, I suppose.”

  With the tip of her finger, she traced the thin dark veining on the quartz countertop. “No one looks down on you here.”

  After a beat, he spoke softly. “I’m glad for it.”

  She snuck a glance at him from beneath her lashes. Their gazes collided.

  Her heart jumped, and a swirl of soft heat sloped through her, filling all the empty places inside her.

  “Do you want to know what I wished for?” The question burst from her.

  Alarm stole acros
s his features, but he quickly concealed it. “If you tell me, it won’t come true.”

  “I didn’t know you were superstitious.”

  “There’s a lot you don’t know about me.”

  With a pang, she realized he was right. Whether he left next month after they graduated or waited until the fall, the window on their time together would soon close. Possibly forever.

  She slanted forward and propped her elbows on the countertop. “Quick, tell me something I don’t know.”

  He leaned back, perching his hips against the counter behind him. “I hate strawberries.”

  “Strawberries?”

  “They make me itchy.” He raked his fingernails along the side of his neck.

  “What else?” she asked, fascinated.

  “I think marshmallows are disgusting.”

  She gasped. “Omigod, you’re a monster.”

  His smile was fleeting. “I hate—” Abruptly, he stopped, and his head dropped when his gaze fell to the floor.

  “What?” she whispered. “What do you hate?”

  When he looked up, defiance warred with pain on his face. “My dad. I don’t even know him, and I fucking hate him.”

  Then and there, she decided she hated her stepbrothers’ biological father, too. She hated anyone or anything that caused that look of anguish in Aiden’s dark eyes.

  Straightening, she retrieved a knife from the drawer at her hip.

  “Is there anything you do like?” She sliced into the brownies.

  “Cake,” he said as she scooped a large wedge onto a plate and slid the still-warm treat across to him.

  A thrill chased through her at the light brush of his fingers against her skin when he accepted the fork that she held out to him.

  “You.”

  Her soft gasp slipped out.

  “I like you,” he said, each word containing an unbearable tenderness.

  Sudden tears closed the back of her throat.

  “That makes you sad?”

  She gave her head a small shake. “I’m not sad.”

  “Then why are you crying?”

  With a small shrug, she blinked back tears. “Like half an hour ago, I was certain I’d go the rest of my life without anyone every saying that to me.”

  “Well, then, for the rest of your life, never forget it. I will always like you.”

  The smile in her heart displayed on her face. “I will always like you, too.”

  Rather than eat, he studied her face, as though he were cataloguing every detail, even the tiny, insignificant ones.

  Her chest constricted. Why did he have to leave? Why had it taken her so long to realize just how much she wanted him to stay?

  “I don’t want you to go.” Grief stole the power from her voice.

  His dark eyes glimmered in the soft lighting. “I won’t be gone forever.”

  “When will you come back?”

  “Holidays. Summer break. Your birthday.” The smile tugged at his reluctant lips. “Next year, I’ll come back for your birthday.”

  Her heart cracked open.

  “I wished for you.” The confession flew from her. Unease settled on his shoulders, but she plunged ahead. “Th-that we could… k-kiss. Just once. Before you leave.”

  A storm cloud whipped across his features, but he clenched his jaw tight, clamping down on the turmoil. “Your dad would not approve.”

  Panic gripped Brynn. Her feelings for Aiden had changed so suddenly, so completely, she hadn’t yet considered what her dad would think about a relationship between them. What would he say if he knew about the chaotic jumble of emotions she was all of sudden feeling for her older stepbrother? What would he say if he knew she’d just asked Aiden to kiss her?

  Okay, he wouldn’t like it. Though she suspected he wouldn’t like her kissing any boys. But one of her stepbrothers?

  Would he be mad? Disappointed?

  In truth, she didn’t know. She’d worked so hard to please him that she no longer knew what she could do to upset him.

  But Aiden was probably right. Her dad wouldn’t approve.

  How far would his disapproval go? Would he yell at her? Ground her? Wish to stop being her dad?

  The memory blindsided her. It’d happened not long after her mom had left them, and Brynn had broken down in tears again trying to understand.

  “But w-where is she?” Watery hiccups had racked her body. “Why won’t she come home?”

  “I don’t know, honey,” her dad had said. “I guess, she didn’t want to be a mom anymore.”

  The old pain slashed a fresh wound. She pushed away the memories.

  Aiden watched her, and she could see that he knew she knew he was right. The expression on his beautiful face mirrored the anguish in her heart.

  She didn’t want him to be right. She didn’t want her dad to be angry or disappointed with her, but neither did she want circumstances to keep her and Aiden apart. Not if they wanted to be together. It wasn’t fair.

  Aiden’s words from the other night echoed through her mind. Like him, Brynn had never asked for anything. All the hurt and sorrow and ridicule she’d faced for having lost her mom the way she did, she’d accepted it all without complaint.

  Just this once, she wanted something for herself.

  More than anything, she wanted Aiden.

  She lifted her gaze to his. “My dad isn’t here.”

  “He’s earned my respect,” he said, a hint of desperation creeping into his tone. “I do not want to betray his trust.”

  She flinched. “You’re not betraying him. We aren’t—we wouldn’t be doing anything wrong.”

  “I don’t believe he’d see it that way.” At the base of his throat, just above the collar of his T-shirt, his pulse throbbed. “He’s protective of you.”

  “He wants me to be happy,” she argued.

  “So do I.”

  His clipped reply struck at her heart, but she steeled herself against the pang. “Being with you would make me happy.”

  The words hung in the air between them. Though he’d managed to banish the tempest from his expression, the storm raged in his eyes.

  “No one has to know,” she whispered. “It could be our secret.”

  He exhaled a sharp breath, as though she’d wounded him somehow. “I cannot.”

  The rejection punctured a hole in the center of her chest, and she ducked her chin to hide her face.

  “But…”

  Her head came up.

  “I cannot… not.” Emotion shredded his voice. “I’ve tried everything. I’ve fought it—fought you—but nothing ever changes. Nothing makes me want you less.”

  A dizzying thrill swooped through her, and she gripped the edge of the countertop behind her.

  With painful slowness, he moved toward her, as if some force pulled him to her against his will. “The more I resist, the more I want you. No matter what I do, it’s only you. Always, you.”

  Only a whisper of space separated them, but he didn’t move to close it.

  Uncertain, she searched his expression. “A-are you sure? If you’re embarrassed or ashamed—”

  In a flash of movement, his warm hands cupped her face. “You think I’m ashamed? Of you?” A nasty curse ripped from him. “I’ve never wanted anything the way I want you.”

  She devoured him with her eyes, savoring every morsel of his beauty—his square angle of his jaw, the straight line of his nose, the smooth ridge of his high cheekbones. The swirl of warm gold and delicious brown in his eyes.

  “Promise me.” The soft rush of his breath teased across her cheek. “No one can find out, not because I’m ashamed of us, but because I couldn’t bear it if they separated us.”

  Inside her, a torrent of emotions let loose. Hope tangled with fear. Hunger with worry. The memory of his taste on her lips exploded in her mind. Pleasure battled with shame.

  Desire conquered them all.

  “I promise, Aiden.” She touched the tips of her fingers to his full bot
tom lip. “No one will find out.”

  Chapter 11

  Then he kissed her.

  His mouth brushed hers, and the light contact set off a storm inside her. Butterflies lurched and plunged in her stomach while he took soft tastes of her lips and little nibbles at the corners of her mouth.

  When his tongue peeked out for a tiny lick, the floor beneath her feet fractured and crumbled, and she tumbled down, down into the deep, mysterious cavern that was Aiden.

  Her world narrowed to contain only him. His warm strength, his incredible scent, the soft brush of his fingers on the side of her face. She clutched fistfuls of his T-shirt, wanting to crawl inside his heart and never leave.

  He laced his fingers through her and gently coaxed her toward the stairs. She floated along beside him, her heart soaring and her lips still tingling from his kiss.

  At her bedroom, she slipped into the room ahead of him and switched on the lamp on her dresser. He closed the door behind him, but when he clicked the lock into place, a punch of nervous dread struck her.

  His head tipped to one side. “What is it?”

  Her mouth had gone suddenly dry. Until five seconds ago, she’d only ever kissed one other boy, and that had turned into an unqualified disaster. But she’d never done anything more than kiss. She’d never done it. What if she was bad at it? What if she disappointed him? What if he disappointed her?

  The pulse at the base of his throat throbbed.

  Was he nervous, too?

  “Please do not be afraid,” he said softly. “I only wanted to kiss you where we do not have to worry about being caught.” Then, because apparently her frantic thoughts appeared in a bubble above her head, he added, “I want you to know, I will never do anything you do not want me to do. If you’re afraid, or you want stop, all ye have to do is say so.”

  Her heart squeezed. All her doubts and worries dissolved into the floorboards.

  “I don’t want to only kiss.” With hesitant steps, she closed the distance between them. “I want you to be my first.”

  His breathing fell into an uneven rhythm, but he didn’t reach for her.

  Uncertainty nipped at her. “Unless that freaks you out?”

  He gave a soft, nearly imperceptible shake of his head. “It doesn’t freak me out.” With both hands, he cradled her face. “I want to be your first.” He stroked her cheeks with the pads of his thumbs. “I want to be the only one to touch you. The first one—the only one—to learn how to please you.”