Billionaire Stepbrother: Autumn(5)

“Ah, here it is,” she says, pointing to a dark photo of Lex with a girl practically sitting on his lap, wearing a non–existent skirt, her arms draped around him and her head buried, kissing his neck.

I bite my lip and sit on my trembling hands. “When was this taken?” I ask. Do I really want to know?

“Er,” Phoebe reads the caption below the photo, “Last Saturday night at Club Empire. I’ve always wanted to go.”

Three whole days. He moved on in three whole days, I think. I stare at the photo; he’s happy, smiling directly at the camera as he gets his neck nibbled. Or is he faking it? I try to will the tears to go back, but it’s too late, and they trickle down my cheeks.

“Are you OK? Oh, god, that’s a stupid question. Of course you’re not. Look at you. Come on, let’s get out of here.”

Phoebe lifts me from my chair, quickly wiping my eyes with her thumbs. “We can’t let them you see you cry, there’s always someone with a bloody camera around here.” She guides me out of the cafeteria like I’m a fragile doll, away from prying eyes.





Chapter Five



We sit in my living room apartment, and I can tell Phoebe is dying to know more. She stares at me with anticipation as she hands me a tissue for my smudged eyeliner.

“So. What was all that about? I know, I know, we just met, but if you need to talk, you can; my lips are sealed.” She motions as if to lock her lips with her fingers.

I stare at the wooden flooring, then up at her concerned face. It’s such a bad idea trusting someone within two minutes of meeting them, I think, but if I don’t share my thoughts with at least one person, and soon, I’m going to be a wreck.

“It’s OK, I understand… There’s no pressure; if or whenever you’re ready, I’ll bend an ear. Now, what we need are beers and ice–cream!” Phoebe smiles and gets up to investigate my fridge.

I feel the muscles in my body relaxing, and I breathe a sigh of relief; I can’t let go of the secret between Lex and me, at least not yet… it’s the only thing I have left of him.

Phoebe comes back to the couch armed with a couple bottles of ice–cold beers, two spoons, and a tub of decadent, creamy naughtiness.

“But, let me say one thing,” she continues as if she hadn’t left the room, “he’s not worth your tears.” Phoebe points at Lex in the photo and gives me a knowing look. Her warm brown eyes, which had been bright and jolly only a few seconds ago, are now deadly serious.

I gasp. “How? Shit, please, you can’t say anything…” I plead. Oh god, my stomach does a flip like a fish out of water, clinging to its last moments of life.

How could I be so stupid? What if she blabs? It’ll be in the papers, and I’ll be ruined… He’ll be ruined, and then he’ll never want me back.

She smiles, and her warmth returns. “Don’t worry your silly little head, of course I won’t tell anyone. Anyways, you’d be mad not to have at least a small crush on him; he’s drop–dead gorgeous. But he’s your step–brother, right? Totally off–limits now. Such a bummer.”

I force a false laugh, “Ha, yeah, totally off–limits.” So much for being able confide in her.

“I dunno, though. He’s not related by blood. If you had the chance, would you do it?”

“Do what?” I ask trying to keep my voice light.

“Pfft, don’t act coy with me, Missy! You know all too well what I mean. I bet you’ve even fantasised about it!”

Phoebe collapses against the back cushion of the sofa in a heap of hysterics, while I sit rigid, daring not to utter another word.

All of a sudden Phoebe goes quiet then bolts up to her feet.

“No. Fucking. Way.” She tries to make me meet her gaze.

I look away and take a huge gulp from my beer. My cheeks are on fire, betraying me, as I swallow and bow my head trying to hide my guilt.

“Oh, my god. You did, didn’t you? You and your brother did the nasty? You dirty little hussy!” she squeals with delight.

“Step–brother!” I correct her and clamp a hand over my mouth. The cat is truly out of the bag now.

Her giggles overtake her once more. Phoebe flumps back down next to me. My mind races with what to say; what excuse can I give?

“Did he hurt you?” Phoebe is sombre now; the giggles fade away.

“He dumped me,” I reply as the floodgates reopen.

“The bastard.”

You don’t know the half of it, I think.

In between sobs I manage to say “He just left me. And I couldn’t tell anyone about it. Our whole thing, relationship, whatever you want to call it, was secret. No one knows. Except you, now.”