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Smash_ A Stepbrother MMA Romance(80)

By:B. B. Hamel


“Last I heard, yeah.”

“I forgot you two were close.”

“Why, what’s that mean?”

“Nothing. She’s just different than she was in high school, that’s all.”

“Different how?”

He shrugged again. “People change. You sure did.”

“Oh good, this again.”

He laughed. “Don’t get all angry, college girl. Or should I say science geek? Since you’re not in college anymore.”

“If I’m a geek, you’re a meathead.”

“That’s not a bad tradeoff. I’ll take it.”

“What about you? Got any competitions coming up?”

He had a far-off look on his face for a second and then nodded. “Yeah. Got some stuff lined up.”

“How’s it going?”

“Good. Been training hard.”

My eyes roamed down his body. I had to admit, he was looking even more muscular and fit than usual, which was saying something. He glanced at me and smirked.

“Quit staring, Becca.”

I blushed and looked out the window. “I wasn’t staring.”

“You were practically eye-fucking me.”

“I was not. Don’t be a perv.”

“It’s fine, sis. I get it. Hard to control yourself around me.”

I sighed and shook my head. Maybe the silence really was better.

Soon we turned off the road and headed up a thin dirt path, hardly enough room for two cars to squeeze by each other. Each wind and curve and bend was utterly familiar to me since I had gone up and down them hundreds of times. Up ahead, a wood and glass building materialized into view, smoke rising lazily up through its chimney.

“Got the fire on for us,” Reid commented.

I smiled big. I was coming home.





Chapter Two: Reid


I hated being the new kid in town. Even years later, I still felt like I wasn’t exactly a local. Sure, I knew the woods around Ridgewood better than anyone, and I was the golden boy of climbing, but if you weren’t born in the town then you were always a bit of an outsider.

She never made me feel that way. Rebecca was a lifer, as I liked to call them, and when I first moved to Ridgewood as a kid she was nice to me. It was hard at first trying to get into the swing of small-town living, and kids weren’t exactly welcoming.

But Rebecca was different. She probably didn’t even remember, because we weren’t exactly friends back then, but she was nice to me anyway. Any sign of kindness was important in those first months, and she was one of the few kids that actually smiled and said hello to me.

Life got better though. I hit my growth spurt, got into climbing, and made some friends. For a long time, I felt lost, like there was nothing in the world for me. People were outgoing and happy and seemed to actually enjoy life, but it wasn’t like that with me. Sometimes it was a struggle getting out of bed.

That changed when I started rock climbing. It was small stuff at first, just little faces and some indoor walls. But it exploded from there.

I could still remember the day everything changed. I was fifteen and out climbing with a friend, some guy I could barely even remember anymore. But we climbed together up the cliff face, and he was teaching me how to properly use the ropes and pulleys when I leaned back and looked out across the landscape.

We were barely above the trees, but I could see all the way to the horizon. Everything was spread out in front of me, and I couldn’t hear what my friend was saying anymore. There was only me and the sun and the sky and the wind moving through my hair. I was free and it felt right.

Everything clicked together that day. I understood what everyone else was doing. The world just made sense when I was climbing.

And quickly that extended to hiking through the thick woods surrounding Ridgewood. I loved being out alone in the deep forest between our town and Canada with nobody else for miles. I could walk all day long out there doing nothing but climbing trees and identifying plants.

High school was fine after that. I guess girls liked me, because I never had trouble finding a new girlfriend. They probably liked the rock climbing or some shit like that, thought I was rugged. But I was never interested in fame. All I wanted was to climb and to climb fast.

Throughout all that, Becca was always around. I kept seeing her in the halls and in class, and I always wondered what she was like. Even though I was getting popular, I still felt intimidated around her. Everyone knew she was the smartest person in school, hands down, and although most people just thought she was some dorky loser girl, I saw a lot more in her.

I noticed the way she twirled her hair when she was nervous. I noticed how she chewed on the ends of her glasses when she was concentrating. She liked orange juice in the morning, and sometimes brought a little plastic bottle of it to school.