Stepbrother Untouchable(48)

“Do you think there will ever be a day when we can tell them?” I ask with a yawn as I sit up. He pauses for a moment as he pulls open a dresser drawer.

“I don't know. Let's just keep it our secret for now.”

“No, no, I wasn't saying I—” I break off as we both hear a car pulling up to the front of the house. I hurry over to the pile of my clothes and ball them up in my arms before running to the door. “See you later!” I call quietly over my shoulder as I dash naked down the hallway.

As I shut my door behind me and begin pulling on my clothes, I wonder why Nate was so quick to suggest that we keep it quiet. Not that I want something different—for now, at least. But someday… I mean, does he just envision keeping our relationship secret forever? What kind of relationship would that be, anyway?

I sigh. These kind of questions are what Allison warned me about in the first place. It's just…fuck. What was once a far-off crush has become real for me. Too real. And Nate has said he has feelings for me, that I'm different, but he hasn't been any more specific than that.

On my end, I don't think this is a purely sexual infatuation. I'm really falling for him.





CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE





Going to work this week and being away from Nate during the day has felt like going through physical withdrawal. I really have to force myself to focus, because sometimes I find myself staring off into the distance, remembering what he did to me the previous night. I wish I could just go straight home at six today, but I promised Allison I'd go shopping with her. And there are actually a couple things I'd like to pick up for myself.

I meet her at the Anthropologie in Georgetown Mall, and we start going through the sale racks as we catch up. While she's not looking, I slip a couple sets of lingerie and sexy bras into my basket. I want to wear something a little sexy for Nate, but I don't want to face Allison's inevitable questions if she sees what I've picked out.

We eventually make our way to the changing rooms and begin trying on our choices. I quickly slip on the first matching set of bra and panties. I admire myself in the mirror. The lace is a pale violet, and not overtly sexy—it's Anthropologie, not Victoria's Secret, after all.

“What do you think?” Allison asks suddenly, pulling the curtain aside and stepping into the dressing room with me. She's wearing a blue cotton dress and twirls for a second before she realizes what I'm wearing. Her eyebrows raise. “Whoa.”

“Allison,” I groan, pulling one of the more substantial pieces of clothing off a hanger to cover myself.

“You know, I had a feeling something was different with you,” she says, beginning to smile.

“Really?”

“Yup. And I was right. I always thought you two would make a good match.”

“What? That's not what you said.”

“Yeah, I totally called it!”

“No, you completely warned me against the whole thing,” I reply, confused and even slightly annoyed.

“Wait,” she says with a frown, “who are you talking about?”

“Who are you talking about?”

“Greg, obviously…”

“Oh, right.”

“Brynn…”

“What?” I ask innocently.

“If it's not Greg, who did you think I was talking about?” she asks, her eyes widening.

“It's not important, OK?” I reply, blushing.

“Brynn, no. Please tell me it's not Nate. Please. I mean, he's your stepbrother. It's…it's gross.”

“Thanks a lot, Allison. Not exactly what I needed to hear right now,” I snap, turning my back to her to pull off the lingerie.

“Um, maybe it's exactly what you need to hear right now. I mean, what's with you? You're ignoring a perfectly nice guy to go out with some jock like Nate.”

“Well, first of all, it's none of your business. Second of all, you're actually completely right about Greg. He is 'perfectly nice.' There's no spark at all. Zero. Third of all, Nate's not 'some jock.' He's really smart, and kind, and funny. And with him? Sparks galore!”

“God, Brynn, I'm just trying to look out for you. You're making some really bad decisions.”

I take a deep breath, not wanting to raise my voice in this public place. “No, Allison, you're not trying to look out for me. What you're doing is judging me. Completely different. And I really don't appreciate it.” I finish pulling on my skirt and quickly slip my flats on as I grab my purse and walk quickly out of the dressing room.

I walk straight out of the store and toward the elevator to the parking garage, my cheeks burning with anger, though I also feel a bit like crying. I've never had a big fight like that with Allison before, and I don't like it.