Stepbrother Untouchable(9)

“Um, yeah, that would be great,” I call over my shoulder.

“OK, I'll whip something up. You stay here and get settled. I'll be in the kitchen when you're ready to eat.”

I wander back into the bedroom as my mom disappears down the stairs. There is one question I have that I can’t bring myself to ask her. It's just…I know my mom worries about money, about me graduating from school with so much debt. It's not that I think she would have married Pierce just for the money, but I worry that it might have clouded her judgment a bit. They got married so quickly—can she really know him that well?

Maybe I'm just falling back into my usual pattern of co-dependency and mothering her. She's a grown woman, I can’t control what she does and I’m not responsible for her decisions…not to mention, I am hugely relieved to not have to carry around student loans for the rest of my life.

I kick my sandals off and sink back down onto the window seat. The Potomac is a dark green sliver barely visible through the bushy trees that line the back of the estate and continue down to the shoreline. I startle as a figure breaks the stillness. I recognize Nate's head as he walks up from the lower lawn to the pool, a lacrosse stick tucked over his shoulder. Sheesh—is he training already? School just ended!

I bite my lip as I watch him toss the stick on the deck and peel off his shirt. He uses it to wipe the sweat off his face, then tosses it on a chair and kicks off his sneakers. His body is just…impossible. I mean, I guess it makes sense. Two varsity sports are probably enough to give anyone a body like a Greek god, but he also has the face to match.

He jumps in the pool and I watch him swim a lap, the cool blue water cascading over his muscular back and shoulders. I need to get used to seeing him like this—and stop acting like a total freak every time we’re in the same room. This is my new normal.

“Your food's ready!” my mom calls upstairs, her voice echoing a bit in the multi-level foyer. I jump up and head downstairs. I turn into a formal dining room before finding my way to the kitchen. I stop as I realize the kitchen windows look directly out onto the pool. Great. “I can't believe Nate's already in the pool. The water's still freezing,” my mom comments.

“Yeah, he’s crazy…” I reply, before I really hear what she said. I'm too distracted by Nate’s backstroke, his arms cutting cleanly through the water.

“So you two never once ran into each other on campus in the three years you’ve been at UVA?” she asks, sliding a BLT onto the glass table in the breakfast nook. We sit down across from each other and I start eating.

“No, well…we hadn't ever met.”

“But?” my mom digs, hearing a slight hesitation in my voice.

“Well, Nate's really well known around campus. He starts on the lacrosse and crew teams, he's smart, good—” I catch myself and pretend to clear my throat.

“Good-looking?” My mom asks with a smile.

“Mom…” I groan.

“Well, he is. I'm not blind. Actually, Pierce looked just like him when he was his age.” I see Nate get out of the pool over my mom's shoulder and shake himself off. I force myself to look down at my sandwich as he walks across to a lawn chair and lies down.

“What happened to Nate's mom?”

My mom winces. “Pierce doesn't really like to talk about it—too painful. Apparently, she cheated on him and then abandoned him and Nate. They never see her.”

“Oh, that's awful,” I murmur, trying to shove down the twinge of pity I feel for my new stepbrother.

“I think it's one of the things that brought us together—raising a child by ourselves.”

My eyes flick to the door as Nate slides it open. He's put his shirt back on but it clings to his still damp torso, emphasizing his muscular pecs and shoulders. He drops his sneakers on the mat as he shuts the door behind him.

“Hey Nate,” my mom greets him. “Would you like a sandwich?”

“You don't have to do that,” he says, a little gruffly.

“I don't mind at all,” she replies, standing to move back to the counter. He pauses, then sits in her abandoned chair a bit reluctantly. “It's so funny that you and Brynn never met at school!”

“I think there might have been one time—” he says, glancing at me, that same devilish look back in his eyes. I feel his knee come to rest against mine under the table, and I quickly cross my legs.

“In class. We have been in a few of the same classes together,” I clarify, narrowing my eyes at him.

“We have?” he asks looking genuinely surprised. My mom quietly spreads mayo on a slice of bread at the marble island.