Series: Peach State Stepbros Series by Riley Hart
Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 79283 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 396(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79283 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 396(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
“Dude. Remind me to never play video games with Taylor again. He’s too fucking good,” Dax tells me.
“Yeah, he always beats all our asses. What are you up to?”
“Playing video games?” Dax replies, raising a brow.
“I meant other than that.”
He shrugs. “I’m meeting up with a guy who lives near here, so I stopped by for a bit.”
I say a silent thank-you I have no right to feel. It doesn’t mean Taylor and Dax aren’t hooking up, just not right now.
“How was work?” Tay asks.
“Good. Mila stopped by.”
“Who’s Mila?” Dax asks.
“His new best friend,” Taylor replies, a strange tightness to his voice.
“Not like Tay is my best friend, of course. You’ll always be my number one.”
“Aww. Aren’t you guys cute?” Dax teases.
“I think we are.” I nudge Taylor playfully with my elbow, but he gets up. “Where are you going?”
“To get a drink.” He goes into the kitchen, while Dax is still taking his turn.
I get up and follow him. “Are you and Dax…”
He tilts his head, his forehead creasing. “What? No. That was a one-time thing.”
I nod, again oddly thankful.
“Wait…do you want to…with Dax?” Tay asks.
“What? No,” I say, which is exactly what he’d just said to me. “Besides that one night, I haven’t hooked up with anyone else since last school year.” Shit. Maybe I shouldn’t have told him that. And why is it true? I’m still trying to figure that out.
“You haven’t?”
“Nope.”
“Me neither.”
“Good,” I reply. “I mean, not good. It’s fine if you do. I don’t know why I said that.”
Luckily, before he can reply, Dax comes into the kitchen. “I’m gonna dip. Unless the two of you want to go again? If so, I’ll bail on the other guy.”
I want to say no, but I don’t want to make a decision for Taylor. If he wants to explore his bisexuality more, he has the right.
“I think we’re good. Thanks, though,” Taylor replies, and I breathe easier for some reason.
“Damn. You two are the first not to want another shot at my ass.”
“Shut up,” I tell Dax. “You know you have a great hole.”
“I do.” He winks. “Catch ya later. I’ll see myself out.”
We nod and hear him go for the door. When I look at Taylor, he’s looking at me again. “What?” I ask, heart beating faster than it should. What the fuck. Am I having a heart attack? I rub a hand over my chest while I wait for Taylor to answer.
15
Taylor
Brenner clearly expects me to say something, but I’ve been thrown ever since he got back to the apartment. He’s off. In a way I’m not used to ever seeing him.
When I bumped into Dax on campus after my last class, he said he had some free time, so I didn’t think twice about inviting him over. Didn’t even cross our minds we might do anything else—well, maybe it crossed Dax’s mind a little.
I definitely didn’t think Brenner would mind.
But it’s not just Brenner throwing me. Why was I relieved when he said he hadn’t messed around with anyone either? I mean, I’ve been waiting for him to start messing around with someone, which would rip the Band-Aid off because I know it’ll bother me. I’m not like him. I don’t hook up with people without feeling anything, Dax excepted.
And it’s been worse recently because I’ve enjoyed our cuddling and watching movies together. Enjoyed feeling closer to him than ever before, and the thought of someone sliding in between us and fucking that up makes me feel…ragey.
Brenner’s still looking at me in a way I can’t make sense of, and I have no idea what to say, so I go with the first thing that comes to mind. “We cool?”
He flinches, like that was definitely the wrong thing. “Huh?”
“You’ve been weird since you got home. Did something happen at work?”
Though why would dealing with a fussy customer or a tiff with a coworker make him come home and start talking to me about hooking up with Dax and about not hooking up with anyone else since we started messing around?
Bren rests his hand on his chest and searches around the kitchen. “I think I might need to go to bed.”
He darts out of the kitchen, but I tail behind him. “I’m not letting you out of this that easy.”
“I just need to lie down. I’m not feeling good.”
“I can tell something’s up, Bren.”
“Well, I’m about to be down.”
I roll my eyes, still behind him as he reaches his bedroom door. I take him gently by his arm, and he turns around, his gaze shifting to where I’m touching him before locking with mine.
The fuck is happening?
I glare at him. “Talk to me, dude.”
He hesitates, and my chest knots up as he has one of those rare moments when he seems to be struggling for words. It’s like seeing my mom tear up—it dries my throat, makes me want to do anything to make it better.