Page 9 of Puck My Stepbrother
“You were promised that room, and I get that. I also wanted the room because it was better than the other ones. Because I didn’t know you wanted it, and you hadn’t moved your stuff in yet, I took it.”
And, would you believe it, my stepbrother-to-be sat there wide-eyed, like he couldn’t believe what I’d said. You know, like he totally didn’t get the magic that was Levi Dunn.
That was okay, though. He’d understand the lay of the land soon enough.
“Come on,” I said, “don’t give me that look. You’ve got to understand that I wanted that room. And I get what I want. I take what I want if I have to.”
Instead of flashing me that look again, he returned to his cereal. Back at the stove, I finished cooking my eggs, scraped them onto a plate, and added a piece of toast before sitting down beside him. I inched up nice and close, practically hovering over him. He didn’t shift away from me even an inch, like he didn’t mind me getting in his bubble. That was good. I would’ve expected it from the guy who’d sported a massive boner just from seeing me in a towel.
But would he act on his urges?
That was the million-dollar question.
“Nobody got hurt,” I said, “and no damage done. You’ve got to look at it that way.”
“Nobody got hurt, okay, fine.” He struggled not to roll his eyes. “But that’s not exactly the way to start on the right foot with someone.”
I shrugged, making sure he understood that guys like me not only got what we wanted, but we didn’t compromise, either. It didn’t have to be all bad, though. He’d see that soon enough.
“Hey, I bet you’ve still got a better bedroom here than you did at your old place,” I said. “And besides, I think I can make it up to you…somehow.”
I might as well have punctuated that sentence with a wink and smile, but I didn’t. My stepbrother-to-be, he of the raging boner, would get the picture. At least, I sure hoped he would. Quinn paused and stared at the kitchen wall, saying nothing to address that comment. If his boner last night had told me anything, it was that he’d react strongly when I became more direct.
“So you’re going to Larkin University too, huh?” I asked.
“Uh-huh.”
“What are you taking?”
“English and Creative Writing double major. I want to get into an MFA program once I finish my undergrad.”
“What’s an MFA?”
“Master of Fine Arts. I would get a master’s degree in Creative Writing.”
“That’s cool, that’s cool.” I nodded, trying to show him how much I was digging it. “So, what do you do with an MFA in Creative Writing? Write books or something?”
“You can do lots of things with that degree. Teaching, editing, and yeah, writing books is definitely something people use it for.”
“I think it’s cool that you’re still writing stories like I remember you doing back in school.”
I stared deep into his hazel eyes, hoping to place him under my spell. It’d worked well enough yesterday, when I wasn’t even trying. The only difference now was that I wouldn’t see his erection under the kitchen table. But it would be there. I knew damn well it would. I closed my eyes for a moment, imagining it.
An erection like the one he’d had—and the boner he was hiding under the kitchen table—meant he liked guys. And not just a little. Alot. I’d always sort of figured he liked guys. Don’t ask me what told me that. I’m not sure. It wasn’t a stereotype, but a vibe, I guess.
Again, he didn’t shrink away from me, so that was good news. I knew he totally wanted me, even if he wouldn’t say it in words, so I only needed to finish the job.
“So you’re working on a young adult romance, right?” I asked.
“That’s just a short story I’m working on for fun. I’m between drafts of a bigger project I think can really be something.”
“A novel?”
“Yeah. I guess you’d call it a genre mashup.”
He sounded so tentative, like he didn’t know how much he wanted to share.
“Do you know what a genre mashup is?” he asked.
