Page 33 of Puck My Stepbrother
The less I saw of Levi Dunn, the better.
School treated me roughly, but I blamed that on fatigue plus the myriad of wild thoughts swirling through my mind. The worst was when I saw Jeff. No, I didn’t see my old bully’s face when we were speaking, but I couldn’t carry on a normalconversation with him, either. My mind constantly drifted back to Levi and the night of passion he’d given me.
I arrived home ahead of Levi, who normally returned around six or six thirty, depending on hockey practice. I planned to eat dinner and then lock myself in my bedroom for the rest of the night. That would be the only way to avoid my stepbrother-to-be.
But what would I do tomorrow and the next day? What about next week, next month?
My stepmother-to-be was working that night, leaving just my dad and me at the dinner table. No Levi, thank God for small favors. Dad sat across from me, twirling spaghetti noodles around a fork, but stopped halfway in lifting it to his mouth.
“Something’s wrong,” he said.
“No, it’s not.”
“Quinn, I’m your father. Don’t I know you better than anyone? Something’s definitely wrong. I can tell.”
I said nothing, just ate another forkful of spaghetti.
“It’s a boy, isn’t it?” Dad asked.
Oh God, if he only knew. But I couldn’t tell him what boy my problems revolved around. Jeff was heavy on my heart…but Levi had taken up far more space than I was comfortable with. I didn’t have to like that any more than I liked anything else about it.
“You’ve been seeing someone and it’s not working out like you hoped it would?” he asked. “Or maybe you’re getting something going, but you’re loaded with anxiety over whether it’ll go anywhere?”
I wanted to tell him that he was partly right. But that would’ve prompted follow-up questions, digging deeper and deeper, forcing me to admit he was right about more than I wanted to let on.
“Actually,” I said, “it’s Levi.”
Now Dad rested his fork on his bowl. His expression didn’t change, but I knew what he was thinking.
This again?might as well have left his lips.
“What’s the problem?” he asked.
“I’d really rather not talk about it.”
“Come on now, son. It doesn’t work that way. You can’t drag your future stepbrother into the conversation and refuse to say why. It’s against the rules. So what’s the problem? Let’s hear it.”
Right, Quim, Levi’s voice whispered inside my head. Why don’t you tell your dad about how I used your ass and gave you the greatest night of sex you’ll ever have in your entire life?
“He doesn’t respect my space,” I said. “Actually, he doesn’t respect much of anything.”
“We’ve been through this before, Quinn. If you’re having some sort of problem with Levi, you’ve got to tell him directly.”
“I have.”
I realized instantly how sharp my words sounded, like little darts launched at Dad for bothering to say something so stupid. Of course, he hadn’t spent the lion’s share of his public school days as Levi’s whipping boy.
“You wouldn’t understand,” I said.
“Come on, Quinn. Give me a break. Do you have any idea how dramatic you sound?”
“I’m not being dramatic at all, Dad. I’m dead serious. Things have never gotten better with Levi. They’ve only gotten worse.”
“How can you say they’ve gotten worse? You’re adults now, for Christ’s sake.”
“Maybe ‘worse’ is the wrong word. They’re different now. It’s like Levi has given me this whole new wrinkle to deal with on top of the other new stuff.”
I couldn’t have come closer to telling the truth without spilling more tea than I wanted.
