Page 1 of Hey, Stepbro

PROLOGUE

Blakely

As I walk into the living room, I see him for the first time.

My new stepbrother.

He sits on the couch, scrolling through his phone with a smirk on his face. At first glance, it's obvious why he has such confidence. No one with eyes that blue could be shy. They’re like the sea, inviting yet unpredictable. A nineteen-year-old boy like me could spend his entire life failing to resist their deadly allure.

His jet-black hair, thick and tousled, falls across his forehead and into his slanted brows. He nonchalantly brushes it aside, drawing my focus to the sharp planes of his cheeks, chiseled jaw, and perfectly sculpted lips.

And then—there are his bulging muscles, visible even through the fabric of his shirt. His broad shoulders, carved chest, and brawny biceps are the result of years of dedicated training. Far from making him approachable, his perfect physique only makes him seem more arrogant.

A quick once-over, and I can already tell, everything comes easy to him.

Walking towards him has me instantly intimated as fuck. He glances up, his expression darkening, as though the unrelenting awkwardness of my presence bothers him. I can't shake the feeling that he’s sizing me up, and my face flushes with apprehension.

"Hey," he says suddenly, nodding in my direction. "You must be my new stepbrother."

I try my best to steady my nerves. "Yeah, I am," I reply, hoping that my voice sounds more confident than I feel.

"Well, welcome to the family," he says with a smirk. "I'm Brock."

I nod in response, still uneasy as a motherfucker. But despite my initial discomfort, I can't ignore the fact that there's something about him that captivates me—something that threatens to suck me in.

Even though everything about Brock screams danger, it’s impossible to ignore the premonition that we're meant to be something more.

Something I can't quite define yet.

If only I knew then how dangerous he’d be for me.

I’d have shoved my shit in Dad’s car and high-tailed my ass out of Riverside, Iowa, right then and there.

Instead, I stayed.

That was the worst mistake of my pathetic life.

CHAPTER1

BROCK

One month earlier

My arm aches as I hurl the football, watching it spiral through the chilly autumn air. All around me, the noise of today's practice reverberates in my ears. I take a moment to catch my breath. The crisp air fills my lungs, invigorating me as my teammates shout and scream.

I'm the starting quarterback for the Riverside Rawdogs. We're the top college football team in Southern Iowa this year, and we have a good shot at winning state.

My teammate, Justin, nabs the ball. "Nice toss, Brock!" he shouts, hustling back to me with the pigskin in hand.

I nod, a surge of pride welling up inside me. Being the Rawdogs’ QB isn't simply a title—it’s my duty. I lead the team both on and off the field, staying focused and motivated even when shit gets tough.

As the Rawdogs and I work through various plays, my thoughts involuntarily drift away. My girlfriend, Amanda, has been on my mind recently. We've been together since senior year of high school, and I adore her above all else. But with my football career soaring and her pursuing her own dreams of becoming a doctor, it seems like our paths are taking us in different directions.

Pre-med.

People say it’s a soul crusher.

I posit it’s a relationship killer.