Stepbrother With Benefits 6 Read online

  Stepbrother With Benefits 6

  Mia Clark

  Published by Cherrylily, 2015.

  This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.

  STEPBROTHER WITH BENEFITS 6

  First edition. April 22, 2015.

  Copyright © 2015 Mia Clark.

  Written by Mia Clark.

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Foreword

  Stepbrother With Benefits 6

  A Note from Mia

  About the Author

  Foreword

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  ~*~

  You can find all of the books in my Stepbrother With Benefits series on Amazon

  Stepbrother With Benefits series

  Stepbrother With Benefits 6

  *** Ethan

  It's too cuddly in here. You know what happens when things get too cuddly? People start making out and having sex or falling asleep. There's something really fucked up about the contrast there, but that's what happens. I've seen it happen before.

  In my case, I usually stop the cuddling from getting too cuddly and out of hand, but again in my case it usually ends up moving towards the making out or having sex end of the spectrum easily enough, too. Not right now. Nah. You want to know what's happening right now?

  She's sleeping. That's it. We finished eating our pancakes and sausage, downed the orange juice fast, and kept watching Netflix. Now Ashley's curled up under the blankets, sleeping. I guess we aren't that close, all things considered. I'm still on top of the blankets, laying down next to her, watching what's going on.

  I have no clue how someone can fall asleep while watching some biker gang do fucked up shit, but whatever. She's sick. I'll give her a pass. She deserves it.

  Someone knocks on Ashley's bedroom door, then opens it before I can say or do anything. I glance up, trying to act all nonchalant, but the fact remains that I'm laying in bed with my stepsister. Kind of weird, don't you think? More weird when you remember we were arguing in front of our parents yesterday, and we've never really been all that close before now. I don't know. Whatever.

  It's Ashley's mom. She sees me there, and sees Ashley sleeping, then lifts one brow, staring at us with peculiar interest. I can't say I blame her.

  "Hey," I say. Be casual, don't fuck this up, Ethan. "What's up?"

  "I was just coming to see if Ashley was awake," my stepmom says. "I know she slept in late yesterday, so I thought maybe she did today, too. I wasn't sure, though, what with everything that happened between her and Jake."

  Oh yeah. That guy. Fuck him. What a stupid, undeserving prick. I should find out where he lives and kick his fucking teeth in.

  "She's not feeling good," I say. "Sick or something? I don't know what. I made her some breakfast and we were watching TV, but then she fell asleep."

  "Oh," her mom says. "Well, that's nice of you. Thank you, Ethan."

  "Nah, don't—" I start to say more, but then Ashley fidgets in her sleep. Her arm stretches out and moves to my chest, wrapping around and hugging me. I stare at her hand. Well, what the fuck am I supposed to do now. "Don't uh... don't worry about it?"

  Her mom laughs, but hides it behind her hand, trying to keep quiet. "Seems you make a good stuffed animal replacement," she says.

  I roll my eyes, try to play it off. "Yeah, I'm cuddly as fuck. Who knew?"

  "Ethan!" My stepmom glares at me for swearing, but she smiles to hide her laugh, too. "Do you want me to help? I can get one of her stuffed animals and we can do a quick switch if you'd like?"

  I shrug. "Nah, I don't care. Whatever. She's tired, right? Sick, too. Should let her sleep."

  "I was going to come find you after and see if you two wanted to go out to dinner with us tonight," Ashley's mom says. "Maybe tomorrow, though? That might be better. I thought we could all do something together as a family. I know that might be strange for you. I hope you don't think I'm imposing on you and your father's life, Ethan. I never meant to."

  Where's this coming from? I don't know. No clue. "Dinner sounds nice," I say. "Yeah, maybe tomorrow would be better. You're not imposing or anything. Sorry if I'm a jerk sometimes. I'm not used to this family thing yet."

  "I know," she says. "And I know we've had this conversation before, but it's been a few years now and I'd like to say it again. If you feel weird with me being your stepmother, I hope we can at least be friends, too. I don't want to replace anyone important to you, Ethan. I don't want you to feel like you have to treat me a certain way or call me Mom if you'd rather not. I'm easy to work with. I'd like to be a part of your life, though."

  "Yeah," I say. I don't know how to deal with this shit. What's with all these emotions and junk? Confusing as fuck, really. "I do like having you as a mom," I say. "I kind of like calling you Mom. If you don't mind, I'd like to keep doing it. I just... yeah... maybe we can play it by ear? Me and my dad have always been kind of like friends, I guess. Sort of. Except uh... yeah, you know."

  "I know," she says. "I'm sorry you had to deal with that."

  "It's cool," I say. It's not exactly cool, but it's been a few years now and I'm over it. "I thought things were going to get bad when I found out about you and him, but everything got a lot better. I really appreciate it. We're kind of screwed up here. I don't know how you and Ashley deal with us," I add, laughing.

  "The most perfect things in life are created by our imperfections," my stepmom says. "You and your father are a part of that, too. Maybe you're both a little rough around the edges, but you're kind and unique and special in your own ways, too."

  I roll my eyes. "Yeah yeah, thanks for the inspirational speech, Mom."

  She giggles. "What I'm really worried about is you and Ashley. I know it's strange. I hope you two can get along? Maybe this is a good start?" she says, nodding towards the hand draped over my chest.

  "She's alright," I say. "I wouldn't mind hanging out with her. I was going to ask her to come to the beach with me today, but then she was sick, so yeah, we're just chilling here. Sorry about the laying in her bed thing."

  Her mom smiles. I don't know what she's smiling about, but it looks mischievous as fuck. What's up with that? She's got some devious machinations going on in her head or something. I don't like it. She's too smart, just like Ashley. Runs in the family, probably.

  "You don't have to apologize to me," she says. "It's between you and her. You might have to apologize to her when she wakes up, but she looks comfortable right now while she's sleeping, doesn't she? I think it's fine. I know you've been through a lot, Ethan, but Ashley has, too. You both probably have more in common than you might think. Be careful with her, alright? I know we're not your real family, but I hope we can become close like one, and I hope you'll look out for her. My daughter is intelligent, but she's not always good at dealing with people or relationships. I think her breakup with Jake is hitting her hard."

  "Yeah, he's just a stupid prick," I say. "I'm sorry, but I'm going to say it how it is."

  Ashley's mom smirks. "Well, thank you. If I remember correctly, you're somewhat of a heartbreaker yourself, though."

  "Yeah, I guess so. Maybe." Might as well admit it. "I know how it must look, but there's a difference. I'm upfront with girls straight from the start. Maybe that doesn't make it better, but I kind of think it does. I really try not to hurt anyone, you know? I still do, so maybe it doesn't matter, but I try not to. I try to keep it simple."

  "I think what probably hurts them the most is that they know they're missing out on an amazing experience with a wonderful guy," she says. "You might be upfront about everything, but that doesn't stop them from missing you when you leave, now does it?"

  I'm not those things, though. I'm not amazing. I'm not wonderful. Girls don't miss me. Seriously, man, they're much better off without me. I'm an arrogant, cocky prick, a football jock asshole, and not a very nice guy. What more is there to say?

  I don't want to start an argument, though. I shrug it off and grunt. Ashley's mom just smirks at me and gives me one of those looks. Yeah, you know the look? The ones moms give to their sons. It's family. She's my family now.

  I can't ever tell her about what's going on with me and Ashley. I don't want to fuck that up. I don't want to ruin this, and I don't want her to hate me. Why'd I get myself into this situation in the first place? Because I'm stupid, obviously. No one's ever claimed I was smart.

  "How about I go to the store and get some soup?" my stepmom says. "Biscuits, too. I'll make some up fresh for when Ashley wakes up, and I'll bring everything up for you both later. What do you think?"

  "Sounds good," I say. "I bet she'll like that. Hey, if you don't mind, maybe grab some cheese, too? She likes melted cheese on her biscuits."

  Her mom smiles wide and nods at me. "She does, doesn't she? I almost forgot. It's nice having you both back in the house. Your father and I missed you two."

  "Yeah, it's nice being back," I say. I smile a little, too. Just a little. Don't get any wrong ideas here.

  "Alright. I'll leave you two be. If you need me, you can call me or come downstairs. I'll tell your father to leave you two alone, so Ashley can get her rest."

  "Alright."

  "Thank you
again for taking care of her," my stepmom says.

  After that, she leaves. She almost keeps the door open slightly, but then at the last minute she turns around and closes it completely. It's cool. Whatever. I don't care.

  I sneak my arm under Ashley's head and around her shoulders, pulling her closer to me. She sighs in her sleep and tugs at my chest a little more. It's fine. She's under the blankets and I'm on top of them. We've both got pajamas on. I swear this isn't as fucked up as it looks.

  Nah, it's probably fucked up. I'm just taking care of my sister when she's sick, right? Stepsister.

  Nah, that's probably even more fucked up. I don't know what's wrong with me.

  *** Ashley

  I must have fallen asleep, but I'm awake now. I don't want to open my eyes, though. I want to go back to sleep. I want to dream nice dreams and forget everything else. It's easy right now, because Ethan is here with me. I thought it would be harder with him here, but it's not. It's easy because of how he's being when he's here, though.

  He's not pressuring me. He's not staying too far away, either. He's actually very close. I have my arm around him and my cheek nestled against his chest. I'm not sure when that happened, but I like it. I should move away, I know it, but I don't, because I don't want to. I'm sleeping, right? I can blame it on that. If anyone sees us like this, I can just say I fell asleep. Maybe Ethan is asleep, too. It's an accident. No one can blame us for it, no one can judge us for this.

  "Has she woken up yet?" my mom asks.

  Oh my God, she's in my room? She can see me. I clench my eyes shut even harder and try to go back to sleep. If she knows I'm awake, I'll have to move away from him. I can't stay like this when I wake up.

  "Nah, not yet," Ethan says. "I think she's waking up, though.

  Why! Why did you say that, Ethan? I don't know why he said that. I guess I really do have to wake up now. I yawn and try to act normal. When I open my eyes and see myself laying on him, I scramble up and away like any normal stepsister in my situation would do. Right?

  "What are you doing!" I say, sitting up and glaring at him. I try to sound properly indignant, but I'm pretty sure everything I just said sounds fake. Maybe I should have taken acting classes sometime. Life seems easier if you can pretend you're something else.

  "Hey, look, you're the one who fell asleep on me," he says. "I was just trying to be nice."

  "You?" I ask, rolling my eyes at him. "Nice? Since when has that ever happened."

  "There's a first time for everything," Ethan says, smirking. "Don't get used to it, though. You're sick. That's the only reason."

  Oh, right. I'm supposed to be sick. I kind of am sick. I still don't know how to deal with what I'm dealing with, but my head is a lot clearer now that I've taken a nap. I don't feel as stressed or hurt as I did before. I know I should, and I will soon enough, but right now I don't.

  "What are you doing in here, Mom?" I ask, turning to her.

  "I brought you soup," she says. "Some for you and some for Ethan. I thought it might help you feel better. Also, on Ethan's suggestion, I made some biscuits with melted cheese on top."

  "Ooohh, I love those," I say. There's an entire plate full, too! They're really good, and I like them with soup since you can cut them in half and dip them in. The melted cheese just makes them better.

  "Sounds like you're feeling a little better then?" my mom asks. "Are you hungry?"

  I nod. "A little better. I'm hungry. How long was I sleeping?"

  "Oh, a couple hours, I'd say. Right, Ethan?"

  "Yeah, something like that," he says, shrugging.

  "You should really thank Ethan for acting as your stuffed animal," my mom says, grinning. "He took it rather well, didn't he? I came in a few hours ago and you were like that, and then when I came back just now to bring up the soup, you were still there. You looked very comfortable."

  Hours? What? And my mom knows? She saw all of it? She's playing it off, though. I think I know why. It makes more sense that way, right? It makes sense if it was an accident, and it makes sense if she doesn't think there's anything else going on between us. Which is good, because I don't want her to know the rest. I don't want her to hate me or hate him or think we're gross and disgusting or wrong. I don't want her to keep us separated for what we've done. Yes, we're adults, but we're both living here for the summer, so we aren't exactly free to do whatever. Even if we were away and on our own, I don't think we would ever truly be free from societal taboos.

  "Thank you," I say, mumbling to Ethan. "You didn't have to do that, though. You shouldn't have. I must have done it when I was sleeping. Sorry."

  Ethan shrugs, then ruffles my hair like I'm a kitten or something. I bristle and act accordingly, pretending to hiss at him. He grins and I laugh. My mother smiles at us.

  "Glad to see you two are getting along better," my mom says. "I was hoping you'd both see the light some day."

  "No," I say. "Ethan's still a jerk."

  "Yeah yeah," Ethan says. "Thanks for the reminder, Little Miss Perfect."

  "Jerk."

  "Princess."

  I don't like how he says that. I don't like that I like how he says that. It's like a secret code shared between the two of us. He really shouldn't do that when my mom is here. I scoot further away from him for good measure, but my very own mother thwarts my plan of separation. She places a medium-sized tray table with two bowls of soup partway between the two of us, forcing us to come closer together so we can eat.

  "I could only find the one," she says, apologetic. "I'm not sure what happened to the other one."

  I know what happened to it. It's on my side of the bed on the floor, hidden from view. I could reach down and get it right now so that Ethan and I can have our own spots to eat, separate from one another, but I don't. Hopefully my mom doesn't see it.

  "Which one is mine?" I ask.

  While I'm staring at both bowls, my mom places the platter of biscuits between us, too. It's warm, but not too hot. I can feel the heat of it sinking into the blankets by my legs.

  "I'll let you two decide," she says. "One is Italian wedding, and the other is beef and barley."

  "Ooohh." This is difficult. "I like both. Um... what do you want, Ethan?"

  He shrugs. "I don't care. I like both, too."

  "You could share?" my mother asks.

  It sounds so innocuous and polite, but my mind has other ideas. I've shared a lot of myself with Ethan over the past few days, haven't I? I don't think I'll ever be able to forget it.

  "You both eat half, then you switch?" my mom adds. "I bought plenty more soup, so there's a lot downstairs if you're still hungry after, too."

  I want to ask why we need to share and switch if there's plenty more soup, but I also kind of like the idea of sharing and switching, so...

  "Share?" I ask Ethan, giving him a funny look.

  "I'm keeping my spoon, though," Ethan says. "Who knows what kind of cooties you have?"

  "Cooties! This isn't second grade, Ethan."

  My mom laughs. "Shush, you two. Behave. I'm going back downstairs to help your father, but let me know if you need anything. You can call me or have Ethan come get me. I bought some medicine if you need any, too, Ashley. I hope you feel better soon."

  "I feel a lot better now, Mom," I say. "Thank you. I'm sure I'll feel better by tomorrow."

  I don't know if I will, but I have to. I have to because of what I'm going to do. I'm going to do it because of moments like this, too. I don't want to ruin them. I don't want to destroy them. I want to keep them precious and safe and mine, and to do that, I...

  I reach for a biscuit and pull it apart, then dip some into my soup. I want to forget, at least for now. Ethan takes a biscuit and rips it apart, too, but then he dips it into... my soup.

  "That's my soup," I tell him, scrunching up my nose.

  "I thought we were sharing?" he says.

  My mom is gone now. She closed the door behind her, too. It's just us.

  "I'm sick, Ethan. Feed me?" I ask, smiling. I wonder if he'll do it?

  "Are you serious?" he asks, giving me a funny look.

  I nod quick. "Maybe?"

  "Make up your mind, Princess!"