He must tell by the tone of my voice he’s pissing me off.
“I wanted to make some fuckin’ food and forget all the bullshit that’s happened. Can we do that?”
“And what, forget all the shit you’ve said and done to me?”
“Well… yeah?”
“NO! Just no, Brix! You can’t do one or two nice things and expect me to suddenly forget the many shitty things you’ve said and done.”
“Why not?”
“Are you kidding? Because no matter what you say, your actions have always said differently. It’s like you get off on fucking with me.”
He tosses the spatula on the table. The sound of the metal clanging against the glass table startling me. He stalks toward me, his face red with anger and his breath heavy with every step he makes.
He bends forward, pushing himself into my space, forcing me to lean away from him.
“Why do you always have to push my fucking buttons?”His nostrils flare.
“Why do you always have to be an asshole?”
“I can’t change who I am.”
“Well, then I can’t change the fact I hate you either.”
He grimaces, swallowing hard, and I immediately want to take back those words.Even when they come out of my mouth, I know I don’t mean them.
He takes a step away from me, crossing his arms in front of his chest. Somewhere along the way, he dropped his shirt on the floor. His muscles clench, his jaw set.
“Brix, I didn’t…”
“Just don’t. Forget it.”
“Oh, so now you don’t want to talk?”
He doesn’t respond.
“We’re going to have to deal with one another for the rest of the summer. Alright? It’s not like we’re going to be able to avoid each other. We have to figure out a way to put this aside,” I say, holding my arms out.
“Fine! We’ll avoid each other. You go your way, I’ll go mine. We’ll go back to living like the other doesn’t exist.”
Why does it feel like he reached into my chest and ripped my heart out? It shouldn’t bother me, but it does. If he’s trying to change my mind about him, he’s giving in a lot easier than I thought he would’ve.
I’m not about to let him start getting to me now.
Pushing all hurt aside, I give him the only response I can at the moment, and that’s not a single word. Turning on my heel, I walk back into the house, effectively ending the conversation and any possibility of the two of us getting along.
Ten
Brix
The days after we agree to stay out of each other’s way are void of Ivy’s presence. I can only assume she’s taken off and decided to stay with Kyla or another friend. The house is empty with our parents jet-setting off to Aruba, deciding now is the perfect time to take their honeymoon, leaving me with mixed feelings of the quietness surrounding me.
You’d think with them married and now taking off to celebrate, the reality of the situation would set in, and I’d find a way to get over the thoughts of Ivy that’ve plagued me. What started off as fucking with her has quickly turned into something else.
The tension between us has grown. That, combined with the way I can’t seem to think straight when she’s near, the way my dick grows hard being around her, and the dreams of ravaging her keeping me up at night. I need to find a way to accept this simply cannot happen with us.
No matter how I feel about her, she’s my stepsister. Giving in to the desires, whether it’s to fuck with her or not, would be too messy. Being close to Ivy is like dodging a landmine. If I get too close to her, we’re going down together.