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I still couldn’t believe that was Austin. I tried to grab my phone and check his Facebook page but Dad grabbed my phone and put it in his pocket. Sitting through the whole ceremony while I kept my eyes locked on my stepbrother impostor from my first row seat was killing me.

After the ceremony, we waited by the edge of the stage while New Hot Super Austin shook hands with the faculty and several of his classmates. Several girls hugged him way too tight and too long and I realized I was suddenly jealous!

When Austin finally joined us and I got to see him up close, I found myself studying this new hotty for any signs of the nerdy brother that I could recognize. He was there, deep inside this new Adonis. I could see the guy I remembered in his smoky gray-blue eyes that used to be hidden behind those dorky little wire glasses. He must have gotten contacts or laser surgery or whatever. Without the glasses I could see how beautiful his eyes really were. Deep blue irises with gray flecks and thick, dusty-colored lashes looking down at me with a cautious glare as though he were trying to decide if he should even acknowledge me.

After much hugging and back patting and “congratulations” and “we’re so proud of you” from Mom and Dad, Austin finally decided to greet me with a half-hearted hug that didn’t quite satisfy my burning curiosity about how firm those pecs and abs must feel.

I followed the trio to the car, quietly sulking behind them at being virtually invisible to Austin. No one talked to me during the drive to the restaurant and all through dinner I listened sullenly as Austin explained the two offers he had to choose between for the new gaming software he’d come up with.

He was torn between the larger offer from the big corporation and a lower offer from a smaller up-and-coming company that had also offered him a job with an opportunity to continue work on his project.

“Yeah, well, I could take the 1.6 bill and just walk away,” he mused as he waved a fork full of rigatoni in tiny circles in the air, “but that’s exactly what I’d have to do— walk away. I give up all rights to future earnings and have no say in where they take it from there.” He slid the pasta into his mouth during the pause. I watched his jaw work as he chewed. I watched his lips as he spoke. I was lost in fantasies about what those firm lips would feel like against mine.

“…only 500 million, but it means getting to maintain creative control of my product and I’d make money off the future of the software. I haven’t decided yet. I told them I’d get back to them after graduation.” Mom and Dad nodded and smiled and intermittently cooed appreciatively as Austin finished the harrowed tale of his dilemma. Holy shit! My brother— err, make that step brother, suddenly that seemed very important to me— really was about to become a billionaire.

I had absolutely nothing to contribute to their conversation. Apparently Mom and Dad had been up to date on all this for awhile while I’d pretty much done my best to pretend Austin didn’t even exist for the last several years.

I knew nothing about software or computers beyond social media and a few artistic rendering apps that let me digitally modify images for my art.

I wanted to join their conversation but I was in way over my head. All this big business talk was really making me feel insignificant. I’d probably never make a million dollars total in my life time, and here Austin was deciding between becoming an instant billionaire or settling for being a mere multimillionaire right out of college.

I was so pathetic. I wanted to be proud of Austin but I couldn’t help but be jealous of how Mom and Dad were fawning all over him and what a disappointment I was to them. I couldn’t blame them though. There was no way I could compete with my stepbrother.

I sat through dinner, quietly pushing my food from one side of my plate to the other. I’d lost my appetite somewhere around “1.6 billion” and I hated that Austin was ignoring me like I was still some dopey baby with a crush on her new big brother.

And I hated that I felt like that dopey eight-year-old little girl with a crush on her big brother all over again.

Mom and Dad spent the next day helping Austin pack up his apartment but they let me sleep in and spend the day by myself. I was so glad I didn’t have to spend the whole day listening to them praise Austin again. I wasn’t sure which was worse, them ignoring me when I was right there the whole time, or when they would compare me to Austin saying things like, “See, Nina? You should consider college like Austin,” or, “See, Nina? You should get into programming like Austin.”

I spent the day stalking my stepbrother’s social networking pages, trying to see the progression of his metamorphosis from super dork to super fine. His official web page for his business was all professional head shots and press photos. His personal Facebook profile, however, had a lot more personal stuff. His freshman year at college showed the same tall, gawky boy with the shaggy hair in his eyes that I remembered absently saying goodbye to when he left home. Somewhere around his junior year of college— about the same time he started making money with his game software— his photos started showing traces of the man I’d met at the graduation ceremony.

His height stopped looking so awkward as his shoulders and chest filled out. He got a real hair style— shorter around the ears and neck with a little length on top like he was wearing it now. Soft, not spiky, it made me want to run my fingers through the dusty blonde waves. That was about the time he lost the glasses too. Then, by the time he’d started his senior year of college, all his pictures showed this total hunk of man meat that had made me glad I had my own hotel room because I’m sure I’d been moaning out loud during some of the raunchy dreams I had last night.

r />   It just wasn’t fair for Austin to turn out so yummy. And rich. He’s my stepbrother, after all. It’s not like I can actually do anything about my rekindled crush. Besides, it’s not like he’d ever go for me anyway.

Aside from the Bohemian starving artist thing I’ve got going on, I’m frumpy. I’m an entire foot shorter than Austin as just a hair over 5′3″, and what I lack in height, I make up for in curves with big boobs that get in the way all the time and round hips that guarantee I’ll never own a bathing suit that doesn’t come with a skirt on it.. I never wear make up or bother with my hair— I’m just not girly like that. Give me a pair of worn in jeans and a t-shirt any day and I’m good to go. It’s not like I have anyone I need to impress.

I thought about Stephen back home. Probably hanging out on the lake right now, drinking beer and flirting with some other girl.

Damn. I was so hoping to get with Stephen this weekend. He wasn’t much to look at, just another skinny high school guy, but he got me. Like, he was totally into my whole artist thing and thought it was cool that I wasn’t another plastic Barbie doll with bleached blonde hair and fake nails.

At least, that’s what he always told me. Now that I thought about it, he’d always been pretty eager to touch my tits. Maybe that’s all he really wanted?

I shrugged at the thought. Who cares? I mean, it wasn’t like I was crushing on Stephen. I just wanted to lose the big V and get it over with and he seemed like my best option. Who knows when I’d find a guy who was really into me?

Still 3 hours before Austin’s stupid banquet thing, that meant it would be a couple more hours before Mom and Dad came to pick me up.

I lay back on the king size bed and pictured Stephen in my mind. Cute, scrawny, Stephen giving me that mischievous little grin that said “I want to lick your titties” while we were in class. He’d been the first boy I ever French kissed— on a dare at Becky Plunkett’s 14th birthday party, and we’d been kinda coupled off ever since.

I closed my eyes and thought about my stolen plans for this weekend as I ran my fingers over my lips and down my throat, picturing Stephen as my hands moved farther down and alternately cupped my breasts as I lightly pinched and teased my nipples.

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