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But still, Mariknows. After the paramedics left, she avoided my eyes and disappeared into her bedroom without a word. Yet we can’t avoid the subject forever because I’m driving her to her new school tomorrow, and it’s going be a five-hour trip. In fact, we’re staying the night at a hotel along the way, so there will be plenty of time for conversation. But will Mari acknowledge what happened between us? Or will she ignore the subject completely? After all, I know I should be embarrassed, not to mention ashamed and horrified at my physical reaction to her. But instead, the opposite is true: I’m attracted to the sassy brat, and suddenly, our road trip just got a lot more interesting.
CHAPTER3
Mari
Iopen my eyes the next morning, and I’m not sure what to think. This is the day that I finally leave Oakdale for college, and my stepdad is the one who’s going to drop me off. But do we acknowledge what happened yesterday? Or is he going to pretend like nothing happened at all?
I creep down the stairs, and even though it’s only 7 a.m., Harris is already in the kitchen. He looks gorgeous, as usual. The huge man has a white t-shirt on, in addition to plaid pajama pants. His black hair is mussed, and that bronzed expression intense as he stares at whatever he’s frying on the stove.
“Scrambled eggs?” I say by way of greeting, leaning one hip against the counter.
He turns, his features deceptively relaxed because beneath the superficial smile, I can see that he’s stressed.
“I was thinking fried, but if you like scrambled it’s no problem,” he says, waving towards the breakfast bar. “Take a seat and I’ll have your eggs ready for you in a sec.”
But I can see how his eyes sweep over me before quickly moving away. I can also see how much Harris hates himself for it. After all, I like to sleep comfortably, and that means that I’m dressed in my usual pajama set: a crop top that shows off my belly button, as well as short shorts that highlight my long legs. My hair is messed in that sexy, casual, Victoria’s Secret kind of way, and my cheeks are still flushed from a good night’s rest.
But Harris isn’t like that. He merely looks away again before practically boring holes into the frying pan with his stare. His hand grips the spatula so tightly that it’s white-knuckled, but then the alpha male takes a deep breath, like he’s telling himself to relax. Sure enough, the muscles in his back unclench a bit, and the lines around his eyes soften. The man of the house is doing what’s right, and I appreciate him for it.
But still, I don’t know what I want because the truth is that I’ve been attracted to Harris for the past year or so. It came out of nowhere. One day, he was just my mom’s ex, and then last summer, my friend Alice was over and we were in the pool in back. She giggled because Harris and one of his friends were grilling on the deck, and she kept throwing them flirtatious looks.
“Ali, what are you doing?” I whispered. “Don’t you know Brandon is old? Like in his 40’s old?” I said, referring to Harris’s buddy.
Alice just giggled again.
“Yeah, but that’s not too bad. I mean, I just turned eighteen, so it’s a twenty-two-year age difference. That’s not too much.”
I stared at her.
“Ali, do you hear yourself?Twenty-two years? That’s more years than we’ve been alive!”
But my friend wasn’t dissuaded, and just patted her wet hair.
“No, it’s fine,” she cooed, still staring over at the men. “Besides, Brandon isfine, girl. Look at that six pack.”
I looked, but it wasn’t Brandon that my eyes were drawn to. Instead, it was my stepfather, and my heart did an unexpected flip. After all, Harris has always been ‘my mom’s husband’ in my mind, and nothing more. He was just a presence in the house who paid the bills, worked in the home office, and occasionally grilled burgers for us. The older man didn’t really register, although I knew I should be grateful to him for putting a roof over my head.
But for the first time, my heart thumped as I took in the handsome man. When did he become so attractive? Harris’s black hair seemed darker than usual that day, almost like it was absorbing sunlight. His form was tall and broad, with a muscular chest that was shown off in a fitted black T. His jeans hung off his hips, and as he tilted his head back to laugh, I caught a glimpse of flashing white teeth.
Who is this person?I thought as my pulse raced.It’s like I’ve never seen him before.
But then, it was as if Harris could read my mind. His eyes suddenly caught mine, and I froze like an animal in the headlights. That blue gaze pierced my soul and my heart thumped so loud I could hear it in my ears. It was as if a veil had been lifted and I was seeing my stepfather for the first time as aman, and not just a parental figure.
Something clicked in his mind too. Our gazes locked for just a tad too long before he looked away, and when I finally came to my senses, I was panting and my skin was flushed.
“Are you okay?” Alice asked, throwing me a curious look. “Are you getting sunstroke?”
“No,” I mumbled, looking down. Goodness, my hands were literally shaking, and quickly, I hid them in the water to mask the tremors. “It’s probably just that hot dog I ate.”
“Really?” Alice asked, squinting her pretty blue eyes at me. “Hot dogs are processed foods, girlfriend. Those don’t usually have salmonella or anything like that. It’s the only thing about cured meat that’s good for you. That stuff has been through so many machines, and has so many chemicals and preservatives that you’re pretty much not going to catch anything.”
“Thanks,” I said with a wry smile her way, still hiding my body’s reaction to Harris. “I appreciate the assurances.”
“No problem!” Ali said with an airy smile. “Trust me. You know I want to be a nutritionist, so I know all about these things. Any questions, just ask.”
Fortunately, the conversation continued in a benign vein, so I was saved from the questioning eyes of my friend. Not that Ali’s so perceptive, but still: no one wants to admit that they think their stepfather’s hot.
But Harris really is, and the awareness between us never went away after that. We never acted on it, of course, but I could feel his eyes on me as I tiptoed about the house. Even worse, I started dressing sexier to get his attention by supplementing my wardrobe with mini-skirts, crop tops, and thigh high sheer stockings that are altogether inappropriate for a teen girl. Still, I’m a straight A student, so I think most people kept their mouths shut. Maybe I was in sexy attire, but I was also killing it on my exams and likely trouncing their kids when it came to the SATs.
