Rock Hard: A Stepbrother Romance Page 0,2

him out up ahead, moving fast between the trees.

“Wait up!” I yelled, but he didn’t seem to hear me.

I had always been a good hiker but I wasn’t nearly in the kind of shape Reid was. His whole body seemed like it was built to move through the outdoors, almost like he never got tired. His callused hands were strong, much stronger than I realized, and could grip pretty much anything.

That was probably why he was the best climber in our region.

“Hold on!” I called again, and this time he heard me. He looked back over his shoulder, water dripping from his hair and into his eyes.

“Lost a step, sis?” he asked.

“No. Your legs are just longer than mine. And stop calling me that.”

He shrugged. “We’re almost there.”

We had left the path a mile ago, and I knew that if I lost him I would be completely screwed. I had a good sense of direction and could probably find my way back to town eventually, but I had no clue how long that would take.

We started walking again, and this time he stayed at my pace. We didn’t talk, and my heart flittered nervously. I had no clue where he was taking me or why. I was leaving the next day for school, and he had shown up at my bedroom door earlier that morning asking if I wanted to see something. Curious, I said yes.

I had stopped caring about the rain fifteen minutes ago. My parka was soaked through down to my underwear, and my hiking boots felt like I was treading water. The mud sucked at the soles of my feet but I kept moving, making sure I didn’t fall behind.

Ahead, there was a small clearing.

“Almost there,” he said softly.

“What are you showing me?”

“You’ll see.”

That was all he kept saying. I’ll see. He could be pretty mysterious when he wanted to be.

We crossed the clearing and stepped through some thick bushes. Once through, he stopped.

“There,” he said, pointing.

Up ahead, there was an old abandoned van like the kind hippies drove around in the ’60s. I laughed.

“You brought me here just to show me some junk?”

He shook his head. “Not junk. Come on.”

I followed as he walked down toward the car. I had a strange feeling about what was happening, but I didn’t say anything. The van itself wasn’t in terrible shape, all things considered. The green paint job made it blend into the forest, and it wasn’t too rusted. The tires were completely flat and I thought I saw plants growing up through the undercarriage, but the windows weren’t broken and the handles were all intact.

He grabbed the back door and pulled it open. It slid without any sounds.

“Are you sure this is okay?” I asked.

He grinned at me. “Look.”

Inside, there was a small, thin mattress covered in blankets and maybe twenty or thirty candles. Along the back side was a short bookcase filled with books and magazines.

I laughed. “What is it?”

“This is my special place. My hideout from the world, I guess.” He climbed in and I followed him. It was surprisingly spacious, though I was acutely aware of how close he was to me and how heavily I was breathing. Apparently, I was in worse shape than I had realized.

“Took me a while to build it. Had to caulk a few leaks.”

“It’s amazing, Reid.”

He moved closer to me. “I’m glad you like it.”

I snapped back to the present when he put the windshield wipers on. I hadn’t even noticed that the rain started up again. I watched the wipers flash back and forth across the glass, glad of the distraction.

I wasn’t ready to relive that entire memory. Especially not with him right next to me, barely inches away.

“How’s your mom doing?” I asked.

“She’s good. Looking forward to seeing you.”

“Yeah? Her hair getting longer?”

He laughed. “Yeah, actually. She stopped wearing those awful wigs.”

I smiled. Cora was absolutely stunning in a classical kind of way. Even at her sickest, she still managed to look completely perfect. When the chemo made her hair fall out, she had gotten a huge assortment of wigs, and she loved to send me pictures of her trying them on.

“They weren’t awful. She pulled them off.”

He grunted but didn’t respond.

Things were a little strained between us, and for good reason. I guessed the novelty of seeing me for the first time in a year was wearing off. I wouldn’t have been surprised if his mind was in the same place mine was.

We moved through