Rock Hard: A Stepbrother Romance Page 0,5

She didn’t see what I put myself through to get that money, the shit I waded into and got stuck down deep in.

She didn’t see my mom hanging on to life by a thread. She didn’t see my mom eventually beat it, and come through the other side stronger.

She didn’t see the piles of debt we were barely living under. She didn’t see the darkness that I had let take over everything around me.

And after all that, after her short but agonizing visits, she came home. My stepsister, Becca Foster.

The genius girl I couldn’t get out of my damn head.

I watched as Becca climbed up the front steps, lugging her suitcase behind her. I sighed and smiled to myself. It was typical of her to refuse my help. At least she let me get it the first time.

The house was situated on an acre and a half of land, surrounded by dense forests. My stepdad, Jack, had bought it cheap back in the day, and when he married my mom, they moved in together. He had expanded the place big time over the years, adding on a large front porch, two additions, and a dormered second floor. It was a stylized log cabin, and because I barely remembered the houses I grew up in before it, I thought of it as home.

We weren’t wealthy. Far from it, because of the cancer treatments. But Jack worked hard and I helped as much as I could. I didn’t love living at home, but when my mom got sick, all of my plans went out the window. I couldn’t leave, not when she was suffering.

I helped as much as I possibly could. I sacrificed everything for my mother, and I’d do it all over again if I could. But nobody could know about what I did. Nobody could know about the things I did to help cover our bills.

I couldn’t even imagine where we would be if I hadn’t met Thom all those years ago.

“You just going to stand there?” Becca said, looking down at me.

I shrugged. “Rain feels good.”

“Okay, weirdo. Come on.” She pulled off her boots, leaving them by the front door, and went inside.

I stood watching her for a second. Becca, back in my life for a few months. Even after that afternoon in the van, I was still excited to see her. I loved to stare at her ass as she went ahead of me. I couldn’t help myself. The girl drove me fucking crazy.

With a sigh I followed. I stripped off my wet clothes, tossing them over a chair on the porch, and went inside after her.

It was warm, but comfortable. The rain had made the temperature drop, and my mom had lit a fire to heat the house instead of turning on the furnace. I watched as Becca disappeared upstairs, probably going to change into dry clothes and unpack. I walked into the kitchen.

“Everything go okay?” Mom asked me.

“Yeah, fine. She’s upstairs unpacking.”

She nodded and smiled. “I’m so happy you’re both back under one roof again, at least for a while.”

I shrugged. “Sure, it’ll be fine.”

She frowned. My mom had always been a perceptive person, but for whatever reason it was out of control when it came to me. She could practically read my moods like a book.

It annoyed the hell out of me most of the time, but every once in a while it felt good not to have to explain myself.

“Why are you in a bad mood?” she asked playfully.

“I’m not,” I grunted.

Unfortunately, this was not one of those times.

“Come on, out with it.”

“Just tired. Long drive into town.”

She shook her head. “We both know that’s not it.”

“Haven’t climbed in a few days too.”

“Okay. If you want to tell me, feel free.”

I shook my head. What was I supposed to say to her? Mom, I want to fuck Becca so bad it hurts. My dick is practically hard right now from looking at her ass. My heart goes insane when she’s around. I don’t give a shit if she’s my stepsister.

I doubted she would have liked that.

“When’s Jack get home?”

Mom sighed. “Soon, hopefully.”

Just as I was about to respond, Becca appeared in the doorway. “Cora,” she said, smiling.

“There you are!”

They hugged hard and long. I smiled and opened the refrigerator, grabbing a beer and cracking it open. I had to admit, I liked that they had a good relationship.

It didn’t bother me that Jack and I didn’t get along. He could be a fucking prick