"I don't know how I feel about you living with a boy your age," my dad says.
"Well, unfortunately for you, that's not up to you," I reply.
"It's just not appropriate, Gréta."
"Not appropriate? Like sleeping with your secretary and then leaving your wife and daughter for her?"
That shuts him up pretty quickly.
"Well, if you're uncomfortable at all, you're always welcome here."
Yeah, fat chance I'd want to crash at his place with his mistress-turned-wife.
It's been about three years since my dad cheated on my mom and subsequently left us, and my mom recently remarried. Her new husband is a nice guy – the complete opposite of my dad, but I can understand the logic there.
My dad's issue is that now we're all moving in together: me, my mom, my stepdad, and my new stepbrother, Lukas Thomassen – the hottest guy at my school, in my humble opinion. He's a grade ahead of me, and we run in different circles, so we never talked before our parents got together. We still haven't really spoken to each other yet, and now we'll be sharing a bathroom.
I'm trying not to feel weird about it all. I mean, I never thought I would have a chance with him anyway, so I wouldn't consider him a crush or anything. But that doesn't mean I wouldn't jump him given the chance. But my case is so hopeless, I haven't even told my friends that I'm interested in him.
We move into the new house over the weekend before school starts again, and the only interaction I have with Lukas is to ask him which room he wants.
"I couldn't give less of a shit," he says flatly, so I shrug my shoulders in what I hope is a nonchalant way before grabbing the room with a bigger closet.
My next interaction with my new stepbrother isn't until Monday morning. I stumble sleepily out of my room toward the bathroom and smack right into him as he leaves it. He's only covered by a towel wrapped around his waist, and he's still steamy from the shower.
"Oh, um, sorry," I manage to mumble, trying my very best not to gape at his naked chest. He looks at me with what might almost be a smirk then silently returns to his room. He gives me a ride to school that morning, and I stare out the window, willing my face to cool down as steamy thoughts invade my mind.
At school, my friends pry me for information on him, but I don't take their bait. Even if we're not related, I'm not going to admit to them that I have the hots for my new stepbrother.
Lukas and I barely talk at home, and we're never near each other at school, and I'm starting to think I'll be the invisible stepsister until he finally talks to me on Friday afternoon. My friends and I are sneaking a smoke outside school as we wait for our respective rides. They nudge me suggestively when Lukas appears, but I roll my eyes and put out the cigarette before following him to his car.
"What would your mother say if she knew you smoke?" Lukas asks casually. I turn to look at him straight-on for the first time since Monday morning, and he smirks at me. "You think you're some kind of badass?"
"Something like that," I reply neutrally.
"Tobacco or weed?"
"Why do you care?"
"Tobacco's worse for you, but weed would get you in more trouble."
"Either way, it's my business, not yours."
"I'm just looking out for you. We're family now right?" He says the word "family" sarcastically.
"That's entirely unnecessary," I say hotly. "Who do you think you are anyway?"
Lukas's smirk grows. "Tobacco then. You're too straight-laced to smoke pot."
"You don't know anything about me!"
"Alright, fine." He holds his hands up in surrender. "Then you're too smart to smoke pot right in front of the school."
Most of the drive home goes by in silence as I sit there fuming. He's pretty presumptuous for someone who doesn't even talk to me.
Saturday morning, Lukas takes extra long in the bathroom, so I'm standing outside the door when he emerges. Once again, I try not to gape at his uncovered chest or the way his wet hair falls in his face. The steam and smell of his body wash wafts out and wraps itself around me. I imagine this is what it's like to be in his arms.
"Good morning," Lukas says, pulling me out of my daydream.
"Morning," I mumble back as I slip into the bathroom. As I close the door, I think I see him wink at me. But that's stupid, he barely even notices me. Unless...
Unless he took extra long in the bathroom to make sure I'd be waiting outside when he was done. Unless he's been walking out of there every morning in nothing but a towel in order to get a reaction out of me.
Well, two can play that game, I decide. It's still warm out, so after my shower I put on my shortest shorts and a tank top. If that catches his attention, I can't tell. So the next morning, I wake up early and beat him to the bathroom. I have no way of knowing if he's outside the door when I'm ready to come out, so I try my most neutral face as I walk out wrapped only in my own towel. He is leaning against the wall across from the door, the very picture of neutrality other than one raised eyebrow.
"Morning," I say with a smile.
"Good morning." His eyes never leave mine. He's either very good at this, or he's the coldest fish I've ever met.
Every morning after that, Lukas beats me to the bathroom and walks out fully clothed. I try not to feel too disappointed, I shouldn't be lusting this hard after my stepbrother anyway, and I go back to sleeping in. However, another thing changes: he starts talking to me more. Only in the car to and from school, but it's more than before. I'm surprised to find that we have very similar interests and attitudes, and I wonder why we haven't spoken before our parents married.
After a few weeks of casually friendly communication, Lukas and I actually hang out for the first time. Okay, it's at home, and only because neither of us have anything better to do, but it's something. Our parents go out on a date and leave us with money, so we order pizza (medium meat lovers with breadsticks) and agree on a movie (The Shining).
We sit on the couch, watching the movie in silence. Lukas gets up once to use the bathroom, and when he comes back, I swear he sits closer to me than before. I stare at the television with what I hope is a blank face, but I can no longer concentrate on the movie. I stand up to go grab a glass of water, and when I come back, he's moved even closer. I sit down in the same spot, because I'm not going to move further away from him, but I'm not going to show my interest by moving closer to him. After several minutes, I hear him shift and suddenly feel his breath on me. I look at him, and his face is inches from mine.
"Gréta," he breathes, leaning in closer. My breath catches, and my heart flutters, and I close my eyes in anticipation for what is about to come.
Just then, Lukas's phone rings. He hesitates, as if he's contemplating ignoring it, but then he sighs and gets up to answer it. I turn back to the television, taking a steadying breath. Was he really about to kiss me? When he returns, he sits on the other side of the couch from me. "Our parents will be home soon," he says in the most damned neutral voice that confuses me on every level. Maybe I misunderstood?
For the next two weeks, things are icy between us again. Every silent car ride with Lukas makes me more and more angry, so when one of his friends invites me and some of my friends to his house party on Friday afternoon, I happily accept. I could use a little music and alcohol to take my mind off my stepbrother.
I go to Mei's house to get ready, since her parents are out for the night, then we meet some others at the house. Lukas's car is in the driveway when we get there, and I suppress the urge to roll my eyes. Of course he would be at his friend's party, so I just have to try to avoid him.
However, after a few drinks, I forget exactly why I'm avoiding him and decide to go talk to him.
"What the hell are you doing here?" Lukas asks me angrily.
"Hey there, bro!" I giggle.
"You're drunk."
"No, I'm just a little tipsy. Come drink with us!"
He grabs me by the arm and pulls me outside. "I'm taking you home."
"Who the fuck do you think you are?" I yank my arm out of his grasp, sobering up quickly. "You don't have any authority over me."
"Gréta, these are not good people for you to party with."
"They're your friends!"
"That doesn't mean you should hang out with them."
"And you're a goddamned piece of work, Lukas Thomassen. One day you're too warm towards me, all 'Gréta, Gréta.'" I imitate him in a husky voice, leaning in close to his face. "Then you're totally cold to me for two weeks straight. And now you're trying to act all protective of me, you don't make any sense!"
Lukas grabs me firmly by the shoulders and plants a kiss right on my lips. I feel the world slip away from me for a second, then I realize it's just the alcohol making me stumble. He holds me up, staring straight into my eyes. "Get in the car, Gréta."
Well, how can I say no to that?
Still, I slam the door closed and stare out the window as he gets in and starts the engine. My brain slowly processes everything against the alcohol. Eventually I realize that we're both sitting in silence, and I start to wonder if the kiss was something I just imagined.
"You'd better not go back to ignoring me," I grumble. He pulls onto a side street and parks the car, and I look around to realize we're in a dark lot. "Where are we?"
Without answering, Lukas unbuckles his seatbelt, grabs my chin, and guides me into a hot kiss. I involuntarily moan against his lips, and he fumbles to unbuckle my seatbelt to pull me closer.
"This is a bad idea," I gasp when he frees my lips to kiss down my neck.
"Do you want me to stop?" he asks huskily into my ear, making my breath catch. I no longer feel tipsy, at least not from the alcohol.
"Don't you dare."