BRIX: A Stepbrother Bully Romance (A Rebels Havoc Book 1) Page 6

  “You’re disgusting.”

  Moaning, I whisper, “Yes, I’m very dirty. Answer me.”

  “Leave me alone, Brix. I’m not doing this with you.”

  “Tell me I’m right, and I will.”

  “I said I’m not doing this with you. Now, GO!” Pushing me back, she shoulders past me and stomps toward the entryway, snatching her purse from where it sits on the bench seat.

  “What do I owe you?”

  She reaches into her wallet and yanks out a handful of cash, clenching it into a fist.

  “Owe me for what?”

  “Don’t play stupid with me, Brix. I’m done playing these games. What do I owe you for the car? I want to pay you back and be done.”

  Clenching my jaw, I shake my head, stalking toward the fridge. Jerking the door open, I reach for a bottle of water. Unscrewing the top, I force myself to take a drink before I even try to rationalize with her.

  “Brix, I’m serious.” Her tone is growing angrier.

  “I’m not takin’ your fuckin’ money. You thanked me for it. Why you bringin’ this shit up again?”

  “If I have to live with you for the rest of the summer, I don’t want it to be with this hanging over my head.”

  “Who’s hangin’ this shit over your head, Ivy?”

  “It’s just, I mean, if I’m going to live here and we have to be around each other, I want to not feel guilty about it. I’m not looking for some handout. The shit you said about my mom. I don’t know who you think we are, but I’m not looking to take either your or your dad’s money.”

  Is that what she thinks? That she’s here looking for some handout? It’s never even crossed my mind.

  Yeah, she came home to stay with her mom for the summer. I also happen to know she’s been busting her ass back at school. Before I knew who Ivyana, the daughter of Charlene, was, I knew all about her accomplishments. My dad hasn’t always been proud of the path I’ve chosen, but he was proud of hers. He says a musician’s life is unpredictable, and I’m throwing away my life on something that may never work out.

  It’s how I know this isn’t about the money for her. She could easily take a handout from her mom, live a comfortable life while she focuses on school next year.

  Except she’s not. She’s putting in the work, and if anything, it makes me respect her even more.

  “I’m not hangin’ nothin’ over your head. I don’t do shit I don’t wanna do, Ivy. You hear me? I did it because I wanted to help you. You already said thank you. Can we move the fuck on now?”

  She stares at me for a moment, evidently not expecting the anger I threw back. I can’t be pissed at her for it, though. I haven’t exactly been kind to her over the years, of course, she’s gonna think the worst of me.

  A pang of guilt hits me in the chest.

  “Thank you, Brix.”

  My only response is a head nod. She already thanked me, but if it makes her feel better to say it again, I’m not going to harp on it.

  Stalking through the kitchen, her purse swings behind her with every step she takes, swiping her drink off the counter. With her hand on the doorknob, she pauses, releasing a heavy breath before she turns her head to face me.

  “I think there’s a good person hidden underneath this asshole exterior you show to the world. I wish you’d show more of him because I kind of like him.”

  Without another word, she opens the door and walks out, leaving me alone with nothing but my thoughts and my own guilt.

  Nine

  Ivy

  “I’m meeting someone here under the name Kyla?”

  The hostess flashes me a warm smile and nods, scanning over the list of names on the screen in front of her.

  “Right this way.” Motioning over her shoulder, she guides me through the restaurant. It’s the middle of the day on a weekday and less crowded, with people scattered throughout. We pass through the bar area, across another doorway leading to another section of tables.

  I spot Kyla right away, her purple hair standing out like a neon sign amongst the small group of people.

  “The server will be right with you,” the hostess says, as I slide into the seat across from Kyla.

  Her fingers had been fast at work, skating across her screen. She smiles to herself, apparently at a message she had sent, before setting her phone down.

  “Long time no talk, woman! I’ve missed you. You’re always working. We need to hang out more, and soon.”

  “I know,” I sigh, sagging back against the seat.

  So much has happened since I got home that I’ve been meaning to catch her up on. She must sense there’s a lot on my mind when she says, “Spill it, woman. Tell me what’s going on.”

  “Well, I told you about how my car broke down and how Brix had stopped to give me a ride?”

  She nods.

  “I woke up the next morning to a phone call from Miller’s Auto. I guess Brix, at some point, made a call to have my car towed in. I have no idea when or why. I was hardly up before they told me it was fixed, and I could come to pick it up.”

  “He did what?” Her eyes bug out of her head, smacking her hand on the table.

  My thoughts exactly. When has Brix ever done a nice thing for anyone?

  “Right? I couldn’t believe it. Despite some rude shit he said to me at the bar earlier that night, which he kind of apologized for, I guess I thought we were moving past it, ya know? Until he decided to bring some girl home last night.”

  Kyla’s eyes narrow, staring at me for a moment with confusion etching her brow. I want to tell her it’s doesn’t bother me like she thinks it does. By the look in her eyes, any line I try to spin to convince her won’t matter.

  “He kept me up all night with the sound of her yelping and his headboard banging against the wall. At least he had the courtesy of trying to cover it up with his music blaring.”

  Kyla chuckles.

  “I didn’t find it funny at all,” I huff, rolling my eyes. “It went on for three frickin’ hours.”

  She takes a drink of her water, studying me as she sets the glass down between us.

  “What is it about him bringing someone home that bothers you?”

  “Well, for one, I was trying to sleep.”

  She nods.

  “Secondly, it’s disgusting. He walked her out this morning and didn’t even know her name.”

  “This is Brix we are talking about. He’s never been one for hearts and flowers. I think most of the women who hook up with him know it, too.”

  “It doesn’t give him an excuse to treat people that way.”

  “Are you more upset by the fact he kept you up last night or that he slept with someone?”

  To answer her truthfully, all of it. It seemed like he only brought her home to toy with me. Part of me knew he was trying to get back at me for Trevor. He was pushing my buttons, trying to get under my skin. He thought by bringing her home and fucking her against our paper-thin walls, he was going to hurt me.

  I don’t know why, but it was that fact that bothered me the most.

  “All of it,” I admit, ripping the paper off the end of my straw, shoving it into my ice water. I avoid her eye contact, leaning forward to take a drink, focusing on cars driving by on the busy street outside.

  Kyla knows me well enough to know I don’t want to talk about it anymore, and I think we are both thankful when our waitress approaches to take our order.

  Kyla folds her menu, handing it to the server when her phone beeps from where it’s sitting on the table. Glancing down, I spot a notification flash on her screen from Tysin. She quickly grabs her phone, but not before I see who it’s from.

  “I’ll have your food right out,” the waitress says.

  As soon as she’s out of earshot, I turn the tables on Kyla.

  "Spill it,” I say, mimicking her as I point to her phone.

  She ignores me, looking down at the screen to check the message before setting it face down on the table.

 
I stare at Kyla, waiting for her response. She’ll squeeze me like a pimple until I’m ready to pop when she wants to get information out of me, but when I do the same, she’s stone-faced. I stare at her, taking in the black hoop in her nose to the diamond studs in her ears, while I wait.

  “It’s nothing really,” she mutters. Her shoulders sag, looking defeated. A hint of longing coats her voice, and I know from growing up watching her every time Tysin came around, she wished it wasn’t the case.

  “Well, he’s texting you, so that has to mean something.”

  “He’s been coming down to Breaking Waves lately.” She shrugs. “We’ve talked a few times, but I don’t know what’s going on.”

  Kyla’s been working at the local surf shop near the boardwalk. I hadn’t pegged Tysin as a surfer. None of the guys in A Rebels Havoc are, but apparently, it doesn’t stop him from finding reasons to drop in and talk to her.

  Whatever happens, we both know the moment her brother finds out, he’ll put his foot down and demand it end.

  “What are we doing, Ivy?”

  Judging by the look on her face, she feels just as confused as I do.

  “They’re a pair of assholes, and we both know it’s going to end in disaster.”

  She’s right. Yet, even knowing it, when we both get up and walk out of here later, we’ll be going right back to where we are now. As much as we know they’re bad for us, we’re going to have to find out for ourselves.

  We spend the rest of our lunch talking about how my job is going and make plans to hit up the beach on my day off next week. Before we leave, we hug, and I promise to stay in touch more, before I head home, hoping to relax before my shift later that night.

  The house is quiet when I get back. Brix and his truck are nowhere to be found. Jogging up the steps, I head for my room to get ready. I’m standing in the bathroom, putting on the finishing touches to my makeup, when I hear the front door open and close. Our parents are hardly around since returning from their recent trip, so my first guess is Brix.

  The floor creaks with footsteps walking past the door, continuing down the hall before walking back toward me.

  “Ivy?” Brix’s knuckles rasp against the wood of the door.

  “Yes?”

  “Can I talk to you before you head out?”

  I pause, wondering how he knows my work schedule, but let it go. It can’t be hard to figure out what nights are busy at the bar or to notice my comings and goings.

  “I guess.”

  “I don’t want to fight with you.”

  “That isn’t helping reassure me…”

  “Just come downstairs when you’re done.”

  “K,” I respond, clipped.

  I’m on hyperalert, listening for any sound of movement on the other side of the door. It’s quiet for what feels like a minute before I hear the floor groan again as he walks down the steps.

  Letting out a deep exhale, I stare at myself in the mirror, picking up the tube of mascara, I take my time doing the rest of my makeup, in hopes of delaying whatever conversation we’re about to have.

  When I’m certain I’ve wasted enough time, I pick up the rest of my stuff and put it back into the linen closet before turning off the light.

  I opted to wear my hair down tonight and kept it light on the makeup, only a small amount of champagne-colored eyeshadow and mascara.

  Dressed in my Whiskey Barrel tank top and denim shorts, I grab a pair of socks to wear with my sneakers and drag myself downstairs. The sliding glass door is open, leading out onto the back patio, and the scent of food cooking on the grill permeates the air.

  “Hey,” I say, holding my hand against the door frame. Brix’s back is facing me, his shirt pulled off, hanging over his shoulder. He’s barefoot, dressed in only a pair of black shorts with the chain clipped to his wallet in his back pocket.

  He glances over his shoulder, his eyes falling on my chest, pausing on my legs before they finally meet mine. He pulls his lip ring into his mouth, biting down.

  “Hi,” he replies, turning his attention back to the food.

  “What did you want to talk about?”

  Stepping down onto the patio, the concrete is warm against my bare feet, as I take a seat on the lawn chair, facing him.

  “You hungry?”

  “What?”

  “Food.” He motions to the burgers cooking on the grill. “You want some?”

  I’m still full from lunch with Kyla, shaking my head no. I can’t help but feel like this is some sort of peace offering.

  He doesn’t say anything, turning back to flip the rest of the burgers before setting the spatula down on the table and ducks back into the house.

  A few minutes later, he steps outside with plates in his hand and condiments in the other. His arms are full, and even though I declined his invitation, I jump to my feet to help him, but he pulls back, shaking his head.

  “Just sit.”

  Pressing my lips together, I drop my arms to my sides and suppress the urge to speak my mind. My tongue darts out, wetting my dry lips. His eyes fall on my mouth, watching as I do. When my teeth clamp down on my lower lip, dragging it into my mouth, his eyes look back at me once again.

  Shaking his head, he stalks away from me and sets everything down on the patio table next to us. His movements are shaky, something clearly bothering him. The ceramic makes a clattering sound against the glass tabletop before he resumes checking the food.

  Why does he have to be so frustrating? If he’s not going to say anything, what’s the point of him saying he wanted to talk to me?

  I have less than an hour before I leave for my shift, and I don’t want to spend the rest of my time skating around whatever is on his mind. I decide then to cut to the chase.

  “Do you wanna tell me what exactly you wanted to discuss?”

  “You can’t just chill, can you?”

  “Brix,” I retort, void of any emotion at all. I’m sick of the fucking games.

  He must tell by the tone of my voice he’s pissing me off.

  “I wanted to make some fuckin’ food and forget all the bullshit that’s happened. Can we do that?”

  “And what, forget all the shit you’ve said and done to me?”

  “Well… yeah?”

  “NO! Just no, Brix! You can’t do one or two nice things and expect me to suddenly forget the many shitty things you’ve said and done.”

  “Why not?”

  “Are you kidding? Because no matter what you say, your actions have always said differently. It’s like you get off on fucking with me.”

  He tosses the spatula on the table. The sound of the metal clanging against the glass table startling me. He stalks toward me, his face red with anger and his breath heavy with every step he makes.

  He bends forward, pushing himself into my space, forcing me to lean away from him.

  “Why do you always have to push my fucking buttons?” His nostrils flare.

  “Why do you always have to be an asshole?”

  “I can’t change who I am.”

  “Well, then I can’t change the fact I hate you either.”

  He grimaces, swallowing hard, and I immediately want to take back those words. Even when they come out of my mouth, I know I don’t mean them.

  He takes a step away from me, crossing his arms in front of his chest. Somewhere along the way, he dropped his shirt on the floor. His muscles clench, his jaw set.

  “Brix, I didn’t…”

  “Just don’t. Forget it.”

  “Oh, so now you don’t want to talk?”

  He doesn’t respond.

  “We’re going to have to deal with one another for the rest of the summer. Alright? It’s not like we’re going to be able to avoid each other. We have to figure out a way to put this aside,” I say, holding my arms out.

  “Fine! We’ll avoid each other. You go your way, I’ll go mine. We’ll go back to living like the other doesn’t exist.”

  Why does it feel like
he reached into my chest and ripped my heart out? It shouldn’t bother me, but it does. If he’s trying to change my mind about him, he’s giving in a lot easier than I thought he would’ve.

  I’m not about to let him start getting to me now.

  Pushing all hurt aside, I give him the only response I can at the moment, and that’s not a single word. Turning on my heel, I walk back into the house, effectively ending the conversation and any possibility of the two of us getting along.

  Ten

  Brix

  The days after we agree to stay out of each other’s way are void of Ivy’s presence. I can only assume she’s taken off and decided to stay with Kyla or another friend. The house is empty with our parents jet-setting off to Aruba, deciding now is the perfect time to take their honeymoon, leaving me with mixed feelings of the quietness surrounding me.

  You’d think with them married and now taking off to celebrate, the reality of the situation would set in, and I’d find a way to get over the thoughts of Ivy that’ve plagued me. What started off as fucking with her has quickly turned into something else.

  The tension between us has grown. That, combined with the way I can’t seem to think straight when she’s near, the way my dick grows hard being around her, and the dreams of ravaging her keeping me up at night. I need to find a way to accept this simply cannot happen with us.

  No matter how I feel about her, she’s my stepsister. Giving in to the desires, whether it’s to fuck with her or not, would be too messy. Being close to Ivy is like dodging a landmine. If I get too close to her, we’re going down together.

  I meet up with Tysin and Madden early that afternoon for band practice. It’s rough; Tysin’s constantly checking his phone. Whatever he’s texting someone about can’t possibly be good, and the fact we’re both distracted puts Madden in a bad mood. We each have a lot on our minds, so we decide to call it an early night.

  It’s Wednesday, which happens to be the night I know Ivy doesn’t usually work. Something about knowing she’ll be off tonight has me hoping she’ll finally stop the cat and mouse games and come home.

  Home. Why the fuck am I thinking about it like we live here, together? Like this is more than what it is?