The Stepbully She Craves

"Josh!" I screamed, storming out of my room, stomping down the hall towards his door. My fist pounded on the wood before I grabbed the doorknob and threw the door open. The asshole was sitting on his bed, laptop settled on his lap with a shit-eating grin stretched across his lips.

He looked at me with bright blue eyes that glowed in contrast to his tan skin, brown wavy hair framing his handsome face. I hated that he was so good-looking, he'd always been the golden child in this house. At twenty- three, he was working on his Master's in college and I'd been lucky to graduate high school. I was nineteen years old, four years younger than him, and even though I was technically the baby in this house, I wasn't the pampered kid.

"You read my diary again! That's private."

Setting the laptop aside, he said, "I have two things to say about this. Listen up, because what I have to say is important."

"I don't care what you have to say."

Sitting up on his bed, he leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. The muscles in his muscular chest and shoulders flexing as he moved.

"First, you shouldn't be keeping a diary anymore. You're 19 years old and diaries are for little girls who have nothing better to do than sit around thinking about what their lives will be like when they grow up and have boobs. In addition to that, if you must keep a diary, you should hide it better. You've been keeping it in the same place since you were ten."

I hated him.

"Second, we need to discuss your love life."

I crossed my arms over my chest and scowled. "I don't have a love life."

"Iknow," he answered. "So, I want to help you with that."

"I don't want anything from you, Josh. We tolerate each other. We always have and we always will. Since I met you at thirteen, I've hated you. Why

would I want your help now?"

His blue eyes flashed in the sunlight that poured in through his window, his body a perfect work of art as he stood up from his bed and walked over to me. When he was within reach, he gripped my chin between his fingers before I could move away, bringing his head so close I thought he would kiss me. My heart stuttered and my breathing sped up.

But he didn't kiss me. Instead he angled his head to whisper in my ear, his lips tickling the sides as he talked. "You didn't hate me when you met me, Bailey, not from what I remember.”

Shivers raced across my skin, as anger settled into my spine. Fuck him. What I felt back then was nothing more than a young crush and he'd made sure to destroy my heart as fast as he could.

Pulling my head away from his hand, I glared at him. "I was stupid back then for liking you, too young to understand that we couldn’t be anything more than siblings because our parents got married. Back then, I hated it because I had to see you every day after you denied me, but now I hate it because I can't get away from you."