Read Step Wilde: A Stepbrother Romance Online
Authors: Vesper Vaughn
Tags: #bad boy, #rockstar, #stepbrother BBW romance bad boy opposites attract one night stand second chance second chances bad boy attraction college, #movie star, #bbw, #alpha, #hollywood
"I'm allergic to cherries," he said, furrowing his brow.
I gave him a significant look. Of course I knew that. I'd known that since his ninth birthday party, where Josh's throat swelled up so incredibly after a juice box mix-up he'd ended up in the back of the ambulance. It was the best birthday ever. I'd managed to charm the ambulance driver into letting me sit in the front and operate the sirens. I remembered that Josh, ever the rule follower, had been concerned that the breach of protocol might lead to the firing of the very kind EMTs who had saved his life.
"Yeah, I'm aware of that," I said quietly.
Josh smiled and then rubbed his hand through his hair. “I'm too tired to argue."
I leaned forward and whispered. "You also owe me for spring break. Those two girls I managed to wingman for you?"
Josh held up his hands in surrender. "You had me at spring break." I gave him a quick hug.
"See you at home," Josh said. "Walk carefully." Then he whispered, "Do not fuck with this girl, okay?"
He'd never said that to me before. That must mean that he knew something that I didn't. "Deal," I replied.
Josh raised his voice and looked over in the direction of Olivia, who had pulled out the cash drawer. "You guys going to pay or what?" she asked without looking up.
Josh replied. "Wilder's getting the check. I'm actually going to head back to my dorm for the night," he said. "Thanks so much for letting us in."
I stood up and walked over to the counter, pulling my wallet out. "Of course I will pay," I said, counting out five one dollar bills and hoping it would cover it. My debit card had barely managed to cover the bar tab and this was all that I had left.
Olivia took the five dollars from me without looking, flipping up the black plastic arm that held down the bills and sticking them neatly in the drawer. I hovered, watching her count. I suddenly noticed that she wasn't taking any notes on the math that she was doing. Instead, she was whispering feverishly to herself a string of numbers.
I had the sense to wait until she was finished to talk. "Are you some kind of math genius or something?"
Olivia took the excess money and zipped it into a fake leather pouch with ‘First National Bank’ emblazoned on the red material in white letters. She bent below the countertop and twirled the metal knobs of a black metallic safe with her fingertips. It clicked open a moment later and she shoved the zippered pouch behind its heavy door, closing the safe with twirl of the knob. It spun freely for several seconds before coming to a stop. She stood up, dusting off her knees and exhaling.
"Your friend forgot his pastry," she said pointedly, looking over at the table that now had two mugs of hot coffee and two pastries on plates sitting there. I looked next to the register and saw a small vase with wilting flowers. I picked the vase up and set it in the center of the round table. Then I turned around and gestured grandly at the impromptu picnic.
"Josh is actually allergic to cherries," I said grimly. "I was hoping that you could join me instead."
Olivia's cheeks turned pink once again. She rearranged her face into a scowl. "Really, playboy? Does this normally work for you?"
I felt the headiness of my buzz still going strong. I pulled a chair out and motioned to her to sit down. "It only needs to work
right now
."
She tapped her fingers on the countertop. I couldn't tell if it was from nerves or annoyance, but it showed me that at least she was thinking about it. "Okay," she finally said. "But only if you mop floors when we are done eating. Oh, and fill up the dishwasher and run it."
I pretended to consider her offer when really my insides were screaming to be closer to her. "That seems like a fair deal," I replied.
Olivia took off her apron and hung it on the back of the door to the kitchen. She walked around the counter and sat down in the chair that I'd offered her. I walked around the table and took a seat, jiggling my leg slightly out of nerves. I felt like electricity was arcing in the air between us.
She picked up the cherry turnover and took an enormous bite of it, chewing it slowly. Flakes of caramelized sugar fell onto her chin. I had the intense urge to dive across the table and lick it off her face. Instead I reached behind me for the silver napkin holder filled with brown napkins and grabbed one, handing it to her.
"Thanks," she mumbled through the remaining bit of turnover still in her mouth. She reached for the napkin, grazing her hand against mine. Electricity crackled in the places where our skin was touching. Olivia jerked her hand away, but not quite quickly enough. "I didn't eat lunch," she explained while she stuffed her mouth with the rest of the turnover.
I waited until she was done and then motioned to my own turnover. "Do you want this?" I asked her. "I'm more than happy to sit here and watch you eat." I stared at her with as much intensity as I could muster. I saw the pink from earlier creep back into her cheeks. I pushed the plate toward her and she took it without a word. I leaned back in my chair, smiling. "You like me," I said cockily.
Olivia put her hand over her mouth to conceal her chewing. "Why would you say that?" she asked thickly through pastry layers. "I'm stuffing myself with food in front of you. That's not exactly a ringing endorsement that I want you to see me naked."
I felt my pants get tighter just at hearing her say the word. Then I twisted my mouth into a wry smile. "Interesting that you went right to
naked
.” I leaned back toward her. "Why'd you miss lunch?"
Olivia dabbed her chin with a napkin. "There was a table of over-privileged frat boys ordering coffee every five minutes. We're understaffed right now since it's the end of term."
I nodded in understanding. "That male privilege is a bitch," I said seriously.
Olivia laughed. "Yeah, you would know."
I shrugged. "I guess so." I leaned closer to her. "You're adorable when you eat."
Her eyes flashed at me and she leaned back. "Are you drunk?" she asked me. I couldn’t tell if she was upset or not.
I laughed. "I was drunk maybe thirty minutes ago. Now I'm delightfully tipsy."
Olivia furrowed her eyebrows. "Your breath smells like whiskey," she said, drinking deeply from the delicious black coffee.
"Not for long," I replied, downing half of the mug of coffee in one gulp. "If I were drunk, by the way, and I think you should know this about me, I would be naked and trying to dance with you."
Olivia burst out laughing. "Seriously?" she asked. "No. No way. I don't believe you."
"Tequila makes my clothes fall off," I said with a grin. "I can't help it. It's why Josh won't let me drink alone."
"He's a good friend," Olivia said, resting her arms on the table for the first time. I hoped this was a sign that she was feeling more relaxed.
I nodded. "The fucking best," I replied, leaning my own elbows on the table. I saw her eyes dart to my arms. "I've been working out more recently. Trying to not look so much like a tennis player. I'm aiming for like, Dwayne Johnson muscles."
Olivia laughed so hard at this she covered her eyes with her hands. The table shook. I could listen to her laugh like that all day. I was filled with an intense desire to keep making her laugh like that. It was all I ever wanted to hear for the rest of my life.
"You've got another forty pounds of muscle to go," she said after she had recovered somewhat. "So good luck with that goal."
I shrugged. "I usually get what I want."
She tilted her head and bit her lip. "Is that so?"
I looked around. "You let me in here, didn't you?"
"Momentary lapse of judgment after a long day being surrounded by needy guys," she explained. "Also it might have been the dimples."
I felt a surge of adrenaline at those words. She was into me. "Most women can't say no to these," I explained jokingly.
She squinted. "You don't get told no often, do you?"
My mind flashed earlier in the day to Diane yelling at me, and then to Olivia's recent comment about my privilege. I tapped my fingers on the table in no particular pattern or rhythm. "That might be true, now that you mention it. How'd you know that?"
Olivia pursed her lips. She looked like she was contemplating whether or not to say what was on her mind. "I heard that you ran off both Juliets for the play. Now, most actors who did that? Would be recast. But not Nick Wilder." She leaned back and stared at me with a smirk. "Why is that? Why are you so special? Because sitting here, I just don't see it. Yeah, you're adorable. You have dimples. But you're also a bit of a cocksure asshole. So I just don't understand why you have that kind of power."
The alcohol was starting to wear off now, the caffeine of the hastily consumed coffee cutting through the glow. Strangely, though, it seemed like the soberer I was, the more attractive Olivia became. It usually worked the opposite way for me. "Okay, I'll concede that. I definitely have to admit that I don't get told by women how awful I am. Strangely it's making me think that I'm in love with you."
Olivia laughed again. "Fuck off, Wilder," she said in response.
"Wait, let me correct that. I don't think it. I
know
that I'm in love with you. You just sealed the deal."
"By telling you to fuck off?" Olivia bit her lip again. She was still smiling. "You just met me. How could you possibly know that?"
"I have impeccable instincts. They've literally never failed me. Like earlier when I knew that you would let me in this shop."
"Those aren't instincts. That's just a lifetime of never being told no. It's habit," she scoffed.
"I'm sticking to my story, Liv," I said, feeling the nickname slip out of my lips unbidden by my brain. I cringed, waiting for her to chastise me for being so familiar with her.
"You're drunk," she replied, still not breaking eye contact with me. "I know I'm not the first woman you have fallen in love with while your brain has been bombed by the effects of Jell-O shooters. And I'm quite certain I will not be the last." She dusted her hands off on her milk-splattered jeans.
"I said I was only a
little
drunk. I do actually think that you will be the last woman I fall in love with. I have good instincts around these things. You might be surprised by them if you got to know me."
Olivia burst into laughter again. This time it was even more uncontrolled. Her breasts shook as she took deep breaths to calm herself.
"What's so funny?"
She managed to stop laughing long enough to tell me. "This!" She motioned around the room.
"The coffee shop is funny?"
She shook her head and pointed at me. "You.
You
being here. With me. In here. After this long day, at the end of four long years, that I am sitting here with god-on-campus Nicholas Wilder. And that he is telling me that he loves me.
That
is absurd. I keep waiting for Ashton Kutcher to pop out and tell me that I'm being punked.”
I smiled. "Believe it. It's happening."
Olivia had a look of wonder on her face. "You are the happiest drunk I've ever met," she said, shaking her head. "You're not trying to fondle me and you're not screaming at me. Well done."
I laughed darkly. "That's a low bar to jump but I guess I'll take it."
"Okay," she said leaning back in her chair and smiling at me surreptitiously. "Tell me why you are the man that I should be in love with."
I raised my eyebrows. "I was hoping you would ask that," I replied eagerly. "Do you have a piece of paper and a pencil?"
Olivia looked at me with a stoic face. A moment later she spoke. "Oh, you're serious? Um, there's a pad of paper in my apron over there." She motioned behind her. "And there should be pens in the cup on the counter."
I was back shortly with the pad of paper and a pencil firmly in hand. I jabbed my tongue out between my lips slightly while I thought. I put my arm around the piece of paper and turned slightly. I smiled at Olivia who was looking at me like I had lost it. "No peeking," I replied.
She rolled her eyes and laughed again. "Seriously? Are we in second grade?"
I bent down over the paper and started scribbling hastily. After a few minutes I was done. I sat up and stared at Olivia with a smile.
"Well? Are you going to read them out to me?" she asked, fidgeting slightly. She was enjoying this. That made me happy.
I shook my head and folded the paper in half. "You can read it later," I responded, tucking the piece of paper into the back pocket of my jeans.
Olivia slammed her hands down on the table in protest. "Why not now?"
"Ah, so you're really that invested in why you should love me?"
Her eyes twinkled at me. "I don't like suspense," she replied.
"I don't want my presence to influence your decision. I want you to decide that you love me based off of your own private reasoning." I stretched my arms over my head and yawned dramatically. "Besides that, I wouldn't want my dimples distracting you.” She blushed at that comment. “Okay. Where's the mop? We had a deal." I stood up and gathered the dishes and followed the path where Olivia had pointed wordlessly.
"Just tell me the first reason," she called after me.
"Fine!" I yelled back from the kitchen. I set the dishes in the dishwasher and saw that soap was already in the compartment, ready to run. I shut the door and turned it on, wiping my hands on a towel and wandering back out into the main part of the coffee shop, grabbing one of those quick mops with the disposable covers. Olivia had pulled her leg up onto the chair and wrapped her arms around it, pulling her knee close to her chest. She looked like a kid eager to hear a story. The performer in me loved having an audience like this. I bent down and started mopping. "You might notice how I am sitting here with you instead of passed out on my dormitory mattress right now."
Olivia rested her chin on her knee. "Which is proof of what?"
"My ability to be persuasive. It comes in handy. You never know when you might need someone to do some persuading on your behalf." I scrubbed at a spot of sticky, dried coffee.
"You could also put that as a negative. First of all, I think you are taking credit for the hard work that your wingman did in bringing you in here. He made you seem less threatening, which is the only reason I'm in here alone with you right now."