Series: Peach State Stepbros Series by Riley Hart
Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 92311 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 462(@200wpm)___ 369(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92311 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 462(@200wpm)___ 369(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
He nods. “Okay. I can respect that. Are we allowed to talk about the auction?”
“It’s next Friday at eight thirty. You have to be there at six to practice and get all the info. It’s pretty low-key. I gave Dixon your email address.” For whatever reason, my skin feels too tight and prickly. I brush my hand over my arms as if that will change anything.
“Sounds good.”
I feel him watch me while I eat, but I try not to make eye contact again. The air in the car shifts in a way I can’t explain. Goddamn Troy. What is it about him that gets me all…everything.
“So, remember that time you thought I couldn’t ace my test and I did?” he asks playfully, breaking the silence, and like it seems to happen so easily around him, I let another laugh free.
“I’m gonna get you back, lil stepbro. Just you wait and see.”
He looks at me, his brown eyes somehow darker and more intense. “I’m counting on it.”
I shift in my seat, willing myself not to let the innuendo turn me on. I lose.
We stay on safe topics after that. He asks about my classes, and I do the same. We’ve reached a truce, at least for today.
Almost as soon as we finish eating, my cell buzzes with a text from Brenner: Wanna hang?
I don’t. I mean, no offense to him. He’s my boy, and though we give each other a lot of shit, I like spending time with him, but part of me wants to sit right here and see where this conversation with Troy will go. On the other hand, I’m also a prickly bastard who doesn’t want it to get too deep, and I have a feeling it could. I text Brenner that I’ll be home in fifteen, then give Troy my attention again.
“You ready? I’m gonna chill with Brenner and Taylor.” They’re always together, so I assume if I’m getting a text from B, Taylor is with him.
“Sure.”
Is it me, or does Troy look disappointed?
He drives me home, and of course Brenner is walking up as we arrive. He doesn’t go to my window, instead going to Troy’s. I try not to grumble.
“You gonna come in and chill with us?” Brenner asks him. “Taylor’s on his way.”
“No,” I snap before Troy can reply. I know that tone—it’s Brenner’s I’m gonna try and get in your pants voice. I don’t give a shit whom he fucks, except it’s not going to be Troy.
“Aw, come on, Atlas. I think Troy wants to hang out with me. Don’t you?”
Troy is watching me, and I see the hurt in his eyes, see that he thinks I said no because I don’t want to be around him. That should be the reason I’d rather he didn’t come inside.
When I look away, he turns to Brenner.
“Nah, I’m good. I have other stuff to do.”
Don’t ask him what, don’t ask him what, don’t ask him what.
“I’ll text you later,” I say, not wanting to be a total dick, but also annoyed at myself for being jealous of other guys wanting Troy.
This is already getting difficult, and I have a feeling we’re just going to keep getting more and more entwined.
17
Troy
Over the next week, Atlas and I text and DM each other. We’re chattier than we were before he blew me, but it’s all the same fun ragging on each other that I enjoy:
Me: I noticed you liking shirtless pics of me on Insta. Didn’t even think you liked pics.
Atlas: Are you going through it to see which photos I liked?
Me: Reverse-stalking my stalker.
The Wednesday before the auction, Mom and Glen are in town for a fundraiser, so they meet us at a restaurant for lunch. Everything’s business as usual. Mom gives us the headlines of office drama—which I’m sure she and Glen had dominated back in the day when word got around that the marketing director was getting a little too chummy with the company’s married CFO. Glen asks about Alpha Theta Mu, so I tell him about our last meet-up to finalize plans for Greek Week. And when the subject changes to school, I tell them how much better I’m feeling about Thermo since studying with Ash, and Atlas chimes in with, “Actually, I’m also largely responsible for Troy acing that Thermo test.”
“Really?” Mom asks. “Did you help him study?” She frowns, likely realizing that can’t be right.
“We had a little wager,” Atlas says. “I think it motivated him.”
Ass. And when the lunch comes to an end, I make sure to let him know:
Me: That mouth is gonna get you into trouble.
Atlas: My mouth has been very good to you.
Atlas: Probably why you can’t stop thinking about it.
Me: Can’t stop thinking about your holes in general, really.
Why did I fucking say that?
But I know the answer: because it’s true.