Bully stepbrother

43. Raspberry

MADISON

I woke up the next morning feeling dreadful.

For one, my entire body seemed uncooperative, and I couldn't even move my feet off the bed. Was every ounce of my misery concentrated on my body, or were my 206 bones refusing to support me?

As for two, despite my efforts to stay awake last night, concerned about what Caden might be up to at that late hour, I dozed off due to the prescribed painkillers I took.

It's just one more chaotic situation among the many predicaments I'm navigating. You see, I know Caden, and I know he despises me, but he also detests those who dislike me.

That's the perplexing part. He appears to scorn both my admirers and detractors. Where does he truly stand?

"Don't think for a second he's on your side, defending you. Girl, he might be chasing pleasure with perfectly figured women, silly," my subconscious delivered a harsh thought, and a frown crept over my face.

Yes, it was foolish of me. I'm sure he wanted to escape the house after everything with Dad. And we both know Caden's typical way of seeking comfort.

Not that he shouldn't, it's his way of life, and he has every right to it; no one owns him. But I can't shake this taste of bitterness in my throat, and my heart races as if it might explode.

Trying to regain control, I attempted to focus on the third thought. It reminded me I should be getting ready for school, but the first and second issues hindered my motivation.

And if there's anything that could truly crush me, it's missing a day of school. I pledged to study here, not lie in bed while classes went on. I'm a mess.

"First, help yourself before thinking about academic matters, girl," my inner voice advised with an edgy tone.

I think she's right. It's the same advice I'd give anyone in my situation. But I've worked diligently to get to this point, and I don't want lower grades haunting me in college.

*Door screeching*

"Good morning," a deep, luxurious voice greeted me, causing my body to react.

He's home? He wasn't out pursuing pleasure with perfectly figured women, as my subconscious had insinuated.

"You're home?" I muttered, thoroughly surprised.

Wide-eyed and with an open mouth, I watched the half-naked figure approach my bed, carrying a wooden tray laden with pancakes, fruit, and homemade creamy coffee. It was yet another unusual morning.

He settled shirtless across from me, one leg down and the other folded on the bed, placing the tray between us. I sternly told my eyes not to wander, but his gaze was enough to enthrall me.

He leaned on one hand, flexing certain muscles, and I mentally reminded myself not to look.

"Of course, where would I be?" He fakes a mystifying reaction, rising a single brow at me until his sensuous curvy lips began tugging by the end and spread into a charming smile.

"You..." My heart was indeed beating abnormally, and my eyes wouldn't detach from his lips. Fuck me. I wish he would just snatch my lips in his and take me right here on my bed, and afterward, I can worry about the consequences.

"Hmm, you left last night," I finally managed to say.

"I went shopping for food ingredients, but most shops were closed. We'll have to get takeout for lunch," he explained, his tongue playing with his words just as it did with the fork the other day.

"Mad?" He called my attention, and I shifted my gaze to meet his. He had a mischievous smile, appearing slightly younger than his age.

"Uhm, I don't doubt it," I moaned as I took a sip of the warm coffee.