Wanting My Step Brother

[1]

Blake

No one messes with my sleep. Period. 

That shit doesn't come as easy to me as it does to everyone else. It takes me two freaking hours, a wrestling match with my sheets, seven bazillion sleeping positions, and freaking sacrifice to the gods. Promising whatever entity that I would give up chocolate for good. 

I never did it though. Chocolate is my damn kryptonite. 

But apparently, the freaking humid, summer heat did not get the memo. I was tossing and turning in my bed, grumbling about it being too damn hot.

 I tried sleeping without my covers, but then I became paranoid about evil demon babies snatching my legs. I tried sleeping under the covers, but it was like a freaking oven under there. 

It didn't work. Nothing worked. Everything was awful. 

Giving up on my battle with the heat, I turned on my lamp and lay on my back. I considered turning on my fan, but it's too loud and I'd wake up the beast that is my mother.

 I could also open the windows, but I so did not want to wake up puréed in insects and bites. 

Staring at my ceiling, I tried to make sense of the inner storm inside my head. I came to bed about four hours ago, and haven't haven't got an ounce of shut-eye. 

Even in a thin grey tank top and super cute pineapple pyjama shorts, I was still at boiling temperature. 

I turned my head, my eyes flicking to the illuminated clock on my nightstand. 2:45 the bright red letters said. 

This was usually the time I got turnt, but school was tomorrow, and I don't think my parents would be as lenient if they found my crashed out on the kitchen floor, covered in cookie crumbs, like last time. Long story. 

I sat up with a huff, pulling my tangled ash-brown waves into a high ponytail to keep it off the back of my neck. I slid off the edge of the bed, and tiptoed across the hardwood floors, and out of my room.

 I crept down the stairs ninja-style. Praying that I don't trip in the darkness and gracefully tumble down the rest of the steps. 

The cold floors as I reached the bottom was pure bliss on my feet. Smiling, I slithered through the open plan of the the downstairs area, and towards the kitchen.

 I needed water, so I could freaking drench myself in it. 

Hopefully I'll be able to sleep after this. And maybe a few midnight snacks. 

Turning through the doorway into the kitchen, I ran into a hard wall. Wouldn't be the first time, I am the most clumsiest piece of shit out. 

I stumbled backwards, almost slipping if not for the hands the protruded from wall catching my fall. After I gained my balance, I straightened. 

It wasn't a wall after all, it was a rather hard and shirtless chest. 

Well good morning to you too, Alex. 

I looked up, meeting icy blue eyes shining in the golden kitchen light. Dang, I was hoping mom had forgotten to turn it off, and not that someone was in there, especially Alex. That just ruined my whole plan. 

After a few awkward and heated moments of basically eyeball raping each other, we stood back as if we'd both been burnt my contact. 

"Midnight snack?" Alex asked awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck. 

Don't you dare look at his bulging muscle Blake. Don't you dare. 

Oh god, you're doing it. You're officially a creep. A creepy-creep-creep. Good job. 

My mouth ran dry at the sight of his large biceps contracting as he bent his arm. Making his pecs tense, resulting in his rock hard abs glaring right into my eyes. 

God I'd love to run my fingers and tongue of every bump of his. 

No. Repent these dirty thoughts from your brain, Blake. 

"What type of question is that?" I snort, shuffling past him and trying not to make contact with him, "Of course I'm getting a midnight snack." 

Making it past him, I turned, and darted towards the doubled-door fridge. 

"Oh right, the first ever thing you said to me was 'I'm only here for the food'."Alex smirked, leaning on the door frame. I internally rolled my eyes, does this guy ever actually wear a shirt? 

"You know me so well," I smirked, bending down and rummaging through the multiple packets of food. Smiling in victory, I grabbed the last pudding cup I had hid in the back of the fridge. 

I stood up, turning back around and for a split second, glanced at Alex's blue eyes. They weren't looking at mine, but rather at my lower end, or where it use to be when I bent over. Stupid short-shorts. 

Alex cleared his throat and averted his gaze, "Um-Uh-Well, goodnight, Blake." 

"Oh, yeah, goodnight." I awkwardly wave, wanting to kick myself in the freaking face right afterwards. I waited before he was fully gone, before I grabbed the kitchen counter for support. Being around him was intoxicating, and addicting. 

I grabbed a glass and quickly filled it up with icy cold water. Chugging it back, I exhaled and dropped the cup into the sink. I flicked off the light, and raced up the stairs like a little kid afraid of the dark. 

Sprinting past Alex's room, which was right next to mine,  I shut my door and collapsed on my bed. 

I was fifteen when my first fuzzy feelings for Alex bloomed. It was a hot summer's day, and we were swimming in the pool outside.

 I'd never had a problem with seeing him shirtless before, but that day, something changed.I suddenly felt very self-conscious about my body. 

Those feelings increased into something more, something more than just a petty crush. They were deep desires, desires that only he could fulfil. 

No one can ever know of my feelings. And no one ever will. 

Because what would Alexander Grey, the hottest star footballer in town, want with me, a sarcastic and lazy-ass teenager girl?

Nothing. 

a/n

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