The Step Brother

Chapter Twenty Six

I made it back to San Diego just before one in the afternoon. I left early with the intention to catch my last two classes of the day, but now that I'm home, I just want to go home and take a nap before I have to face Harry. I know he's hurt or mad at me, and I anticipate at least a long discussion with him... Hopefully it won't turn into a fight.

I find myself pulling into the garage so I decide I really am in desperate need of a nap, and that school can wait. After getting Harry's text last night, I couldn't fall asleep, so a little extra sleep will be necessary before I see Harry, and before Anne's birthday dinner tonight. Ugh, I almost forgot about that.

Once I get inside, I head straight to my room. If there's one thing I love about my dad and Anne working so much, is that they're hardly home, so I won't get caught being here while I'm supposed to be at school.

I drop my bag on the floor and fall right on the bed. I hadn't realized how exhausted I really was until I almost immediately began to drift off. God, this bed is comfy.

Just as I'm floating on the edge of consciousness, I hear a door slam, and something hit the hardwood floors downstairs. I sit straight up as the noise startles me, and begin to panic at the thought that my dad or Anne is home. I begin to come up with excuses for why I'm not at school when I hear the familiar voice curse loudly in the foyer.

Harry.

I jump out of bed and go follow his voice to see Harry sitting on the bottom step grasping his foot and cursing to himself. I look over to the table next to the front door and see the table shifted and the vase that sat atop it on the floor in pieces.

"Harry?" I whisper when he doesn't hear me come down. "Are you hurt?"

He doesn't look at me when he responds, "Not physically." His voice is cold. Cold enough to send a shiver through my body.

I deserved that one.

"What happened?"

"I ran into that stupid fucking table and stubbed my fucking toe. But it's about time that fucking vase went. It's hideous." Harry slurs.

"Have you been drinking?"

"You're a smart girl, baby."

Why is he drinking on a Monday afternoon?!

I don't know what to do or say to him. He's obviously mad at me, but I don't understand why he feels the need to get drunk? I have no clue what to tell him in order to apologize, and I know that now I'll have to wait until he sobers up before we have an honest conversation.

"I missed you." I whisper and sit next to him on the bottom step. "Is your foot okay?"

"It's fine." Harry scoffs, still refusing to look at me.

"Why aren't you at school? And who were you drinking with?"

"Wouldn't you like to know? I should probably just lie to you about where I was because that's what you did to me."

Okay, I really need to wait until he's sober to start asking questions.

I sigh. "Will you come take a nap with me? I just got home from Cassidy's and I'm exhausted."

"Where does your dad keep his liquor?"

I move to kneel in front of Harry. I can't stand that he won't even look at me. "Harry, you don't need any more alcohol. Come to bed with me," I plead. "Please, baby?" I lean up on my heels and press my lips to the skin of his neck.

I know using sex to persuade him is a bad idea, especially when he's drunk and angry, but I'm thinking that's the only way I'm going to get him upstairs.