Being alone in the house with Dylan was worse than being alone with Larry. Normally, my stepfather ignored me or made snide comments about my appearance. He really hated the decaled flowers on my Converse. Usually, he ignored me though while Dylan tended to stare.
Even when he wasn’t staring, I could feel him thinking about me. For whatever reason, Dylan became fixated on me after a camping trip one summer when I was eighteen and he was twenty two. Usually guys were obsessed with Raven, the blonde haired, blue eyed, countrified Barbie.
Dylan hated Raven though. Never had a single use for her. I think it was because she smacked him upside the head a lot. Of course, Raven only did that because she thought he was a fucking loser. Her words, not mine. While I didn’t think Dylan was a loser, I did think he was creepy as hell.
My stepbrother could have gotten a girlfriend. A pretty one too and he’d dated off and on, but never serious. Not since the camping trip when he fixated on me. I still didn’t know why especially since I never filled out my bikini, burned easy, and was constantly sneezing from the Maple pollen. There was nothing sexy about me that weekend.
Maybe Larry told Dylan to obsess over me. Whenever his dad ordered him to do something, he obeyed. I suspected this was why Dylan still lived at home. At twenty two, he owned a small construction business and had a contract to work on the local schools. He had plenty of money to move out, but Larry wanted him living at the house. For whatever reason, the asshole liked having Dylan under his thumb. Well, I guessed the reason was because Larry was an asshole and he liked having people under his thumb.
Half of Larry’s family worked for him at the dealership. Even his thug brother Glenn who wasn’t good at anything besides scaring people with his ugly mug. The bastard was more misogynistic than Larry and referred to Raven in casual conversation as the cocktease.
When we arrived home after Dylan picked me up from school, I went straight to my room and studied. As boring as the reading was, I preferred it to watching Dylan brood. He had a face for sulking too. Handsome, yet pouty like he was still an angsty teenage boy mad at his parents, authority, and the world as a whole.
I felt Dylan’s dark eyes on me even before hearing him at the door. Glancing towards him, I smiled then looked away quickly.
“That guy isn’t any good for you,” he muttered.
“Who?”
“You know who.”
“Aaron is nice, but I need to finish school.”
“Uh-huh,” he said, entering the room and leaning against my small dresser. “How were you going to pay to have your tattoo fixed? With blowjobs?”
Frowning at him now, I sighed. “What do you want?”
“I’ll pay to have the stupid butterfly get her wings.”
“What makes you think it’s a her?”
“It’s a pink fucking worm. Logic said it was a chick.”
“I don’t want your help.”
“Why? I was the one who stopped the fuck from finishing your tat.”
“Why are you cussing so much?”
“You’re pissing me off.”
“I haven’t done anything.”
“You know,” Dylan said, walking closer and scratching at his short Mohawk, “I thought maybe you didn’t like guys. Not that you were a lesbian or anything. Just that you might be a late bloomer.”
“Is that a crack about my boobs?” I said, trying to change the subject.
“You’re beautiful and I want you.”
Swallowing hard, I sighed again and held my heavy book in front of me. “I see you as a brother.”
Dylan’s dark eyes raged immediately. “I’m not your fucking brother! I met you as a teenager! You aren’t my sister!”
Standing up so better to defend myself, I also figured running was an option. His expression softer now, Dylan hovered over me.
“You don’t need that loser,” Dylan said, his voice calm. “You need someone who knows you. Someone who understands you.”
“You thought I didn’t like guys. I don’t know how well you think you know me.”
Dylan jaw clenched. “You’re mocking me? I pick you up and drive you around every day like your little bitch and you’re going to treat me like shit now?”
“Having you drive me wasn’t my idea. That was Larry. I said I would take the bus or bum rides.”
“Better than spending time with me.”
“Dylan, I don’t know what you want.”
“I told you what I want.”
“Well, that’s never going to happen.”
Dylan grabbed my jaw and forced my head up so he could kiss me. I nailed him in the crotch with the book immediately. Jumping back, he lifted his hand to hit me and I stared in horror. The blow never came though.
“What the fuck?” he said, adjusting his jeans. “What’s wrong with you?”
“Me? You’re the one grabbing me.”
“I wasn’t going to hit you.”
“Yes, you were,” I said, holding the book in both hands and ready to pound him if he got close again.
“You hurt me. It was a reflex to fight back.”
“Well, sorry about your balls, but you hurt me and it was a reflex.”
Dylan smiled tightly. “That guy is a piece of shit.”
“You don’t know him.”
“Neither do you.”