Free Mockingbird (A Stepbrother Romance) by Abigail Graham Page A

concerned voices. Mom walks into the sitting room with her new boyfriend, and they contemplate the drunken girl with the buffalo sauce smeared on her lips currently lying on the one hundred and ten year old antique couch, and then they both look at us.
    Still sitting in Apollo's lap, I smile weakly. "Uh, hi, Mom."
    "Hi, Dad," Apollo says.
    Wait, what?

Chapter 5: Apollo
    Well, this is a problem.
    I remember this happening when I was in ninth grade. I had an erection and I had to stand up for some reason. That was merely embarrassing, this is a little different. This isn't one of those involuntary teenage boners. I have a raging hard-on from Diana sitting on my lap. I very slowly move my hand down her side, away from her breast, as our parents stare at us. When she moves on top of me to swing her legs around and stand up, it's agony. I want her right now, bent over the table, and I don't care who sees. It takes everything I've got not to pull her back into my lap. As she stands up I cough and try to figure out what the hell I'm going to do. I could try a reach-and-tuck while they're all distracted. As I stand up, I poke Diana right in the butt. She flinches and glances over her shoulder at me.
    "So," she says. "Hi."
    "This is awkward," I mutter.
    Her mother speaks in clipped tones. "Diana. Upstairs.   Now."
    I turn around and smooth back my hair with one hand, and tuck myself up with the other. It'll have to do. Dear God, please don't let Diana's mother look at my crotch.
    "What are you doing here?" Dad asks.
    "It's a long story…"
    He sighs and folds his arms over his chest. I can't tell if he's acting or not. He may genuinely be mad or he may expect me to play along. Either way the safest option is to act naturally.
    "I ran into Diana at the bookstore. Her friend," I nod towards the passed out goth on the couch, "was at this party at this kid Lucas' house. We went to get her," I consciously leave out the bit of tossing Lucas and his friends around, "and ended up eating some take-out."
    "You neglected to mention the part where you groped my daughter," Diana's mother (Carol, right?) chimes in, scowling at me.
    "I, uh, didn't know she was your daughter…"
    I must have carried the lie off well enough. She looks stern until she catches a hint of a smile on my father's face, and a little smirk cracks on hers. She is actually pretty, Diana's mom, but doesn't hold a candle to her daughter. I shift on my feet, stick my hands in my pockets and look apologetic and sheepish.
    "Have you been drinking?"
    "No. She has," I nod out to the living room. "We didn't attend the party. We just went to get her."
    Carol scowls at me. "How old are you?"
    "Twenty."
    "My daughter is eighteen years old, young man."
    "Uh, good?"
    Her scowl turns into a sneer, and Dad grabs her arm.
    "It's fine, hon. Just a… misunderstanding. I'm sure it won't be a problem in the future, will it?"
    I look at him and then look at her and nod. For some reason I feel genuinely sheepish about this.
    My head is still swimming. The memory of the taste of her lips, the soft warmth of her body cradled in my arms, the way she kissed me harder and writhed in my lap when I put my hand on her breast. I was this close to getting my hand in her underwear before they walked in. Good think I didn't. That would have been a sight to see, I'm sure.
    "We should be going," Dad says.
    He leans down and kisses her.
    I turn away. I mean, really.
    "Are we on for Friday?"
    "Of course," she smiles warmly at him. "I'll have a talk with Diana about this." Her mouth twists down. "Then we need to sober up her friend."
    Dad nods and I rush to his side, and we're out the door and through the garage to the waiting car. He gets in the driver's seat and I can feel his glare when I sit down and pull my door closed.
    "Are you getting too close to this?"
    "Um. No."
    He scowls at me. "Lucas, I told you to track her down and flirt with her a little to keep our options open, not follow her home and feel her