Free Stepbrother Fallen by Aya Fukunishi Page B

at his watch. "OK, I'm going back to bed. I like to
sleep in on a Sunday. If any more cops come calling, please ask
them to come back after lunch."
     
    Rafe turns towards the stairs. As soon as mom and dad can't
see his face he gives me the briefest of smiles. It's just a quick
flash, but to me it feels like I'm bathing in the warmth of the
sun. This is the first real smile I've ever seen cross his face. Not a smirk,
or a grin, but a smile. And it's all for me.
     
     

 
     
Back in the safety of my room I fall onto
the bed and wait for my heart to stop pounding. I've only been
awake five minutes, and since opening my eyes I've lied to a cop's
face and come a breath away from kissing my stepbrother. As Sunday
mornings go, this is a bit of a big one.
     
Strangely, though, it isn't the thought of
the cop that's making my heart thump in my chest. On any other day
I'd be a sack of nerves if I had to so much as ask a cop for
directions, but lying to Officer McIntyre is, right now, something
that hovers at the back of my mind.
     
Was Rafe about to kiss me?
     
I don't know what to make of it at all.
Rafe must have assumed he'd be leaving in the back of a squad car.
Had that little moment between us just been one last little fucked
up game he was trying to play with me, or did he really want
me?
     
I jump at a sudden knock on the door, and
only just have time to make sure I'm covered up before it cracks
open.
     
"Hey," Rafe pokes his head between the gap.
"You hungry?"
     
"Huh?" That was the last question I was
expecting to hear from him.
     
"Hungry? You know, for food? Bacon, eggs,
pancakes. All that good shit. I think I owe you a breakfast after
that little Oscar-worthy performance downstairs."
     
I sit up and look for something clean in
the mess of clothes on the floor. "Uh, sure, I could eat."
     
Rafe smiles. "Great. I'll pay, you drive. I
think your mom might call in the state troopers if I borrow her
car."
     
I shrug off my nightgown, grab a dress
slung over the edge of my bed and quickly pull it up my body. I
notice that Rafe has made no attempt to avert his eyes as I change,
and I feel a little guilty thrill rush through my body at the
thought of him watching me.
     
"Ummm, can you zip me up?" I walk over to
the door and turn around to allow Rafe to find the zipper that runs
up my back. I could easily have reached it myself, but... well, I
don't want to.
     
"God, I must look a mess right now. I
haven't even brushed my hair."
     
Rafe's hand lingers at the nape of my neck
as he tugs up the zipper. "Shut up, you don't look a mess at all,
and you know it." I can't see him, but I can tell he said it with a
smile. "You always look hot."
     
    Jesus . The safest thing I could do now would be to fake a
hangover, close the door and lock it until it's time to cash my
social security check.
     
Instead I turn around, flash Rafe a shy
smile and slide past him into the hallway. As I walk down the
stairs I make sure to stay ahead of him so he can't see my
grin.
     
     

 
     
Frank's is a cozy little diner about a mile
from the house, just off the highway and popular with truck drivers
heading for the north. I eat there once a month and never more,
because the menu seems specially designed to ensure that the
customers are too groggy to ever stand up again once they slide
into a booth. Enormous burgers, towering stacks of pancakes and a
Death by Chocolate cake that may have actually sent a few diners to
an early grave are the order of the day.
     
Frank's is also a popular 'recovery' venue.
It's the only place within ten miles that opens before 9AM on a
Sunday, so within minutes of the door opening at 6AM the place is
usually pretty full of bleary-eyed party-goers who haven't quite
managed to make it home before breakfast. I have no experience of
this personally, but Penny assures me that breakfast at Frank's is
the perfect way to dull the embarrassment of the walk of
shame.
     
This particular morning the diner is as
quiet as