Free Fade Back (A Stepbrother Romance Novella) by Stephanie Brother

end.
    “When did you know, Becka? Before our date? Or only when you found those photos on my phone?”
    “What? You’re crazy. I didn’t recognize you at all. How many years has it been? Plus, you look completely different now, and so do I. I only realized it when I saw those pictures on your phone. And I wanted to talk to you about it, I did. I was just too shocked. I didn’t think our parents would put up this much fight against this.”
    "No. No, you couldn’t predict their reaction. Look, I think maybe we should just take a second and take stock, you know? I’m as confused as you are, but… I think we should listen to our folks. We’re practically siblings, Becka.” She felt her heart squeeze so tight she almost passed out. “I want to finish your tattoo, too. And don't worry, I'm an adult and a professional. It will be exactly what you paid for. I finish the things I start. Set up a time when you've calmed down a bit.” And he hung up.
    Becka’s screen went blank, damn phone not even giving her the comfort of a dial tone to cling to. She was left in silence, leaning against the kitchen island bench, holding herself in her own shaking arms, finding little comfort in the slack grip. She'd always wondered what lay beyond this life she'd enjoyed up until now, and she'd finally glimpsed it for herself. She wanted it back. She wanted Fitz back and while she didn't know how she was going to do it, she knew she was going to give it everything she could to make things work with the low-voiced drifter who saw life in such bright colors and who burned with a fire that warmed Becka’s very soul. Even if he was her long lost stepbrother. And even if everyone in the world seemed to think that their being together was a terrible idea.
    She had to find a way to get him back, somehow...

Chapter Thirteen
    T hree long weeks passed before Becka could handle the thought of facing Fitz again, and as the days stretched on interminably, she barely recognized herself. 
    The old Becka, the one from before she ran into Fitz and got a glimpse of what love could be, would have gone out every day and night until she'd forgotten that guy's face. She'd have danced and strutted and preened in the wide mirrors of every club in town, rub up against strangers and for all intents and purposes used her dismay as fuel for getting over him. A break could, under the right conditions, be the greatest fun a gorgeous young thing like Becka could have.
    But not this time.
    Her apartment was pristine at first. The adrenaline from her confrontations with her father, first via that phone call and later via an in person conversation at their scheduled brunch, and that brief but heartbreaking talk with Fitz, drove her to herculean efforts of hygiene. She cleaned everything she could get her hands on, and when the whole house shone and gleamed like an Ikea catalogue photo shoot, she sat down, and the anxiety, the apprehension, and misery immediately started lapping at her feet. That was when the cleaning stopped, and Becka became mired in her own sloppy unhappiness. 
    She didn't dare call Jerome or Mick, despite her friends leaving one rambling message after another, at first oblivious to Becka’s pain and then probing and then outraged at the radio silence. While she couldn't absorb her friends’ wise words of reassurance before hurricane Fitz tore apart her life, she was all too aware of them now.
    Jerome would help you, he's your friend , she kept telling herself. Mick too . But despite this perfectly reasonable argument, Becka froze when she picked up the phone. She knew Jerome would immediately offer his services to relieve any physical tension, whether that meant punching someone or help her clean her place once again. Mick would be all cerebral and pick apart her predicament till there was nothing to pick apart. But the act of swallowing her internal turmoil and staying strong enough to endure her friends’ advice was too much for her battered