Free The Other Brother Part 2: Taboo: Stepbrother Billionaire Romance by Lauren Hawkeye, Tawny Stokes Page B

BEFORE you broke up with me. Why on earth would I be mad about that?”
    He shook his head and ran a hand through his mop of dark hair. “This is exactly why this ain’t working.”
    I raised my eyebrow and tilted my head to say “Go on motherfucker tell me what’s wrong with me. I know you want to.”
    “You’re so damn controlling all the time. And bossy. And I can’t do anything without asking for permission.”
    “You wanted permission to fuck some other chick?”
    “No!” He threw up his hands. “Jesus, you’re so damn irritating.”
    “And you’re an asshole.”
    “Well whatever.” He took a few steps away. “We’re done. Your shit is in a box on my porch. Collect it today or it’s going in the garbage.” He walked back to his friends, who were smirking quite openly.
    “I’m surprised you had the stones to even do this in person.”
    “I told him to just text you,” Rico said. “Since I thought that’s all you’re worth.”
    I flipped him the middle finger. “Fuck you Rico. Good thing I didn’t tell him about all the secret texts you were sending me trying to hook up behind his back.”
    Derek gave Rico a sidelong look as they walked away. I knew it wouldn’t amount to much. In his mind, it would be my fault about Rico. That I had somehow encouraged him just by being a girl.
    I turned around so I didn’t have to watch him walk away from me. The tears were welling in my eyes, but I really didn’t want to let them go here in public with ten strangers watching with avid interest.
    I adjusted my purse strap on my shoulder, then instead of going into the school I started back the way I’d came. There was no point in going to class today. I wouldn’t have been able to concentrate anyway. So I figured a good long cry and forty minutes on the elliptical was in order. I liked to sweat when I was upset. I was a size 2 because I got upset a lot. Some girls would be jealous of me because of my figure, but they had no clue how much I suffered emotionally for it. Dahlia and Ivy didn’t really know either. I had always put on a carefree façade, especially when it came to guys, but deep down I had battle scars all over my heart and soul.
    I always picked the wrong ones. Guys who only wanted to know my outsides and not my insides. Any time I ever even hinted that I might be more than my C cup and pouty pink lips, guys got spooked and looked for a way to break up with me. And that way usually involved another girl. It was so typical.
    When I returned to my apartment near campus I immediately went into my bedroom. I grabbed an old plastic bag I sometimes used for garbage and opened my closet door. I tore an old chambray shirt from a hanger and shoved it into the bag. It was one of Derek’s. I slept in it sometimes because it had smelled like him, a combination of CK One and man.
    Turning, I snatched up the stick of deodorant on my dresser and the spearmint chapstick beside it and tossed both in the bag. Then I made my way to the bathroom and tossed in the razor I had bought him and the toothbrush. I was about to leave when I stopped and faced the toilet.
    Angry tears were rolling down my cheeks now. I didn’t want to shed them over him but sometimes a girl just has to have some release. And some pay back.
    I reached into the bag and took out the toothbrush. I opened the toilet lid and peered into the bowl. The water wasn’t dirty, I used an automatic cleaner inside the tank, but I hadn’t scrubbed the inside of the bowl in a week or so. Until now.
    I crouched and vigorously rubbed the bristles of the toothbrush inside the bowl. I dipped it in the water and scrubbed the stained porcelain. It was stained when I moved in, but still it made me feel better to do it. I scrubbed and scrubbed until my arm was sore and the tears on my cheeks had dried. Satisfied, I straightened then tossed the dirty wet toothbrush into the bag.
    In the living room I set the plastic bag on the table and plopped down onto the