Free Bend (A Stepbrother Romance) by Ellen Callahan Page A

who’s the villain?” Zach asked, wiggling his eyebrows like this whole thing was some endlessly amusing conspiracy.
    “Huh?”
    “Every story has its villain. I know it isn’t you, and we can’t make it Keir. So. Your mom? She a gold-digger? Man-eater? Or his dad, is he a womanizer? Will he break her heart before or after the pre-nup conditions expire?”
    “Holy shit,” I said under my breath.
    “It’s a vicious business, sweetheart.” He shrugged. “Take comfort in the fact that no one will care a week after they read about it.”
    Some comfort . Keir really was going to kill me—him and his father. Talking to Zach was a mistake. Not talking to him? I could have ended up fired.
    “Don’t look so grim,” he said, reaching out to squeeze my hand. “It’s impossible not to make a few enemies in this business. But I’ve got your back!”
    I shook my head. “I didn’t want Keir to be my enemy,” I said.
    “Yeah. I don’t blame you. Dude’s hot as fuck. Tell me, was he good?”
    “Zach!” I laughed, scandalized. But it was impossible to stay mad at his cherubic face. “I can’t tell you that!”
    “Okay, okay,” He held up his palms in a gesture of defeat. “This is enough info to get me started. Score me a chat with Mom or Dad, though, and I’ll be your best friend forever.” He lifted his coffee cup in a mock salute. “And I’m sure there’d be a promotion in store for you.”
    I sighed. It wasn’t the most exciting prospect. But it would be nice to be able to afford to jettison one or both roommates. “I’ll see what I can do.”
     

CHAPTER EIGHT
    Keir
     
    Women .
    I curled my lip and sipped my drink, alone at the airport bar. I was due to hop on a quick flight to Vegas for a concert the next night, but that was the last thing on my mind.
    I twirled my phone on the smooth wooden surface. I was still ignoring calls from my father. Sloane had already torn me a new asshole and I didn’t need a third.
    Fuck. My stepsister. I fucked my stepsister. It was almost comical.
    It wasn’t as if we’d grown up together. Hell, we were two consenting strangers enjoying a one-night stand. But holy shit, were the papers and the blogs having a field day with it.
    I didn’t even care about that. There was no such thing as bad publicity, though Sloane seemed to disagree. No, what I cared about was my idiot father marrying another woman who would sink her greedy claws into his heart and his bank account. And this one had a scheming daughter, who’d sunk her own talons into me. I was supposed to believe that she didn’t know what her own mother had been up to? I wasn’t buying it. It was too convenient.
    I sipped my whiskey, but it did nothing to soothe the anxiety that churned my stomach and vibrated though my veins. What was their endgame, here? Money? Fame? Were they hoping to score a fucking reality show, or something? That would be rich. I could just imagine the puns that would emerge. The Brady Bunch jokes, the fucking Lannister jokes—they’d never end.
    I couldn’t sit there any longer. If I blew off rehearsal and the sound check, I could arrive at the venue as late as eight and still start the show on time. Flying was stupid; I could make the drive back to LA in under four hours. That gave me plenty of time to show up at home and meet Dad’s newest woman and size her up.
    It would be better than stewing. My band would appreciate it, too. I drove them too hard. Not having me around for a few hours would be like a vacation. The sound guys would be pissed but they would figure it out.
    Fuck it.
    I leapt from my stool, dropped some cash on the bar, and headed straight for the rental car counters. A dumb move, running through the public areas of the airport without a security team, but I wasn’t thinking completely clearly.
    How could I? Betrayed by the woman who I’d thought was actually different. Genuine. Real. I was lucky I wasn’t comatose on the barroom floor.
    I’d figure out what