Stepping Over the Line: A Stepbrother Novel (Shamed) Read Free

second-story walk-up to say goodbye to the magnolia I’d woken up to almost every morning I’d been at Duke.
    The test was probably done, but I couldn’t look. Not yet.
    A baby at this stage of my medical career was unthinkable. Even worse, if my lack of menses, constant nausea and aching boobs did turn out to be a zygote, the paternity was up for grabs. Odds were, the baby would be Chad’s. Had to be. Because if it turned out to be Garrett’s, I wasn’t sure I’d survive the disgrace.
    Those brief, torrid minutes with him in the pro shop had been the culmination of over a decade’s yearning, lusting, and self-loathing. How could I be attracted to my brother? It was sick. Sure, Garrett wasn’t my real brother—we weren’t in any way blood-related—but society had forged the connection that long-ago defined our relationship’s acceptable boundaries, and screwing in the golf club’s pro shop definitely crossed a line. A hauntingly beautiful line composed of a hundred tightly-woven love sonnets tucked deep in my secret heart. I loved Garrett. Had always loved Garrett. But in much the same way I’d always adored Prince William or Matthew McConaughey, common sense told me my stepbrother could no more be mine than a member of either Great Britain’s or Hollywood’s royalty could.
    The apartment’s door creaked open. “Van? You here?”
    Shit. Chad wasn’t supposed to be home for another hour.
    “You’re early.” I fairly burst from the bedroom to reach the hall bathroom. Not for the first time, I wished I’d opted for a more modern building with an en suite, but I’d always had a thing for old people, buildings, and things. Maybe I was an old soul. Maybe I just liked the patina of antique silver.
    “I’ve gotta piss like a racehorse.” He cut me off at the pass, veering into the bathroom just before me.
    On the off chance he wouldn’t notice the pregnancy test on the otherwise empty white tile counter, I darted in after him, planning to snatch it up before he could see it.
    “What the…” He had his right hand on his fly’s zipper. With his left, he pointed. “Are you?”
    I closed my eyes. Apparently, I was. I am. The news I’d all-along suspected was devastating, yet at the same time, oddly calming. A diagnosis for my symptoms. A reason for my constant malaise. A primal link between me and this great big world.
    “Holy shit…” He came to me, wrapping me in a warm hug that more than made up for our last argument. He had a perilously short fuse. “Babe…let’s get married. We’ll find a justice of the peace, and—”
    “Slow down,” I said against his chest. “I just found out I’m pregnant. I need a moment to catch my breath.”
    “Sure. Right.” He kissed my forehead, then let me go. In that instant, I felt adrift. And cold. “Let me take my piss, then we’ll celebrate. I’ll call a few friends, and we’ll head to the Buck—no, too smoky. Let’s do Proud Mary’s. It’s got that great patio.”
    “I’d really rather finish up around here and get on the road.”
    “Are you kidding me? You can’t tell a guy he’s going to be a dad, then expect him to go into hibernation. This is great news, babe. I wanna shout from rooftops and hand out cigars.”
    “I can’t be more than eight weeks. Isn’t this all a bit premature? Shouldn’t we keep it to ourselves until I’m further along?”
    “Hell, no. If you want to stay behind in this shithole, be my guest, but I’m partying. It’s not every day you become a father. I’ve even got the perfect names—Chadwick for a boy and Chadellina for a girl. Done and done. Right?”
    I closed my eyes again. Chad was a blend of spoiled-rich kid and frat guy. He had his sweet moments, and knew how to behave in polite company. He was smart, handsome, had more money in checking than God, and was even better connected than my stepfather, which was saying something. In Jackson, Mississippi, his family was royalty. By every standard my