SPEED: A Stepbrother Romance Read online

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Stay in Touch with Stephanie Brother

  Prologue - 10 Years Earlier / Kayla

  Chapter One - The Assignment / Kayla

  Chapter Two - Sexy, Smart and All Grown Up / Kayla

  Chapter Three - Hard to Get / Axel

  Chapter Four - Stumble / Kayla

  Chapter Five - For Now / Axel

  Chapter Six - Goodbye / Kayla

  Chapter Seven - Just Like That / Axel

  Chapter Eight - Release / Kayla

  Chapter Nine - Reflection / Axel

  Chapter Ten - Walking on Clouds / Kayla

  Chapter Eleven - Cold, Hard and Empty / Axel

  Chapter Twelve - Racing / Kayla

  Chapter Thirteen - Miles Beyond / Axel

  Epilogue - Ten Years Later / Kayla

  About Stephanie Brother

  Also by Stephanie Brother

  Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Stay in Touch with Stephanie Brother

  Speed: A Stepbrother Romance

  Prologue - 10 Years Earlier / Kayla

  Chapter One - The Assignment / Kayla

  Chapter Two - Sexy, Smart and All Grown Up / Kayla

  Chapter Three - Hard to Get / Axel

  Chapter Four - Stumble / Kayla

  Chapter Five - For Now / Axel

  Chapter Six - Goodbye / Kayla

  Chapter Seven - Just Like That / Axel

  Chapter Eight - Release / Kayla

  Chapter Nine - Reflection / Axel

  Chapter Ten - Walking on Clouds / Kayla

  Chapter Eleven - Cold, Hard and Empty / Axel

  Chapter Twelve - Racing / Kayla

  Chapter Thirteen - Miles Beyond / Axel

  Epilogue - Ten Years Later / Kayla

  About Stephanie Brother

  Also by Stephanie Brother

  SPEED

  A Stepbrother Romance

  © 2016 Stephanie Brother

  All Rights Reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locations is purely coincidental. The characters are all productions of the author's imagination.

  Please note that this work is intended only for adults over the age of 18 and all characters represented as 18 or over.

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  Prologue - 10 Years Earlier

  Kayla

  The phone rang in the hall downstairs and I paused to listen. I heard my mom answer, and when she didn't call me, I went back to painting my nails. My bedroom door was open, so I could hear the murmur of my mom's voice. As I slowed to carefully brush pale green polish onto my pinkie nail, she became louder and her tone was suddenly harsh. She told the person on the line never to call again, and there was a bang right before she yelled my stepfather's name.

  My entire body tensed as I paused and waited. A few seconds later, I heard something smash, and Alexander, my stepfather, raised his voice in response.

  I capped the polish and walked softly to my door to eavesdrop. I wanted to go to my mom, to try to calm her down and make sure she was safe, but I'd done that when they'd fought two weeks ago, and she'd told me to stay away.

  Alexander was speaking to my mom about mistakes and misunderstandings. I could tell he was trying to charm her, and I'd heard him say some of these same things during their last fight. My mom did not sound like she would be soothed by him this time. There was another loud crash; something shattered on the hard tile floor.

  I looked down the hall toward my stepbrother's room. His door was closed, as usual, and in the few brief moments of quiet, I could hear that he had music playing. It was Green Day, something angry, and probably was a clue to his mood. I took a deep breath and decided that risking Axel's irritation would be better than being alone. I tapped softly at his door, timing my knocks to the yells coming up from downstairs.

  "What?" His deep voice came through the door.

  I didn't want to speak up, didn't want to risk my mom hearing me, though she wasn't acting like she even remembered that Axel and I were home. I knocked again, and this time heard my stepbrother lower the volume of his music and move across the room.

  "Can I come in?" I whispered.

  His door opened, and then he was in front of me, all tight muscles and messed up hair. He looked toward the stairs, listened to the escalating argument for a moment, and then looked at me.

  "I'm sorry. Can I just come in for a while?" I said.

  He didn't answer, but moved back, allowing me to enter, and then he pushed the door behind me, though I noticed he didn't close it all the way. Axel's room was big. Mine was too. The house had been Alexander's before my mom married him, and it was kind of a mansion. Alexander was a race car driver, and apparently did well for himself. He also had a lot of adoring fans, which was probably the cause of the fight going on right now.

  I glanced around at Axel's mess. Computer, books, heavy boots and shoes strewn across the floor, dark clothes piled everywhere. His rumpled bed was mostly clear, but I couldn't imagine sitting where he slept, so I pushed some things aside and made a small space for myself on one of his chairs.

  "How's your nose?" I asked.

  Still standing, looking slightly wary, he reached up and ran his thumb down the length of it, then he shrugged. "It's fine."

  He'd broken it several weeks ago while racing a dirt bike. He raced whatever type of vehicle he could get his hands on, and it was clear he'd be following in his dad's footsteps. He hadn't been allowed to race while his nose was recovering, and the restriction had made him moodier than usual.

  I discreetly wiggled my fingers, remembering that my nails were still wet, and I stole glances at Axel as he moved to his iPod dock. He was wearing a tank top and sweats, and I was distracted and impressed by his muscular arms. Boys in my grade were just that -- boys -- but Axel's body was more like a man's. He turned the volume back up just as Billie Joe Armstrong's anger segued into something more mournful.

  "When will you be able to race?"

  He shrugged again. "Soon, I guess." He sat on the end of his bed as the sound of my mom shrieking wafted up through the floor. Yet another loud crash signaled the destruction of something fragile downstairs. "Shit. Your mom is psycho, Kay." His tone was more sympathetic than accusing, but his words pissed me off.

  "She was never like this until she married your dad," I said, raising my voice a little.

  He shrugged again and we both listened to the argument for a few moments.

  "Do you think they'll get divorced?" I asked, not liking how I sounded like a little kid as I posed the question.

  "I don't know. Probably."

  My mom was Alexander's third wife. I remembered this as I wondered why Axel seemed like he didn't really care about the fighting. I guess he was probably used to it, but I was worried. I'd never known my real dad and had never known divorce. I was fourteen when my mom married Alexander, and though I wasn't looking for a father figure, I was glad to see her happy with him. She had seemed content until about a month ago.

&
nbsp; Axel was seventeen now and probably ready to get out of here anyway. His dad was going to make him go to college, though I didn't think Axel wanted to do anything except race.

  I had come to my stepbrother's room for company and comfort, but as we sat there in silence, I only became more worried and afraid. I couldn't express my fears to him. If I did, I'd probably cry, and I'd rather have died than cry in front of him. I fought to hold it in, and was poking at my thumbnail, its fresh polish already gouged, when Axel finally spoke.

  "Hey."

  I looked up to see a rare tender expression reflected in his brown eyes as he looked into mine.

  "It'll be okay, Kayla. Don't worry."

  Chapter One - The Assignment

  Kayla

  If the line wasn't long, I figured I'd have just enough time to grab a double latte before the Monday morning staff meeting. Being late to the meeting was unacceptable to the editor, but getting through the meeting without a strong dose of caffeine was unacceptable to me. While I was waiting to order, a text came in from Justin.

  "I had a great time Saturday. Are you free for dinner tomorrow? Hope you have a good day."

  I placed my order with the barista and felt a mild sense of dread come over me as I thought about the text message. Justin was perfectly nice, and I'd enjoyed the dates we'd been on, but I didn't really want to see him again. There was no point. If I didn't break it off now, it would just be harder to do it later.

  While I waited for my drink, I thought about how to respond. I should have been a pro at this by now. I felt like I'd brushed off or broken things off with more than my fair share of guys, and it wasn't like most of them were that bad; they just weren't right for me. Maybe I should be wondering what was wrong with me, and why it had been so hard to find the right guy. Maybe I was too picky, but I didn't want to settle or continue to see someone who just didn't feel like "the one.”

  I pushed those thoughts aside as I made my way to the office and remembered that I needed to focus on the upcoming meeting. I needed to pitch a few story ideas and wanted to be prepared to present them in the most persuasive way. I'd figure out how to respond to Justin later.

  I made it to the meeting with a couple of minutes to spare and took a seat at the far end of the table. Dean strode in at exactly eight and the room quieted. He ran a tight ship.

  The meeting followed its usual format. He reviewed highlights and feedback from the most recent issue, then presented new assignments. Some of the ideas were given to specific writers, and others were up for grabs.

  After assigning articles on an upcoming museum event and a golf course redesign, Dean stunned me with his next topic.

  "A race car driver is relocating here, Axel Beckers. He's an up-and-comer in the racing community, and a mainstay of the national gossip media. He's having a new home built here, and we'd like to do a small feature on him. I think he's NASCAR. Any takers on this one?"

  "Actually, he races Indy cars," I said.

  Everyone in the meeting turned to look at me. As I was newer on the staff of the city magazine, I didn't typically speak up until it was time for pitches, and even then I was probably not as vocal as I should be.

  Dean looked down at his paperwork, running a finger along his notes. "Oh, yeah, Indy racing. Second year coming up. Quite a hotshot, I think. I've been in touch with his manager and they're looking for some good PR."

  "I'd like this one," I said. I didn't even think; I just spoke on impulse. Meanwhile, part of my brain was working double time. Axel was going to live here? Last I'd seen, he was settled on the other coast.

  Again, all eyes were on me, and Dean's were clearly skeptical. "Kayla?"

  I knew he was thinking that I probably wasn't a good fit for this. My typical articles were about neither sports nor celebrities.

  "I'm a big racing fan, and I'm familiar with his career," I said. "Even prior to his Indy racing."

  Someone to the right of me chuckled, and I realized I sounded like a fangirl. Axel had a reputation for having a lot of female fans, most of whom probably didn't even know the difference between a road course and an oval.

  Dean stared at me for a beat, then looked around the table as if he were hoping for any other takers. Seeing none, he returned to me. "You really think you're ready for this, Kayla?"

  "Definitely, Dean." I knew I sounded eager, and I didn't care.

  He hesitated another second, then nodded once. "Okay, Kayla on Beckers. We'll want stuff on his career, his personal life, and why he's relocating here. Details about his house, if it's newsworthy." He looked back at his notes. "Also, I told his manager we'd call today. Beckers is in town for a few days this week."

  "Got it," I said. I felt the thrill of victory, which lasted for approximately five seconds before the reality of the situation set in. Would Axel even agree to meet with me?

  Chapter Two - Sexy, Smart and All Grown Up

  Kayla

  That afternoon, I called his manager and set up a lunch interview with Axel for the following day. Before heading home, I stuck my head in a coworker's cubicle.

  "Marlee, I need to borrow your name."

  "Sure. Just be sure to have it dry-cleaned before you give it back." She continued to tap away on her keyboard as she answered me.

  "Will do. Oh, and can I also borrow a couple of your business cards?"

  "What's up, Kayla?" Marlee stopped typing and looked over her shoulder at me.

  "You know my Axel Beckers assignment?"

  "The one you begged Dean for?"

  "I didn't beg for it," I protested.

  "You kind of did," Marlee said. "Anyway, yes?"

  "Well, I can't let Axel know who I am or I'm pretty sure he won't meet with me."

  Now she swiveled her chair to face me directly. "And why is that?"

  I avoided her stare and fiddled with the name plate on her cubicle. "It's a long story."

  "Hmmm…" Marlee appraised me with a long stare. "And it sounds like a good story," she said. "I’m basically at a stopping point. Let's go get drinks."

  She quickly logged off and we headed downstairs and around the corner to our favorite happy hour bar. We found a table in a quieter section and my coworker wasted no time resuming our conversation.

  "So what is this long story you have that involves Axel Beckers?"

  A waiter came over and we ordered our usual.

  "I'd like to keep this between us," I said, lowering my voice.

  "Of course." I could see the anticipation building on Marlee's face.

  "I used to be sort of related to Axel. He was my stepbrother."

  "Wow. Really?"

  "My mom was married to his dad for, oh, about a year when I was a teenager."

  "Did you live with him? Wait—" Marlee interrupted me before I could begin to answer. "Why do you think he won't meet with you? What happened?"

  "Our parents' marriage was terrible. Axel's dad cheated on my mom. My mom went kind of crazy about it. It was a really ugly divorce. I'm sure he doesn't want to see me ever again, and my god, my mom would go crazy again if she knew I was meeting with Alexander Beckers' son."

  "But you're meeting with him face-to-face tomorrow, right? How is he not going to recognize you?"

  "Oh, I look a LOT different now than I did when he knew me. Let's just say I was a late bloomer."

  Marlee laughed, and the server approached with our drinks.

  "So if there's bad blood, why do you even want to do the interview?" she asked.

  Here I paused, and I couldn't come up with a good answer. "Curiosity, I guess," I finally said. "I didn't really think it through in the meeting."

  "But you think you can pull it off? Not being recognized, I mean?" Marlee asked.

  "I think so." I took a sip of my margarita. "He barely ever looked at me anyway."

  "I'm sure he'll be looking at you now." Marlee's eyes flicked down to my chest. I had been a late bloomer, but when I bloomed, I'd grown big. I usually tried to downplay my chest, but mos
t guys still seemed to focus in on it almost immediately. "Wear something low-cut," she continued. "He's a player, isn't he? A real dog?"

  I let out a long sigh and took another drink. "That's what I hear."

  And then I started wondering; would Axel be attracted to me? When I thought about him, I still felt like an awkward little girl inside, even though for the past several years, I'd had no problem getting attention or dates. I went on a lot of dates, actually; unfortunately, none of them were ever very satisfying.

  It occurred to me that if I played up my sex appeal, it would also aid my secret mission. Axel would never expect that his little stepsister had grown up and become so sexy.

  Marlee and I moved on to different subjects, but in the back of my mind, I was flipping through my wardrobe, thinking about how far I could push the sexy and still look professional. On my way home, I thought about how I might act when I saw him and how he might respond. I thought about the order of questions I'd ask. I was interested in his thoughts about his racing career, but I knew most of our readers wanted details on his busy social life.

  Just after closing my apartment door behind me, a call came in from Justin. Damn! I'd forgotten all about him. I set my bag down and accepted his call.

  "Kayla?" He sounded both relieved and nervous.

  "Hi, Justin. I'm sorry. I had a really busy day at work." That wasn't a complete lie.

  "You got my text this morning?"

  "Yes. Sorry." I wasn't ready for this conversation, and I struggled to find the next words.

  "Are you free for dinner tomorrow?

  I decided on the direct approach. "Justin, I don't think we should see each other anymore."

  His end of the line went silent.

  "It's not you. It's me." Ugh. I couldn't believe those lame words had just come out of my mouth, but they felt like they were true. "You are a great person, I just don't think I'm ready for anything serious right now."