Nothing, we’re going to do nothing.
Because, really, is there anything we can even do? I’m his stepsister, and nothing in the world will change that. Besides, that’s not the only problem. I mean, just look at us. I’m just a few bad days away from turning into a full-fledged workaholic, and Cody seems content enough to burn away all the money he earned back when he used to pretend to be a respectable member of society.
You couldn’t pick two people more different than us.
Feeling a headache starting to grow around the edges of my mind, I put on some clothes—just a pair of shorts and a red blouse—and then take a deep breath. I can’t postpone this: we’ll have to face each other, and better sooner than later.
Looking into the mirror, I straighten up my hair and take another deep breath as I try to choke the anxiety in my body. Okay, be brave, Kim; you can do this.
I turn on my heels and step out of the room, making my way down the stairs. The sound of the weight plates becomes louder as I turn to my right and head down the corridor.
I can see Cody behind the glass windows of the small gym his father installed here. He’s wearing basketball shorts, but he’s shirtless. Lying down on the bench, he’s slowly lifting up a barbell with countless plates stacked on it. Seriously, I didn’t even know we had so many of these plates in the gym.
My heart begins picking up a nervous rhythm as I walk toward the gym’s glass door, my eyes wandering over Cody’s naked chest. His pectorals are bulging from the effort, and his abs look as if they are about to pop; his skin is glistening from the sweat, and his hair is plastered to his forehead.
“Ugh,” he groans as he puts the barbell down on its support, and then sits up on the bench. Grabbing the small towel by his side, he uses it to wipe his forehead, and only then does he realize that I’m standing outside the door, looking at him.
Okay, let’s do this.
I push the door open and step inside the gym. Cody grins and stands up, walking toward me. My heart shrinks inside my chest as I watch his glistening muscles coming in my direction, and I take a step back by instinct. I have to be rational right now... and keep my mind out of the gutter.
“What’s wrong?” he asks, arching one eyebrow. He keeps walking toward me and I just take another step, my back then hitting the glass wall.
“Cody…” I start, the words feeling like a confusion of knots in my throat. “Everything’s wrong.” He stares at me in silence, and his grins starts fading away. He knows what’s coming; he knows what I’m feeling right now, and whatever I tell him won’t be a surprise.
“Kim, we’re just step--” he starts, lowering his voice, but I stop him before he continues. I don’t want to let him speak; he might just change my mind, and I can’t allow that to happen.
“No, Cody. Whatever happened last time… It can’t happen again. It won’t happen again,” I whisper, each of my words feeling like a needle going over my tongue. I hate what I’m saying right now, but there’s no other way around this. Someone has to do the right thing. “It’s my fault… I shouldn’t have kissed you. I shouldn’t have gone up to your room.”
“No, Kim, you--”
“Stop, please. Don’t make this any harder than it already is,” I whisper. I don’t want to do this, but someone has to be the responsible one.
“Fuck,” he mutters under his breath, lowering his gaze. Then, sighing heavily, he gazes at me with a resigned look on his face. “Fuck, I guess you’re right.”
“I’m right, Cody,” I tell him, wishing that I was wrong. Returning his gaze, I manage to smile faintly at him and then, without another word, I turn on my heels and leave him alone in the gym.
I just know that if I kept looking into his eyes that I’d succumb. And that won’t happen ever again.
I promise.
11
Cody
“And here’s your whisky, sir. Neat, as you asked,” the bartender tells me as he pushes the glass across the counter. I nod, thanking him, and take the glass into my hand, swirling the amber liquid as I scan the room with my eyes.
Everyone’s happy chattering and mingling, and I’m just here in a foul mood, nursing a fuckin’ whisky. Kim’s on the other side of the room, merrily chatting with Alicia, and some other friends of hers.
What the hell am I even doing here? A fucking engagement party! First, I agree with Kim, nothing can happen between us ever again. And then I agree to accompany her to her friend’s engagement party. Please, check me into an asylum; I must be losing my fucking mind. What next? A baby shower?
I mean, my reputation is at stake here. Just imagine if anyone I know saw me here. Cody, the incorrigible ladies man, is hanging with his stepsister as if he’s in a relationship, and he’s not even fucking her. Yeah, this is not like me at all.
But, fuck it; I had to come. I heard her talk on the phone with a friend of hers, complaining that she’d have to come to Alicia’s party by herself… And then she asked me to come. What could I say to that? I couldn’t exactly tell her to fuck off. I’m an asshole, sure, but I’m not a fucking bastard.
Anyway, not everything is bad. At least there’s free booze. And Alicia’s fiancé is this billionaire, a guy with a reputation of his own, so that means that the booze is top shelf. A $10,000 bottle of whisky for free? Well, that kinda helps make peace with this situation.
Besides, Kim’s friends are hot. Most of them are taken, yeah, but there are a few single ones parading around, and let me tell you… They sure sound like a good way for me to put this situation with Kim behind me.