Wrong: A Stepbrother Romance

“Nice. I’m like, never productive,” Rhode laughed, leaving the Italian in our living room as she sat with me at the marble kitchen counter. “I actually meant to get my nails redone for fight night but nope.”

“Is that tonight?”

“Mm-hm, and we are gonna make bank, girl. Plus, Abram Sexpants Lenox will be in attendance, which is crazy because his sexy ass is so MIA these days. He used to come around a lot more but not so much in the last like, four months.”

Four months. I’d met him in the alley barely any time ago. Clearly, whatever he planned had in fact been in motion for longer. I couldn’t help wondering what it was. Somehow, the more time I spent with Abram, the harder I could imagine him doing anything vicious. He could’ve done much worse to Evan last night but he hadn’t. He only hurt Nate because Nate had threatened me. But of course, I couldn’t discount the man in the alley – the gash splitting his head, pouring his blood. As Rhode and I sat talking, absently playing on our phones, I typed dozens of words into Google that I only deleted before hitting search.

Abram Lenox crime

Abram Lenox Toro Family

Abram Lenox murder

Suddenly, I didn’t want to know.

~

There were different uniforms on fight nights. It was my first fight night so I let Rhode give me the full rundown as she curled my hair in the women’s clubhouse. It was a luxury locker room of sorts, built from polished wood and glass with no shortage of backlit mirrors. The other girls got ready around us, all of us handing lipsticks and eyeliners and hairspray back and forth in a constant exchange.

I cocked my head as Rhode brushed out my curls. “Honestly, how much worse can these uniforms get from our normal dresses?” Our daily uniform was actually classy enough with long sleeves and a lace overlay to cover the plunging sweetheart neckline, but it was also insanely short. I didn’t think it could get much more scandalous but Rhode and one of the other girls flashed me twin looks.

“Girl,” they both said, leaving it at that.

I didn’t understand till the woman from dry cleaning came to drop them off. After letting Rhode help me stuff all my curves into its skintight fabric, I spent five minutes standing in front of the mirror with her, just gaping at my own reflection.

“I know,” she said. “It’s ridiculous. But doesn’t it make you feel like a fucking sex goddess?”

“I think… yes, it does,” I murmured quietly, excitement building in my bones. The racerback crop top was black leather with tantalizing, triangle slits just below the bust. The stretchy black pencil skirt, with two panels of black mesh down the sides, ended just above my knees, hugging my hips as if holding on for dear life. It might’ve been the first time I looked at myself and got turned on by what I saw.

“I’m gonna fuck the Italian so hard in this tonight,” Rhode murmured as she gazed at her side view.

Or maybe it was that that was turning me on. The idea of looking this fucking good for your man. Not that Abram was my man. I didn’t know what he was. In any other world, the time frame in which we’d known each other would still put us as strangers. But the universe had rewritten that rule when pairing us. Our connection was often wordless and it grew in barely any time at all, rooted mostly in horrible things. Nate’s rage. The bike accident. That bloody night in the alley.

That night had been easily the worst in my life. And yet I was quickly realizing it had also been my turning point. In the year before, I’d done nothing but wallow in Elle’s death. I was apathetic and listless, with no regard for what my life might spiral into as I did nothing but wake up, go to work and come home, spending all the time in between staring at walls, thinking of Elle and sleeping too much. I’d still been in that dark place the night Evan called. I’d thought little enough of myself that I was willing to sleep with him that night if he wanted me to.

But running into Abram had woken me up. I’d been forced to react, to take action to all the things happening around me. I’d discovered that I was still alive in there – that I had fight and that with Elle gone, there were still other things in the world to live for. There was still joy to be felt.

And for that, I was endlessly grateful.

“Alright. Enough checking ourselves out,” Rhode smirked as she glanced at the clock. “Doors open soon. Let’s go have the best night of our lives.”

chapter seventeen

The floor had been transformed for the night, the boxing ring unveiled and the overhead spotlights shining. The floor had buzzed all night and I’d delivered what felt like several hundred drinks in just the two hours before the fight started. I was grateful to be kept so incredibly busy because it kept me from hyperventilating over Abram. He was devastatingly handsome with his dark hair slicked back, wearing a crisp black suit and charcoal shirt. A matching pocket square peeked from his jacket. He was as formal as I’d ever seen him and he looked so incredibly good that I went half-insane every time I peeked his way. It didn’t help that he hadn’t looked at me once.

It was even worse that by the start of the fight, he had a breathtakingly beautiful girl in his arms.

She was still impossibly petite in massive heels, with a wasp-like waist and a high bouffant. She and Abram sat in an elevated area with a few important-looking men, including Nate, who sneered at me the one time I caught his eye. Both he and Abram looked more serious than even their usual, as if conducting the gravest of business transactions. I wished that wasn’t such a fucking sexy look on Abram.

“I know. Ridiculous,” Rhode shook her head as she came to stand next to me. The fight had officially started and everyone had a drink, so we waitresses all stood with our trays at the bar, some watching the fight, but most watching Abram. “Actually unfair how hot that man is. I don’t know who that lucky bitch is but damn her for getting to fuck him tonight.”

My stomach twisted. I had hoped she was just a business associate but my doubts increased as the night went on. By late evening, everyone at that table seemed to ease up. Abram wet his lips as the girl rubbed his knee and whispered into his ear. He whispered back intensely. The more they drank, the more obvious they got, the girl resting her legs over his lap and Abram sliding his fingers under her dress. Are you serious. My face burned and my eyes refused to blink as I watched his hand begin moving slowly under her skirt. It went on for what felt like ten full minutes, till she hugged her arms around his neck and whispered words that spread a wide grin across his lips.

I felt my heart splinter as I drowned out the scandalous whispers around me, watching Abram whisper in her ear, prompting her to get up and excuse herself before he did the same.

“Alright, man. Bathroom fuck,” one of the bartenders cheered.