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CAROLINE

T he only reason I asked for space was because Callum’s words struck me so deeply I was surprised I didn’t crumple on the ground. He said the same exact thing I felt.

Besides, I didn’t think it was real. Love at first sight? Or, more aptly, love at first fuck.

It’s the stuff of rom-coms and fairy tales. It doesn’t happen in real life. Right? But there’s no other explanation for it. From the moment we talked to each other and all the other times we’ve spent together, I always felt light and happy with him. He’s good-looking, sexy, and funny. All those things are true, but there’s also a deeper reason. Something I still can’t explain, as though a part of me waited for him long before I knew he existed.

That night at the club, the pull was so strong it should have scared me, should have sent me running the other way. But the universe had other plans. Of all the people who could end up being my stepbrother, it had to be him.

What a sick, awful joke.

My dad is going to cut me off and kill me, probably in that order or in reverse, I don’t know anymore. I’m not sure what he’ll do to Callum, even if he’s married to Callum’s Mom. God, my thoughts are all over the place. Part of me wants to call Callum, but the other part wants to really think this through. I have to since it will change the course of my life—for better or worse.

I’m still mulling over what to do when my phone buzzes.

Sperm Donor: Breakfast at 7

Yes, I have that saved as my contact because the choice is either Deadbeat Dad—kind of inaccurate as of now because he pays for everything, and I’m mighty glad I don’t need to take on several jobs to get through college—or Sperm Donor. I chose the catchier and funnier of the two.

I respond with a thumbs-up because I can’t be bothered with a proper reply. Dad will hate that, but whatever, he’ll be furious no matter what I do.

Throughout the taxi ride home last night—thank God for non-chatty drivers who respect my need for silence—I found myself thinking back to the vulnerability in Callum. The raw honesty was so rare in my life that I had no idea how to react. It was just too much, too soon, even though I was well aware he was speaking for both of us. He felt the same thing I did. The only problem was he had enough strength and daring to follow his heart, and I didn’t … at least not yet.

Callum will be at breakfast; that’s for sure. And after the way I left last night, I don’t know what to expect. I told him I needed time and space, but really, I’m just trying to process my feelings. If I stop lying to myself, I can just fling myself to him, and we’ll ride off into the sunset. But that’s easier said than done.

What happens to me, then? My content creator money isn’t enough to finance my last year in college unless I put in more time and effort. I mean, sure, I can quit school and go full-time as an influencer, but I promised Mom I would come home with a degree. I always fulfill my promises, especially to her. If she finds out my dad has cut me off, she’s going to work double shifts at the pharmacy again.

I don’t want that to happen. My decisions, my consequences.

My mind is tangled in a mess of worries, doubt, and overthinking. I can’t sort them out.

The drive to Dad’s mansion is a blur, and even with the windows open, which I usually love, I can’t seem to get into a better mood. After this breakfast, I might just bury myself in the mattress and sleep the whole day. Or the whole week.

I arrive in the exclusive neighborhood where every house has at least a few acres of land, an Olympic-sized pool, tennis court, or a luxurious home theater. It’s a place I don’t belong and never will, and that’s okay with me.

I park beside Dad’s Aston Martin. My Toyota Camry looks laughable beside his sports car, which is priced north of $200,000. The vehicle can pay for the rest of my college and let me provide for Mom for the rest of her life, but oh well, that’s life, I guess. It’s never fair.

My mind is still elsewhere as I walk to the massive front door, and I barely notice the footsteps behind me, soft but deliberate. It’s not until I catch a shadow alongside mine that my stomach drops, and I whirl around, my heart pounding like a drum.

I freeze, gripping my keys tightly, the cold metal pressing into my palm.

It’s the guy from the country club, the one who wouldn’t take no for an answer. He’s at least in his late 30s, with a messy mop of brown hair and a beard covering half his face. At the party, I didn’t mind him too much. I realize just now that he’s so much bigger than I thought. I don’t have heels on, so I’m standing at only 5’8. He’s at least 6’. He may not be as muscular as Callum, but I’m still no match for him.

Fear creeps up my spine, and every instinct yells at me to run.

“Look what your brother did to me.” He points to his bandaged hand, which he might have injured when he bumped into the statue. Telling him he deserves it is at the tip of my tongue. He was acting creepy. I tried to be polite, but he immediately took that as an invitation to act like a total pervert, invading my space and forcing me to give him my number. “He’s your brother, right?”

“No, he’s not.”

He tilts his head slightly. His smile isn’t friendly, as if he knows something I don’t. “He sure acted like a jealous boyfriend. I mean, do your parents know that you’re fucking each other when they’re not looking?”

I mask the fear by glaring at him and standing straighter. “Stay away from me. I’ll call the cops. Dad is also inside.”

“Why? I mean, just go out with me. Let’s go in the car. After all, you’ve been teasing me for two days straight.”

Cold and sharp panic grips me. I can just scream as loud as possible and run to the door, but my body feels rooted to the ground, my mouth refusing to open.

“You don’t remember, do you?” He sighs dramatically, shakes his head, and takes a step closer. “You danced on my lap and ground your ass against my cock back in the reception. Then, you flirted with me at the country club. Why do you look so scared now? Afraid of what happens when you string men along?”

“Stay away from me. I didn’t flirt with you, and a dance was just a dance. It didn’t mean anything.”

He reaches his hand to me, but it’s wrenched away immediately. A sharp inhale cuts through me as I see Callum gripping the other guy’s arm and twisting it behind him. The guy loses his cockiness. He may be stronger than me, but Callum is a lot stronger than him.

Callum’s jaw is set, his eyes burning with anger. When he turns to me, though, his gaze softens. “You okay, Car?”

I can only nod. Relief crashes over me so sudden and strong that it leaves me weak. I exhale a shaky breath I didn’t know I was holding, and my hands tremble.

Callum watches me closely, and when he’s satisfied I’m not hurt, he whirls the other guy and unleashes a barrage of punches that makes him fall to the ground. At first, he shields his face with his arms, but Callum is relentless. He doesn’t stop, not even as blood gushes out of the other guy’s nose.

“Callum! Jesus Christ, what are you doing? Stop!” Someone shrieks beside me, and I turn to find his mom, dressed in a Victorian nightgown no less, her hair perfectly coiffed already, a light dusting of blush on her cheeks, and a swipe of lip gloss.

Callum backs away and props both hands on his waist. He’s breathing hard, sweat dotting his forehead. “He’s been trying to force Caroline into his car. Sick pervert.”

The other guy manages to laugh and choke on his blood. “At least she’s not my stepsister.”

The silence is so loud I can hear a pin drop. Dad steps forward, his eyes flitting from Callum to me. “What is he saying? What does he mean?”

His mom rushes to Dad’s side, pulling on his pajama sleeve as if he can explain everything to her. “What is going on here, Kristoff? What is he talking about?”

Dad’s cold eyes slant to me before he lunges and jerks my arm. It’s so painful that for a moment, I think my shoulder has popped off its socket. “Caroline, you answer?—”

He doesn’t get to finish as Callum positions himself between Dad and me, Callum’s bigger hand wrapping around Dad’s wrist. “Let her go.” Callum’s voice has taken on a dangerous, menacing edge.

Dad, as usual, is as oblivious as ever to Callum’s mounting rage. Dad’s inability to read the room is astounding. “She is my daughter. I will do what I want to her.”

Callum tightens his grip until Dad winces and lets go. “Try. See if I’ll let you.”

Realization dawns on Dad, and his face changes, going from fury to disbelief to disgust in the space of a few seconds. “Wait a minute. Are you two?—”

The other guy, who’s still sprawled on the ground, blood dripping from his nose, chuckles. “Yep, they’re fucking each other.”

Callum’s mom gracefully falls to the ground, a hand delicately pressed against her chest. Color drains from her face, and save for the subtle shaking of her hands, she doesn’t move.

Dad tries to sidestep Callum to no avail. His anger goes up a notch, fierce and wafting off him in waves. His eyes shimmer with barely contained heat, and he looks like he’s willing to burn everything in his path, including me. His eyebrows knit together, and his throat works like he’s attempting to swallow all the vile things he wants to say. But Dad is never the type to hold back. “I will cut you off. You will not get a cent from me.” His barrel chest rises and falls with each quick, shallow breath. “You’re an embarrassment. I should’ve known you would be. After all, your mother did raise you.”

Whatever hold he has on me breaks. Just like that. For years, I have endured all the verbal lashings. All because he’s helped send me to college and therefore eases Mom’s financial burden. If he wants to insult me, he can do so with abandon. But I draw the line at him insulting my mother, the one who had to juggle two jobs so I could live comfortably. The one who had to work almost eighty hours a week so she could send me to swimming classes or art workshops.

My heart pounds so hard, it feels like they’re about to break out of my ribs. I clench my keys and stare daggers at him. “Callum and I met before you both. We’re not related by blood.” I hold on to Callum’s arm as he gives me a supportive nod. “You know what’s embarrassing? Knocking up a girl barely out of high school and leaving her to fend for your daughter. Then, coming back only because you need to look good to the public by being a doting father.”

His lips curl in disdain. “How dare you? After everything I’ve given you.”

“How dare I? I didn’t ask to be born, and I certainly didn’t ask for the hollow version of a father you chose to be.”

He lifts a hand, and I involuntarily flinch, but Callum catches it. “Not on my watch.”

“Callum,” his mother says, “if you go with her, I’m going to cut you off, too.”

Callum then presses a kiss on my forehead and slides an arm around my waist, pulling me closer. “About damn time, Mother. I’ll make sure to tell Dad that, too. I can’t let you enjoy the money that’s supposed to be my allowance.”

Callum and I turn our backs to them, walking to his car, already looking forward to a future together. But I should have known Dad wouldn’t let us have the last word.

With a huff, he yells, “I will tell your mother about this, Caroline.”

I throw him an amused glance over my shoulder. “How sure are you she doesn’t know yet? She’s my only parent, and I tell her everything.”