Step-Lover - Page 37/64

“No,” Ripley says, walking into my room as if he owns the joint and swinging my cupboard open. “You’re coming with us.”

He starts shuffling through my closet. I kind of like having a gay brother, even though no one knows he’s gay. He has amazing taste in clothes and has picked my outfit numerous times.

“Ripley, dude,” I mutter, “careful opening my drawers. You might find Bob.”

Both guys turn to me. “Bob?” Brody asks.

“You know, Battery-Operated-Boyfriend.”

Brody groans and covers his ears. “Fuck me, woman, I’m scarred for life.”

“You love it,” I snort. “Now leave so I can go and buy chocolate. This is essential.”

“No, you’re comin’ out,” Ripley continues. “So is Mel. Where’s Mel?”

“She will be home in five.” I sigh. “And why do we need to go out?”

Ripley flashes me a killer smile. “It’s a surprise.”

“Did you get me a stripper? Because that’s the only way you’ll get me out.”

Ripley shrugs and Brody snorts.

God. Boys.

“Fine, I’ll come for an hour. Mel has been busting to go out, so she’ll be all over this.”

“All over what?”

We all turn to see Mel standing in the doorway, wearing her sexy-as-hell pencil skirt and tight black blouse. She rocks the administration look. Her hair is bunched up on top of her head in a way that makes her look damned sexy. Her eyes flick to Brody and her cheeks go pink. She hasn’t seen much of him since the lake, maybe two or three times, but I know he still has an effect on her.

“We’re going out,” Ripley says. “By the way, you look hot, Mel.”

She smiles at him. “So do you. Nice haircut.”

He stops and runs his hands through it. “Right?”

She laughs. “Hey, Brody.”

He looks her up and down, and I swear to everything he gives her fuck-me eyes when he rasps, “Hey babe.”

Ohmigod. He just called her babe. I want to throw my arms around him. It’s only taken a freaking year for him to realize my friend is hot and so ready for him. Melanie flushes and smiles, then turns to Ripley again. “Where are we headed?”

“Up town, not sure where yet. Come on, we have fifteen minutes to get ready.”

I gape at him. “You’re fucking with us, right?”

“No girl can be ready in fifteen,” Mel says, curling her upper lip.

“Sure you can. Your hair and makeup look smokin’ hot, Mel,” Ripley says. “Just get on a sexy dress and heels and we’re done.”

“And what about me?” I cry, pointing to my slacks.

He frowns. “Sit and let me work.”

Jesus.

Someone help me.

~*~*~*~

Twenty minutes later, Ripley has picked my dress and my shoes, and I’ve managed to run a straightener over my hair and apply light makeup. Do not ask me how this is possible, but we managed it. The dress he picked for me is tight, and it’s red. The front drapes down in loose ruffles, showing off some great cleavage. The back dips low, but not so low you can see my hips. It’s tight and sits well above my knees.

I team it with a pair of black pumps and a black purse. I leave my hair down and just mess with it until it has that teased look. My makeup is light, but smoky around the eyes. Mel left her hair the way it was, and pulled on a dark navy-blue dress similar to mine, only hers is a V-cut at the front. She’s wearing silver pumps and is clutching a silver purse.

“Ready!”

Ripley practically drags me out the front door and we all pile onto the curb.

“Who’s driving us?” I ask, looking around.

“They are.”

I look to my left to see a massive black car pulling to the side of the road. That thing looks like it holds about twenty freaking people—it’s that big. It must be one of their friends’. I flick open my purse to double check I have everything when I hear Melanie whisper, “Oh, you’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

I lift my head to see what she’s on about, and all the air in my lungs is sucked right out. Blade and Peyton are walking towards us. There’s nothing flowing through my mind right now except horror. This is the surprise? Is Ripley sick in the head? I suddenly feel restricted, as if I can’t breathe. It’s been a year since I’ve seen him, but nothing has changed.

He looks gorgeous.

Tonight he’s wearing a pair of faded, denim jeans and a long-sleeved sweater that dips to a V at the front. It’s a dark, sexy gray. He’s got a beanie on his head and his blond hair is poking out in twenty different messy angles that makes him just look fucking edible. He’s got a chain hanging from his jeans and one around his wrist. Oh god. I can’t breathe.

“Surprise!” Ripley cries. “Blade is home.”

Home.

Home?

Blade is home?

I’m going to vomit.

His eyes meet mine and he flinches. Clearly he had no idea I’d be here either, judging from the expressionless yet horrified look on his face. Obviously he continued to see Peyton, because she’s holding onto his hand, looking so fucking beautiful it hurts. I can’t do this. I just moved on. I just got over this.

“I don’t think . . .” I swallow. “I think I might stay home.”

“Nonsense!” Ripley cries, hooking his arm through mine. “It’s a celebration. He’s here to live, did he tell you?”