My...Stepbrother? {15}

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                                                                                ***Trace’s POV***

                “Trace? What are you doing?” Juliet asked as I sat up and grabbed my clothes.

                “I’m going home,” I grumbled. She sat up and also began to redress. She came over to me and kissed me deeply.

                “Are you okay Trace? That wasn’t like it usually is. What’s on your mind?” she asked, wrapping her arms around my neck.

                I shrugged her off and ran a hand through my hair. “Don’t worry about it. It’s nothing. I just need to think,” I mumbled, pulling my shirt on and kissing her once more before leaving her bedroom.

                I walked myself home and went into the pool house. I got out the dirt bike and my helmet, just needing a distraction.

                I jumped on the dirt bike after putting my helmet on and began to ride around our house. My neighbor, some old widow bitch, hated when I rode the dirt bike but I just didn’t give a flying fuck right now.

                Even during sex with my girlfriend, my thoughts had kept flashing to Kory. It had to just be all the jealousy and anger that was making me think of him. That was all it had been. That had to be all it was.

                I zig zagged through the tree on the mini hill in our backyard, picking up speed and wanting to just ride and ride forever, never have to get off and face the feelings that were trying to get through to me.

                I was straight. I knew I was straight. I had always liked girls. I had never had feelings for any guy in my entire life. I hated homosexuals. I thought that shit was absolutely disgusting.

                But my feelings for Kory were so…so mixed. I hated him. I was jealous of him. But some part of me…liked him. Liked him more than I should. I hated that. It made me want to just hit him again. But I felt guilty for hitting him yesterday.

                And then when he had stripped down to his boxers…Ugh! I was straight, straight, straight! Still, the sight of him in just his boxers had me thinking how good he looked. How nice his body looked. How I so badly wanted to just hold him forever when he nearly fell those two times.

                I was so lost in my thoughts that I barely even noticed that I was about to run Kory down in the driveway. He looked like a deer caught in headlights and I swerved to avoid him just as my dad yanked him out of the way.

                The dirt bike slid out from under me and I skidded on the driveway painfully, the dirt bike riding a long a little before falling over in the grass a couple feet away.

                “Trace!” dad and Kory cried and rushed over to me.

                They knelt next to me and dad slowly helped me up. “Trace, are you okay?” he asked in concern. I nearly started laughing at him.

                “Like you care?” I snapped, pulling my helmet off and rubbing my arm. I examined it and mentally groaned. I had been wearing a T-shirt, and now my arm was skinned.

                I stood up and staggered a little, not realizing that I must have smacked my knee. Kory caught me and I shoved him roughly, causing him to stumble and nearly fall. My dad grabbed his arm to keep him up and glared at me in disgust.

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