No Strings Attached (Sample)

(1) Breakfast

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| Chapter 1 |

I learned a few new facts about Jason in the three days after he moved in, and they were things that I really, really didn't want to know.

Fact number one: he was the most annoying human being I had ever met.

I was minding my own business the day after the Millers officially came to live with us, reading my battered copy of Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire. I was making my way through the series yet again; I even kept a tally in the back of each book to see how many times I'd read it. It was a little known fact in school that I was so bookish, or I guess they would call it nerdy.

So I was sat in the middle of the den completely immersed in the pages, when I felt a firm tap on my shoulder. I looked back to find Jason hovering over me with an idiotic, goofy grin plastered onto his face.

"Can I help you?" I asked.

"What are you doing?" he replied, completely ignoring my own question.

I let out a tortured sigh. It was safe to say that I wasn't the biggest fan of my new stepbrother, and that seemed to be proven more and more each time I was forced to speak to him. In just twenty-four hours he'd already managed to copy all of my friends' numbers of my phone- the girls, that is- go through my underwear drawer, from which some items are now missing, and take an extremely unflattering picture of me in a bright green face mask whilst brushing my teeth. Let's just say that if someone saw it my life would be officially ruined... hence my lack of civility.

"What does it look like I'm doing?" I snapped. "I'm reading."

"Can you make me a sandwich?"

I looked at Jason incredulously. "No!"

"Why not, Blake?" he pressed. "It's not like you're doing anything important."

"Leave me alone, Jason," I told him.

"Please?"

"No."

"Pretty please?" he asked, and even batted his eyelashes a couple of times.

I huffed, really getting irritated at this point. "For god's sake, no. Make it your god damn self!"

"Please, please, please!" He started to poke my stomach, annoying me even more. "Please." Poke. "Please" Poke. "Please." Poke.

"Fine!" I all but screamed. "I'll make it if you just shut up!"

"Yay," he cheered, immediately ceasing his poking. "And don't forget to cut off the crusts!"

Fact number two: he's a dirty slob.

"Jason!" I screeched.

He burst into the bathroom just moments later, completely out of breath. "What?" he asked frantically.

"What the hell happened to my bathroom?" I don't think that I need to tell you annoyance was evident in my voice.

"You mean our bathroom," he corrected. "And I just made it a little more masculine. You seriously called me in here for this? I thought you needed my rescue from a killer spider or something."

"More masculine?" I repeated disbelievingly. "It looks like a tornado's passed through here!" My eyes went over my 'new' bathroom. His clothes were everywhere; wet towels littered the floor; the plug hadn't been taken out of the bath. He'd even replaced all my makeup on the counter with his shaving cream and razors.