My stepbrother

Chapter 2

Zayne

I drive up to the house, and there's a moving truck parked in the driveway. Mommy dearest moves in today, I assume. I scoff; I cannot believe Dad married some random woman in Vegas. I park my car, hop out and stroll up to the door.

“Maija, is the truck empty?” A woman asks as she unpacks a box in the living room. She looks up, and I’m face to face with a beautiful African American woman. Not my father's usual type, he usually dates twenty-year-old models who try to get in my bed once he’s out of town. She looks at me with confusion before it turns into a smile.

“Zayne?” I nod in response.

“I’m Carolyn.”

know nothing about, but that does

about you all

hear. She ignores my little remark and continues hugging me before releasing me slowly. I look at the woman, confused, as she smiles warmly at me. Is this

shifting uncomfortably under her warm gaze. I am used to women looking at me like they want to rip my clothes off, but having lost my mother when I was 5, I am not familiar or comfortable with this look of affection. She

should relax. You must be exhausted since you just got back.” She smiles warmly at me again, and for some reason, I feel like I’m

these last couple of months.”  I nod; she busies herself emptying boxes. I scan the room, analyzing all the boxes left to unpack. I count around fifteen. I really should help; I wasn’t exhausted since I arrived state side two weeks ago. However, I’m not feeling particularly helpful

staircase. I climb a couple of steps before

my pocket. I take another step but feel myself collide with something soft and fragrant. I grunt before looking at whoever ran me over in my own home. A dark skin girl, brown eyes, pouty lips covered in red looks up at

the fact that she is my stepsister and should be off-limits does not register one bit as I imagine what she would look like on her