Forbidden Desires: Embraced By My Stepbrother

I stare deeply at the bubbles of my beer, zoning out despite the raucous atmosphere of the bar.

It's the last week of college. We'd had our graduation ceremony yesterday, and tonight, all the seniors are in Caleb's bar, partying away the last miserable four years of our lives.

Whoever said college is going to be the best time of our lives only wanted money. They just said that to lure innocent teenagers, who will later become broke adults, to pay fees or take out loans to pay fees.

Thankfully, with my mother's past divorces, which I'm not proud of, I am not in any debt.

For me, the last four years were just blank. I can't even remember any of my classes except for philosophy and literature, which are my favorite subjects, because I hope to become a writer someday.

I already write on websites and have loyal fans, but I want to be published and recognized widely.

The thrill of signing autographs on a published book of mine is something I dream of all the time.

"Don't tell me you're zoning out in a bar!" Juliet, my best friend, remarks disapprovingly in my ear, shouting against the loud music.

I reel away from her, rubbing at my ears, echoing with her voice.

"Shit, Juliet!" I reproach, mildly annoyed.

"What?" She giggles, seeming to be having fun. She pulls away the empty stool beside me and plops onto it.

The waiter comes up to her like a robot, smiling briefly.

"I will have a rum, please," she says, batting her eyelashes at him, and I roll my eyes. Juliet likes to get cute with men.

I, on the other hand, have never seemed to be attracted to anyone. I mean, I have the occasional crushes here and there, but then, a guy would speak, and I'd realize that I'd just been delusional.

That's why most of my classmates had boyfriends in college or high school, and I didn't.

And yes, I've chosen to focus on myself and my writing so far. At twenty-three, I'm comfortable with my own pace when it comes to relationships.

The waiter resurfaces with Juliet's rum in a perspiring glass, and she thanks him calmly, with no eyelash batting or gleeful giggles.

"So," she turns to me while sipping at her glass, "why are you being a brick? You should be out there," she gestures behind her to the dance floor, "meeting the hottie of your dreams. I thought you said you would finally try putting yourself out there tonight?"

I wince at Juliet's expression as a heavy sigh leaves me.

Yes, I did say I'd use this opportunity of the get-together to finally let go and be more social, but before I zoned out, I'd looked around the whole bar and realized that I wasn't really feeling a connection with any guy here.

There are three guys I've had a crush on before, and while one of them has been shooting me furtive, interested glances all night, I cannot bring myself to go over to him and start a conversation so directly.

Juliet told me that sometimes, you just have to take a chance.

"Maybe I don't have to be in a hurry. There's plenty of time for that sort of thing," I say cheerfully.

The two girls down the row of the bar turn to look at Juliet, wearing a knowing smile.

One of them winks, and the other hides her giggles with a hand.

I think I may have shouted that a bit too loudly over the music.

"Eva," Juliet's face turns serious, "girl, listen. You should really try tonight, trust me. You know most of the people here. In the real world, it gets trickier to meet people. College is a more familiar environment."

My brows furrow in deep thought. I know she's right. I have had first row seats to the way my mom goes through relationships.

Just when you think he's going to be the one, he decides to show his true colors and then leave her. Mom doesn't marry all her dates, though, she's only married five, and unfortunately for her, they weren't any different from the others.

But fortunately for me, I got to meet their children, and we're still sort of friends even while our parents don't speak.

"Okay," I breathe out in resignation.

"I'll have to drink a bit to loosen up, though," I say to Juliet as I empty my beer in one gulp.

"That's the spirit," she grins, giving me a gentle slap on my shoulder. Her eyes sparkle as she shouts, "Oh!! That was a good pun."

I shake my head at her.

"Don't get too carried away, though, you know how some people can be," she shudders with a grimace.

I chuckle lightly because coming from her? That means she's seen things.

I ordered two glasses of whiskey to revive my motivation for the night.

As I sip away, a grating voice reaches my ears, making me stiffen. My blood pumps fiercely and hot in my veins as my eye twitches slightly, alerting me that the enemy is near.

"Tangerine!" Aaron Coleman shouts his stupid nickname for me.

Before he leans over my shoulders, I finish my second glass of whiskey, wiping my mouth forcefully and getting ready for battle.

Aaron Coleman is the one guy in my life who gets under my skin like no other. From middle school to high school and then to college, Aaron has been a constant thorn in my side.

I thought it was all in my head when I was a kid, but we grew up, and I realized and painfully accepted that Aaron has always been out to get me.

If he isn't trying to steal grades that are rightfully mine by being the best in classes I cherish, then he's making fun of me or twisting my name into something inane.

When we arrived at college years ago, it became Tangerine.

Before that, it was Evanescence, Vaseline, Halloween, or machine. It's never been Evangeline, which is my full name.

Mom used to call me that a lot when I was a child, and since Aaron was always tormenting me after school when mom used to pick me up, he overheard it and decided to twist it.

To everyone else, I'm Eva.

To my mom, I'm Angel on some days.

To Aaron, I'm anything but Eva or Evangeline.

My eyes sparking with unbridled irritation and dislike for Aaron, I spin the stool to face him, shooting him a glare.

"Tangerine, you don't want to see me?" Aaron gasps mockingly, dramatically lifting a hand to his chest as if he's been wounded.

What I hate about Aaron is that despite everything, he's handsome. I could say he's one of the best-looking guys in our senior year.

We did different majors, but had a few classes together. Girls always stared at him. Some boys as well. And it wasn't any different in high school.

Wherever he goes, he's the star of the show.

That shiny blond hair of his that he manages to groom so well is currently styled in a way that some strands cover his forehead, giving him that eternal boyish look he possesses.

His straight nose is perfect, and his lips have a natural, soft-looking curve.

He takes all the attention wherever he goes, and you can't be mad at him. He handles it so well, despite being a rogue and an asshole.

Another thing I remember about him is that Aaron was my third kiss. It happened one night when we were both young and not thinking clearly.

Heat rises to my cheeks as I push the memory away.

I absolutely do not want to dwell on that.

"Go away, Aaron."

"Aw, don't be like that." he ignores my harsh look and steps into my personal space, smelling clean and masculine.

"You two should totally just talk it out," Juliet suddenly says, and I turn around to look at her, my eyes widening with disbelief.

She chuckles innocently, shrugging and sipping from a bottle of beer I didn't realize she'd ordered.

"What? You may not like each other, but everyone knows there's undeniable tension between you two."

I shoot her a glare. "I don't have anything for him!" I squeak.

"I didn't say the tension was coming from you," she replies with a distant look in her eyes, taking a sly glance at Aaron.

I turn to look at him and find him clenching his jaw, his chest rising and falling with heavy breaths.

"Who the heck do you think you are to suggest I want anything to do with Tangerine?" Aaron seethes at Juliet.

Something cold flutters in my chest, briefly stinging me. It takes me a second to realize it's the feeling of being dismissed so harshly.

I know I usually say that I don't want anything to do with Coleman, but hearing him outrightly reject the very idea, with irritation and indignation in his voice no less, tells me everything I need to know.

He may be a constant thorn in my side and is obsessed with getting a rise out of me, but it means he doesn't actually care for me.

I guess the little girl in me had believed that stupid saying that boys teased girls they liked. Aaron was just someone who was fascinated with seeing me react.

Bracing a smile that I hope doesn't reflect that he'd momentarily hurt and offended me with his comment, I say something that instantly comes into my mind.

"Then let's prove there's nothing there."

Both Aaron and Juliet splutter at the same time, taken off guard.