Page 58 of Stepbrothers with Benefits
“Youarebeing stupid and dramatic,” I called back. I loved the guy, and I cared deeply about him, but that didn’t mean I wasn’t going to call him out when he was being extra. It was one thing to be extra when he was doing something fun or was interested in, but when it came to beating himself up over something that, all things considered, was perfectly natural, I was going to draw the line.
“Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Molester,” he repeated in an annoyed grumble as he returned with our glasses refilled.
“You have to admit that was pretty good,” I said, leaning forward to take the glass and rolling my eyes when he jerked it back. “Withholding a man’s booze is a violation of the Bro Code.”
“Not when it looks like one’s bro has had too much,” he said dryly.
“I’m not the one who’s worried about becoming a serial groper when drinking,” I said, taking advantage of his annoyance at my joke to take my glass before he was tempted to really keep it.
“Stop,” he hissed, sitting back down and glaring at me when I put my legs back on his lap. “Really?”
“It’s like...my shins and my feet,” I told him, wiggling my toes for extra impact. “So, unless you developed an uncontrollable urge to lick toes, I think you’re fine.”
“Oh God, ew,” he groaned, suddenly distracted by his least favorite part of the human body. His dislike of feet was so strong that his dramatic shudder wasn’t all that fake. “Just...ew.”
“Aww, c’mon,” I said, giving my toes another wiggle, brushing them against one another to make a skin against skin scraping sound that made him lean away.
“Stop!” he groaned, looking like he was tempted to push my legs off, but unsure how close he wanted to get to the offending body parts.
“They’re right theeeerrre,” I said with a grin.
“Look, I don’t care how…” he stopped, and I saw color flooding his cheeks. “Just quit! This is disgusting.”
“You don’t care how...what?” I asked, and when I saw the pink in his cheeks turn red, I thought I had a good idea what had been about to fall out of his mouth. “You don’t care...how clean my feet are?”
“You’re the worst,” he said, narrowing his eyes. It wasn’t suspicion on his face, no, no, he knew me well enough to understand that I wasn’t genuinely trying to figure out what he’d been about to say. It wasn’t a matter of if I would say anything to mortify him; it was simply a case of when.
“How comfortable I am?”
“Stop.”
“How much fun we’re having?”
“Ugh.”
“Oh wait?—”
“Don’t do it. I swear to God I’ll?—”
“Were you going to say you don’t care how hot you think I am, you’re not going to suck my toes?”
Looking back, he had given what he thought was his best war cry as he slammed his glass onto the table, shoving my legs out of his way and launching himself at me. I’d been ready, though, and caught him before his full weight landed on my middle. I’d already known I was going to provoke him into attacking me, and my glass was behind me, away from the worst of the battle.
Like his sudden need to fight me, his way of fighting was just as predictable. I knew he was going to go for my head, and quickly ducked so he’d have to fight harder to get hold of me. I wrapped my arms around his chest and pushed forward, which left him scrambling to get hold of my upper body and draw me away so he could get the upper hand.
“Hold still!” he demanded as I steadily pushed him back. Milo’s wrestling tactic with me was to go for the immediate kill, his target fully in focus, but he was always impatient, and the execution was sloppy. Honestly, in a real fight against someone who didn’t know what to expect, he might actually be able to win. The funny thing was that Milo was always gentler with me than I was with him, but I suppose out of the two of us, he was better adjusted to getting smacked around. At the same time, in a real fight, someone probably wouldn’t expect the savagery that Milo attacked with, and that savagery and the element of surprise could go a long way.
He wasn’t really fighting, though, and he was fighting someone who knew him a little too well. I paused to let him fruitlessly scramble above me as I considered angling myself tobring him down to the floor in front of the couch. We’d learned in the first month that having a coffee table in front of the couch was not a good idea. Not only was Milo too clumsy, but impromptu wrestling matches weren’t exactly rare. It was more accurate to say that we no longer had oneafter the last one broke. Milo lost his balance after I fended him off and fell on the damn thing.
So the space was clear, and away from the end tables where our drinks were sitting. Nothing at all to save him from being rolled and shoved down, his back hitting the floor. I spared a moment to remember it was eight on a Friday night, so the people below us were probably out. Just so long as we weren’t loud enough to draw the attention of the people on either side of us, we wouldn’t have to deal with the building manager or the cops showing up to ensure there wasn’t a ‘domestic incident’...again.
“Pay attention.” He grinned at me, yanking my leg, and sure enough, I lost my balance and fell to the carpet to prevent my body from bending how it shouldn’t. Never one to miss an opportunity, he was quickly on top of me, predictably going for my arms when he should have been worried about my legs. Which he was quickly reminded of when I bucked, heaving him off balance for a moment before bringing my legs up to wrap around him.
“Hey!” he protested as I shoved myself upward to get a better angle, giving him the only warning he would get for what would come next. I actually had a moment when I saw his eyes widen, understanding that he had again fallen for my tactics over his brute force. “Damn it!”
He could flail all he wanted, but he was still flung back until he crashed onto the carpet again, and I sent up a silent prayer that our downstairs neighbors really were out for the night. If not, I would get a text because the ones on either side had abetter understanding of what Milo and I were like and had more patience for our bullshit.
I wasn’t going to waste the chance I’d created and quickly untangled my legs from his back while he tried to remember how to breathe after having the wind knocked from him, though I doubted any sense had been smacked back into him. Even then, he tried to get his legs up, but only one moved, which I quickly grabbed and shoved over one of my shoulders with a smirk. The other I sat on as I leaned forward, pushing his leg to the point where he wouldn’t be able to move without fear of hurting himself from overstretching, and then worked to get hold of his wrists.
