Stepbrother Bad Boy's Baby Boxed Set(39)

We took the photos, and the lifeguard, who I found out was named Curt, sent them off. We got a reply in about two minutes, his phone ringing. "It's my sister."

"Here, hand me the phone," I said, holding my hand out. I hit the call button and held it to my ear. "Hello, this is Julian Castelbon speaking, how may I help you?"

"No.... way!" a teenage girl yelled in my ear. "Curt, I swear to Christ that if this is you playing a trick on me...."

"No trick, Chicha," I said with a laugh, "I'm really Julian Castelbon. Your brother just saved me some trouble on the beach, and when he said you would appreciate a picture, well, I had to send it off."

The poor girl was in near hysterics, and I could barely understand what she was saying. In between repeated "no ways" and "oh my gods," she finally got a sentence out. "Yeah, yeah! God, it's really you!"

"It's me," I agreed. "Listen, Chicha, I wanted to ask you something."

"Okay!" the girl replied, still nearly unintelligible in her excitement. "You can ask me anything."

I nodded, and looked over at her brother. "Your brother said you kind of are digging on me. Now, save your wrath for him later, but I have to ask.... why?"

"You're just so awesome, and cute, and sexy and strong, and ohmygod ohmygod," she said, embarrassment fighting with excitement.

I nodded to myself and let her calm down before I continued. "Chicha, are you calmed down now?" I asked.

"Yeah, I think so."

"Chicha, I saw your picture. You're young, you're kind of cute yourself, and from the way you dress and stuff I assume you're smart. You're too good for a guy like me. I've been a world class f*ckup most of my life, and am just now getting myself straightened out. So please, do me a favor, and promise me. Promise me that around your high school, you stay away from the guys like me. Find yourself a nerdy guy, some guy who's going to treat you like the princess, and not like a piece of trash like I've done too often. Find that guy, maybe get him on some weights or something to fill him out, and watch as he goes from nerd to rich guy who's driving a Benz while the punk asses like I was just keep getting into trouble in five years. You'll be a lot happier in life."

"I.... I will," she said in my ear. "I promise."

"Good. Well, goodbye Chicha. It was good to talk to you. Take care of yourself."

I hung up the phone and passed it back to Curt the lifeguard, who shook his head in disbelief. "You're the last person in the world I expected to say something like that," he said. He held out his hand and I shook it, his grip strong and respectful. "You must have had a recent change of heart."

"You could say that," I replied. "You could say I found my angel, and she's shown me the error of my ways."





Chapter 17





Krystal





It was my turn to wait at the baggage claim at O'Hare, while outside a late summer storm was blowing through town, soaking everything in sight. Thankfully there was no lightning or heavy winds, and from the last I'd been able to see, Julian's flight was going to land on time. I'd come in my car, I actually did have one, I just rarely used it. However, I knew Julian was going to have clothes and baggage, and I didn't want to struggle with that in a cab or on public transportation.

When the board changed and Julian's US Air flight went from on time to landing, I almost shrieked in excitement. The weekend at Alinea had been good, but I didn't care. I wanted to see my Julian, and the longer I went without him, the worse it got. The night before, at jiu-jitsu, Kimberly had ragdolled me I was so distracted, and I pretty much got my ass handed to me by everyone I rolled with. I didn't care, although the bruise in my left calf muscle was giving me at least a small hitch to my step.

The traffic going into Chicago on a Tuesday morning is pretty light compared to the weekends, so I could see Julian as soon as he came out of the secure area of the airport. I ran and threw my arms around his neck, kissing him even as other passengers flowed around us like water. I'm sure some of them bumped into Julian, but he was so strong I didn't feel them at all. "I missed that," he said softly once our lips parted. "I've been dreaming about that for four days."

"Me too," I replied. I looked around, and then cocked my head. "Where's your bags? I thought you'd be coming back with a few suitcases at least."

"Oh, they're coming, but I'm having them shipped here," Julian said. "When I got there, I realized that I just had so much crap in that apartment that I could have filled our place three times over and still had more. So, I picked out what I wanted for Chicago, packed it up and arranged for it to be shipped. The rest I donated to Goodwill, except for a few things I left there just in case we go back to Los Angeles for a vacation or something. The penthouse is my dad's, after all. It's not like it's going to be rented out or anything."

"Donated to Goodwill? Julian, did you really donate a lot of your clothes there? I've seen pictures of how you dressed in LA, you walked down the street in Gucci. Just how much of that did you donate?" The image of a homeless person or somebody who needed Goodwill rocking Dolce Gabana or Ralph Lauren gear from Julian made me want to laugh out loud.