Stepbrother Bad Boy's Baby Boxed Set(56)

Kim held her tongue, and nodded. "All right then, so what are we going to do on our day off? I've got no projects that can't be put off until tomorrow, and I'm not letting you sulk and brood around this apartment all day. You're no fun when you're broody."

I knew she was serious, and I thought about it for a bit. "Wanna grab our gi's and get an extra training session in?" I asked. "I'm feeling the urge to work off a lot of angry energy. Hell, I'm feeling lethal, honestly."

Kim smiled. "That's the spirit! Tell you what, go shower and get your stuff while I make a few phone calls, and you can run me over to my place in your car. We're splurging today, no mass transportation for us. And after that, we're getting chocolate and Mexican food."

"Okay, sounds good. I'll be ready in fifteen minutes." I headed off into my shower, rubbing the exhaustion from my body vigorously. Have you ever seen the old musical South Pacific? Mom took to it once, and there's a song from it, with the line "I'm gonna wash that man right out of my hair." I didn't really like most of the musical, but that song, yeah, they got it pretty right. Lathering and working the shampoo through my long black hair helped a ton, and I came out of my bedroom only five minutes late, but feeling about a thousand times better.

Kim was nodding and talking on her cell phone with someone when I came out. "Yes. I'm surprised you guys didn't see that yourselves. Yes. Okay. I know, I'm just telling you because I can't do anything on my end. Okay. Thanks. Good-bye."

"Who was that?" I asked, as Kim put her phone into her backpack. I had my jiu-jitsu bag ready to go, and was dressed simply in a t-shirt and shorts. "Business?"

"Yeah, kind of," Kim replied. "Let's go."

The jiu-jitsu gym I train at is pretty famous, having produced multiple black belts and quite a few high level competitors on the national and even world stage. That morning, the instructor was Roberto, one of the older Brazilians who had helped found the gym back in the late 1990's. Kim and I arrived only two minutes late, so we didn't miss anything as he walked everyone through the setups for the leg locks he wanted us to drill and work on. Honestly when it came time to partner off, I felt bad for the guy I worked with. I mean, is it fair to work with a woman when the name of the maneuver is called the "banana split" and the variation called "make a wish?"

About a half hour into class, the rolling practice started. This sort of controlled sparring is what I love about jiu-jitsu class, as each time you change opponents, you're faced with a new set of problems, a moving chess game that requires brand new adaptations to new challenges. And that day, I was keyed up, and had a lot to work off my mind. I was a lot more aggressive than normal, in the end even catching one of our brown belts by surprise and getting him face down on the mat, rear mounted and more or less rubbing his face into the surface when the bell denoted the end of the round.

After practice, Kim did everything she could to make the whole day a girl's day out. Twice her phone buzzed with text messages, which she quickly checked then replied to before putting her phone away, but other than that, she was totally committed to getting me out of my funk. I'll be honest, by six that evening I was feeling pretty good. She'd even talked me into cooking dinner for the two of us at my place. "Hey, you may currently be unemployed, but that doesn't mean you have to let your skills dull," she joked as she pushed the cart around. So I'm going to sit back, use my laptop to do some surfing and stuff, while you plop yourself in your kitchen and whip me up some five star quality grub."

"Michelin only rates up to three stars," I said, grabbing a box of couscous. "I regret befouling my heritage by using this junk, but I don't have any of the good stuff at home, and I doubt you want me to spend an hour steaming it the proper way if we can find it. I know we can't find the Turkish variety."

"Nope, instant is fine with me," Kimberly replied. "I mean, I still use Minute Rice at home."

I rolled my eyes at her good humored culinary blasphemy, and we checked out, carrying out over a hundred dollars in fresh ingredients. It was enough food for ten people, but I was grateful that Kim was letting me indulge. I put the bags in the back of my car and drove home, parking underneath the building as I normally did. Taking the elevator up to the lobby, I was shocked when I saw Julian standing there, waiting for me.

"What are you doing here?" Kim said, stepping forward aggressively, a plastic bag filled with lamb brisket in her hand. She looked like she was ready to beat him with it.

"Please, I... I just want to talk," Julian replied, his face sorrowful but still determined. His skin was a dark, angry red, like he'd been severely sunburned, and there were patches starting to peel from around his forehead. "Just hear me out."

Kim looked at me, then at him, then back at me. "What do you want to do?"

I sighed and nodded to Julian. "Come on up. I'm making dinner."



* * *



Julian



I stood as crammed into the corner of the elevator as I could while on the way up. I hadn't meant to surprise Krystal, but I figured that just going into the apartment itself would have been wrong, so I'd waited in the lobby when she didn't answer her phone. As it was, Kim still stared daggers at me the whole way, standing in between us like a bodyguard.