Smash:A Stepbrother MMA Romance

By: B. B. Hamel



How was that fucking possible?

Everyone was looking at me, and so I had to get my shit together pretty fast. I took a deep breath and pulled off my helmet, ignoring the girl for the time being.

But she clearly recognized me, because she looked like she had seen a ghost as soon as my face was visible to her.

She remembered me, then. Not a surprise considering how hard I had made her body come over and over, but still. It had been a long time, and I did look different. I was harder, darker, and stronger than the last time I had seen her.

When I shook her hand, I knew she was on the verge of passing out. Cindy quickly ushered everyone inside to have lunch, and as we moved toward the kitchen, Alex hung back.

I stared at her body, at the familiar curves, but most of all at her angry expression.

The girl was fucking pissed, and I had no clue why.

Sure, I fucked her and left, but that wasn’t my fault. I didn’t tell her about the training because what was the point? It was a vacation fling, and we both knew it. It was an absolutely batshit crazy coincidence that our parents had gotten married, but that sort of shit happened all the time. It wasn’t like I knew anything about it.

Except she looked like she was about to have a fucking heart attack.

“You know,” she said loudly, “I’ve always wanted to see a motorcycle up close.”

The group stopped walking. “Honey, can’t that wait?” her dad said.

“Why don’t you two get everything ready while Cole here shows me his bike?”

I grinned at her. What a fucking flimsy excuse. “Sure thing. It’d be my pleasure,” I said, overly formal.

My mother scowled. “Okay,” she said. “Make it quick.”

I followed Alex back out the front door. As soon as it shut, she whirled on me like a demon, spitting rage and fire from her eyes.

“Where the fuck have you been?”

I stared at her, completely taken aback by her fury. I’d had plenty of chicks get pissed when I didn’t call them back the next day, but this was something different.

“Good to see you too, princess,” I said.

“Don’t give me that shit, you asshole.”

I laughed. Her anger was comical in its intensity. “Look, I’m sorry I didn’t call. You know how things are.”

“No, you idiot, you jerk, you, you—”

“Asshole?” I finished.

“Yes, asshole!”

I laughed, shaking my head at her. “I know being with me is an experience, but you seem a little too angry.”

“It’s not that, you idiot! Don’t you know?”

I cocked my head at her, confused. “Know what? I’ve been in the damn jungle for the last year.”

She took a deep breath. “The jungle?”

“Training. I’m a fighter, remember? I haven’t had Internet, email, phone calls, or pussy since I last saw you.”

She looked at me silently for a second, still clearly fuming but getting herself slowly under control. “So you don’t know?” she asked.

“Did you have my baby or something?”

She rolled her eyes. “God, no. Thankfully.”

“Please. You’d be honored to have my kids.”

“Listen to me,” she said seriously. “Remember that wedding ceremony?”

“Sure,” I said, getting nearer to her. She reacted the way I remembered, like being close to me was a fucking drug. And honestly, it felt the same damn way to me. All the memories were rushing back all over again, but there she was, right in front of me, still as fucking sexy as I remembered. “But I’m more interested in what happened after.”

“No, listen. That ceremony was real.”

I laughed. Was she actually crazy or something? “No, it wasn’t. It was some stupid tourist thing.”

“Normally, yeah. But when I got home and tried to register to vote, I found out that I was legally married to some asshole I barely knew.”

She couldn’t be serious. She wanted me to believe that she and I were actually married, for real?

“There’s no way,” I said. “It was in Thailand. How would it be official here?”

“You dickhead,” she said, exasperated. “I’ve been dealing with this ever since I got back. Believe me, we’re really married.”

I stared at her for a long second and finally burst out laughing. It was the most hilarious and insane thing a girl had ever done to me, and I just couldn’t believe she was trying to pull it off. I had to admit that she was pretty impressive, but there was just no way I was married. Let alone to my new stepsister.

“Nice try,” I said, turning away. “Come on, let’s eat. I haven’t had a real meal in a fucking year.”

“Cole,” she said, still angry. “We chose the deluxe package. Remember that?”

I paused at the doorknob. “Sure, I remember.”

“But we didn’t get anything extra. Right?”

I nodded slowly. “Right.”

“Deluxe meant that it was real, not that it was anything special.”

I frowned at her for a second. Thinking back to it, I did find it strange that their special marriage package hadn’t come with any extras. But no, how could we even have known that? Maybe the deluxe package just meant the priest didn’t pass out drunk at the end.

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