Stepbrother Soldier: A Forbidden Military Romance Novel Read Online Free

getting better, though. For
example, I no longer spent hours in front of the mirror trying to find which
parts of my face looked most similar to my mother’s. I no longer cried in the
shower. I no longer felt compelled to spend entire days in bed or, worse,
staring out the window at the clothesline, which my mother would never use
again.

 
    The Admiral was, predictably, thrilled. And, since we were twenty
minutes from town, we ended up spending a lot of time together. At least, more
time than we ever used to. We had dinner together most nights, and would even
watch TV afterward. We were, probably, the only two people on earth who missed
my mother as much as we did, so being around each other had its own strange
comfort.

 
    We could talk about her, tell each other stories, laugh about her
little habits and the things that used to drive us crazy. Sometimes, his eyes
would water. I gained new respect for him: he’d never been very affectionate
with her, at least not in public or when anyone could be watching, but he
really had loved her. Of course, even then, now that I look back it, there were
things I could have noticed…but I don’t want to get ahead of myself. It’s hard
enough trying to summarize that time after my mother’s passing, all that
happened. I need to take it slow.

 
    Ashton was like a ghost in the house. I would catch sight of him
sometimes slipping into his bedroom or in the kitchen, but we rarely spoke and
barely even made eye contact most times. He had this cold, frozen energy around
him that chilled me to the bone whenever we were within a few feet of each
other.

 
    Mostly, the only way I really knew Ashton was even living at home was
because he didn’t sleep. Or, at least, he didn’t ever seem to sleep. I’d hear
him walking around at all hours of the night, could often hear music playing
from his room at 3am while I stumbled to and from the bathroom. In that first
month or so of being home, I never saw the light from under his door turn off.

 
    I also knew he was around because our trash was always full of empty
cans of beer and cigarette ashes. My mother would never have allowed anyone to
smoke in our house, but I assumed she made an exception when Ashton came home.
Either that, or he figured that now she was gone so no one would mind. And I
didn’t mind, really; I mean, it’s not like I could smell it from my room. But I
didn’t like the idea of someone smoking in my mother’s house all the same. It
just didn’t seem right.

 
    The Admiral and I would occasionally talk about Ashton. Not “talk”
talk, but he would come up in conversation. The Admiral said that it was just
who Ashton was, that he had always been very private and not very social. I
wasn’t so sure about that. I mean, we’d spent a lot of time together all those
years ago, and he’d been a completely different person.

 
    And the pictures of Ashton that were around the house showed a
smiling, happy-looking boy at parties, mountain biking with friends, and scuba
diving on vacation. He looked normal and vibrant in the pictures, nothing like
the pale, secretive man who I came to think of as lurking around the house. He
still looked good, don’t make that mistake. He must have been working out in
his room, because he was fit as could be, with biceps that just begged to be
held.

 
    Eventually, after a month of living in the house, I decided to try and
approach him. After all, we didn’t need to be strangers, and I was lonely. I
didn’t have any friends in town, and I was kind of dying to have someone my age
to talk to. I figured he must feel at least a little bit of the same. Why not
make the best of the weird situation and try to be friends? We’d been friends
once before, and I was sure we could be, again.

 
    So, one morning, when the Admiral was in town and I was downstairs
getting a glass of milk, I was happy to run into Ashton in the kitchen.

 
    “Good morning,” I said, trying to sound