No Strings Attached

Blake

My phone buzzed on my bed for the third time in less than an hour. I didn’t even need to look at the screen to know who it was.

I sighed and grabbed it anyway. “Ashley,” I said the second I answered, “if this is about him again, I swear—”

“Has he arrived yet?” she cut in, her voice already at a pitch that told me she was smiling way too hard.

I pressed the phone to my ear and stared at the ceiling. “No. And you’ve asked me that every thirty minutes since noon.”

“Well excuse me for being invested,” she said. “This is huge.”

“It’s really not,” I replied, rolling onto my side. “My dad got married. His wife moved in. Her son came with her. End of story.”

Ashley laughed like I’d just told the worst joke she’d ever heard. “Blake. You’ve seen him.”

Unfortunately, yes.

Jason Miller—my new stepbrother—had been burned into my memory since the day I’d stumbled across his social media profile. Jet-black hair, sharp jawline, golden eyes that looked like trouble even through a screen. The kind of guy teachers warned girls about and girls pretended not to listen to.

And now he lived in my house.

“I’m not discussing this,” I said. “Especially since I have a boyfriend.”

Ashley snorted. “That never stopped anything interesting from happening.”

“It stops this,” I snapped, though there was no real heat behind it.

She hummed thoughtfully. “Do you think he has a girlfriend?”

“I genuinely do not care,” I said, even though that wasn’t entirely true. “And neither should you.”

“That’s easy for you to say,” she replied. “You’re the one who has to see him every day.”

Exactly my point.

Ashley and I had been best friends since middle school—the kind of friendship forged in hallway confrontations and shared lunches. We met when I’d stepped in between her and a pair of girls who thought cornering her by the lockers would be funny. It wasn’t. Not for them.

Ashley had grown into herself since then. Lost the glasses, gained confidence, learned how to throw a look sharp enough to make people back off. Somewhere along the way, we became untouchable. Not popular in the glittery way—just respected enough to be left alone.

“Just promise you’ll call me after he gets there,” she pleaded.

I sighed. “Fine. I promise.” I hung up before she could push her luck and tossed my phone onto the bed.

Dad had made it very clear that today mattered. That this wasn’t just a move-in day—it was a fresh start. A new family.

So I tried to look the part.

I wrestled my curly red hair into something resembling tame and applied just enough makeup to look effortless without actually being effortless.

Mascara, lip gloss, a quick check in the mirror. Green eyes. Freckles. Same face I’d seen my whole life.

I looked like my mom.

She’d died 17 years ago giving birth to me. Dad used to say she was brave. Strong. Selfless. I used to think those words were beautiful. Now they just felt heavy.

Dad never remarried until Madeline.

She wasn’t what I’d expected. Not loud. Not fake. Not someone trying too hard to fit into our lives. She had her own money, her own career, her own quiet confidence. I liked her. I really did.

Her son, however, was another story.

I headed downstairs just as voices drifted from the living room.

They’d already arrived.

Madeline spotted me first and hurried over, pulling me into a hug before I could react. “Blake! I’m so happy we’re finally all together.”

I smiled for her sake. “It’s good to see you again.”

Then I turned.

Jason Miller was standing a few feet away, leaning casually against the arm of the couch like he belonged there. His gaze met mine—and didn’t move. Not from my eyes. Not from my face.

I crossed my arms instinctively. “Hi, Jason,” I said, keeping my voice neutral.

He smiled slowly, unapologetically. “Hey.”

The silence stretched just long enough to be uncomfortable. Then he stepped forward and pulled me into a hug like it was the most natural thing in the world.

I stiffened, then forced myself to return it.

His mouth brushed my ear. “You look good,” he murmured. “Those jeans should be illegal.” I froze.

I pulled away so fast I nearly tripped over my own feet and moved straight to my dad’s side.

“Jason,” Madeline said lightly, missing the tension completely, “why don’t you get settled?”

“Yeah,” my dad added. “Blake can show you around.”

I forced a smile. “I’d love to.” Jason grabbed his bag and walked ahead of me, glancing back with a wink like we shared a secret.

I followed him upstairs, already knowing one thing for certain—

Things had officially become complicated.