“So, I have to tell my mom and Trace, huh?”

                “Only if you want to have an open relationship. You don’t have to do anything. Well, except for give me piggy back rides.”

                Zeke laughed, but I could see how nervous he was. We were sitting in his room together on his bed. He had his arm around me and I had my head on his shoulder comfortably.

                “I’m worried more about Trace than my mom. My mom may seem like a complete bitch, but she’s not homophobic at all. I think she’ll accept me fairly easily. Trace? Not so much. And he’s my best friend. I know he’s an ass, but I really don’t know what I’ll do if he doesn’t accept me,” he said miserably.

                I took Zeke’s hand in my own and kissed his cheek. “Hey, come on! If he’s really you’re best friend, he’ll accept you no matter what,” I assured him.

                He smiled softly and swung around to kiss me on the lips. He got up and I copied him. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair nervously.         

                “You should leave. I’m going to tell my mom, and I kind of want to do it alone. No offense; it’s just something I have to do.”

                I nodded in understanding. I had wanted to be alone when I told my mom, too. Though I had been positive my mom was going to accept me when I told her. She loved me too much not to.

                I kissed Zeke deeply before hugging him. “Good luck,” I whispered and he hugged me back. “Thanks Kory. I’ll call you tonight and let you know how everything went. I won’t tell Trace until tomorrow. I…I want to tell him alone too,” he whispered.

                I nodded and kissed him again before waving and leaving his house. I sighed and made my way back home, hoping everything went well for Zeke. Poor guy.

                I blushed when I saw Trace in the front yard. He had set up cones and was dribbling through them, practicing his dribbling and speed skills. His shirt was off and sweat was on his body, turning me on for some reason.

                I looked away quickly before I had mini me popping up to say hello. What an awkward moment that would be to have to go through with my homophobic stepbrother.

                I made my way up the driveway, hoping Trace wouldn’t talk to me. He looked so, so sexy right now. ZEKE. Think Zeke, Kory. He was your boyfriend. Not Trace. Trace was your stepbrother. Get that straight in your head, mister!

                “Kory!”

                DAMN.

                I winced and spun to face Trace as he panted and picked up the soccer ball. He rolled it to me and began to pick up the cones in the yard.

                “Put that in the garage and hand me my shirt,” he growled.

                I tossed the soccer ball in the garage and grabbed Trace’s shirt off the front porch. I walked over to him and tried not to blush as I handed it to him. He wiped his forehead with it and shoved past me.

                I pouted and followed him through the garage into the house after he set the cones down. Trace grabbed a glass out of the kitchen and glanced at me.

                “Want a drink?” he asked, his voice emotionless.

                I shrugged and nodded. He grabbed another glass and handed it to me before pouring both of us lemonade. We drank in an awkward silence.

                I really wished he would put a shirt on. I was having thoughts that a taken boy really shouldn’t have about someone that is not his boyfriend.

                “Why were you at Zeke’s?” Trace asked, shocking me. He watched me closely, a glare making its way onto his face.

                “We had a threesome with his mom,” I said with a wink.

                Trace made a disgusted face and shook his head. “You are such a faggot. I was being serious. What were you doing at Zeke’s house?”

                I laughed and shrugged. “We just hung out. What, I can’t hang out with Zeke?” I asked, faking hurt.

                “He’s my best friend,” Trace said flatly. “Not yours.”

                Yea, he was a little more than my best friend…

                But sheesh, someone was a jealous hottie. It’s not like I meant to take Zeke from him! Zeke just happened to be adorable…and have a crush on me…Yea! I didn’t hold a gun to his head and say “ZEKE LOVE ME!” I wasn’t that creepy yet!

                “Aw! You’re adorable with your jealousy!” I gushed, poking him in the chest as I spoke.

                “I’m not jealous!” he cried defensively and smacked my hand away from him. I gave him a knowing grin and he glared at me. “I’m not!” he repeated furiously.

                “Sure,” I said, barely managing to contain my laughter. Aw! He was so adorable when he went all jealous-mode over his best friend!

                “Shut up Kory!” he snapped as I coughed to hide a slight laugh. I just continued to give him that knowing grin. He clenched his fists tightly. “Shut up before I hit you,” he growled dangerously.

                “TRACE IS JEALOUS! TRACE IS JEALOUS!” I exploded and laughed violently, jumping up and running away before he could strangle me.

                Trace got up and stormed after me, trying to catch me and rip my throat out as I continued to scream that he was jealous.

                After Trace nearly caught me, I realized I should probably try to hide before he really did kill me. I snapped my mouth shut and zoomed around the living room, flying into the kitchen and hiding behind the counter as Trace rushed past.

                I listened hard as he paused, looking around for me. I listened as he crept up the stairs, probably thinking I was hiding in my room where I could lock the door. Psh! As if. I knew Trace could pick the lock with little effort.

                I crept out of my hiding place and slowly made my way to the basement. I shut the door silently and flicked on the lights, looking down. All my time here and I had yet to go into the basement.

                I went down the stairs, listening for any sign of Trace. He would search for me once he realized I wasn’t upstairs.

                I grinned as I saw a little playhouse at the bottom of the stairs. I imagined a little Trace playing in, maybe with a girl, pretending they were married, and couldn’t help the giggle that escaped my mouth. I slapped my hand over it and glanced nervously at the door as I slunk around to the back part of the basement.

                There two couches, a rocking chair, and a TV here along with an old drum set and an electric guitar. I went over to examine them and froze as I heard the sound of the basement door opening.

                My heart slammed and I looked around desperately, jumping into a little closet and quietly shutting the door. I peeked out as Trace appeared, looking around carefully, anger clear on his face.

                “Kory, I know you’re down here. The light wasn’t on before, you idiot!” he called.

                The light! Dammit; why didn’t I think of that?! Aw man. I was going to die down here! Trace would kill me and stuff my body in the wall. Or in that little playhouse.

                The image of him playing in that as a little kid rose in my mind again and I slapped my hands over my mouth. Oh no! Giggles, be gone! This was so not going to end well.

                I managed to fight away my giggles and slowly brought my hands down away from my mouth. I smiled to myself when I saw Trace sigh in annoyance and turn to go back up the stairs.

                Then, of course, my stomach felt the need to growl. And not quietly, either.

                Trace spun around and instantly walked over to the closet. I gripped the handle tightly as he grabbed it and tried to yank the door open.

                “Kory! Open this!” he snapped.

                “No one’s home! You’re hearing things! Go get mental help!” I cried and held the door closed desperately. Maybe he would get tired and go away.

                He managed to pull the door open slightly. “I’M NAKED YOU PERV!” I screamed and pulled it shut again.

                “Kory! Open the damn door so I can kill you!”

                “Yea, because that makes me want to open it!”

                “Just open the door!”

                “Are you jealous that you can’t get it open?”

                Ah shit. Why did I say that? Trace let out a frustrated growl and pulled the door open so hard that I couldn’t help but tumble out and onto him.

                We fell to the ground together, Trace ever so kindly breaking my fall. Aw, what a nice stepbrother!

                I looked down at Trace, lying on top of him on the ground. Our eyes met and I couldn’t breathe. He was so, so beautiful. So sexy and attractive. My body on his felt right and comfortable. Time had seemed to crawl to a stop as we laid, staring into each other’s eyes. Even Trace had stopped struggling now.

                The doorbell rang and snapped us out of it. Trace glared. “Get off me!” he snapped furiously and reach out to hit me. I jumped off of him and gave him a sweet smile. “Thanks for breaking my fall!” I called over my shoulder as I launched up the stairs, slamming the door and rushing to the front door.

                I pulled it open as I heard Trace make his way upstairs. I jumped behind Zeke as Trace entered the front hall and glared at me, murder in his eyes.

                “Zeke, protect me!” I screamed and coward behind him in the most manly way possible.

                Zeke laughed and stepped next to me, slinging an arm around my waist and glancing at Trace in amusement.

                “Come on Trace; don’t kill my boyfriend!” he said and laughed again. But then his eyes widened and he snapped his mouth shut, realizing what he had just said.

                Trace froze and stared between the two of us, shock clear on his gorgeous face. “Your…what?” he whispered.

                Zeke laughed awkwardly and nervously ran a hand through his hair, his other arm still around my waist. He pulled me closer and nodded.

                “Yea, uh, Trace, Kory and I are dating. Yesterday in the pool…” he trailed off and cleared his throat as Trace stared at him in complete confusion. “But Zeke…You’re…” Trace struggled for words, his face deathly pale.

                “I’m gay, Trace. I just told my mom and she’s okay with it. I came over to here to talk to you about it. I couldn’t wait any longer. Please…don’t hate me,” Zeke whimpered.

                Trace stared at Zeke and I for what felt like forever, his expression showing us that he couldn’t quite seem to comprehend his best friend’s words. But there was something else in his eyes now. An emotion I couldn’t quite read but would pin most closely to, well, jealousy. But that couldn’t be right!

                …Could it?

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A.N.- Do you guys think Trace is jealous? ;D

Oh, and Happy Easter to anyone who celebrates :)