The Stepbrother’s Dare 1

Emma’s apartment was a fortress of order with a sanctuary of textbooks stacked neatly on her desk, and fairy lights casting a soft glow over her meticulously organized notes. 

At 22, she thrived on control. Her college assignments were submitted early, her coffee order never deviating from a black Americano. 

She sat cross-legged on her couch, laptop balanced on her knees, typing at an essay on post-modern architecture when the door swung open without a knock.

Jake walked in, all swagger and leather jacket, his dark hair falling just shy of his eyes. 

At 24, her stepbrother was chaos personified, the kind of guy who’d ride a motorcycle through a thunderstorm and call it a good time. 

Five years of shared family holidays and forced small talk didn't dull the edge between them and his cocky grin still set her teeth on edge, and she knew she got under his skin just as much.

“Still glued to that screen, huh?” Jake lazily said as he leaned against the doorframe, his arms crossed. “You ever gonna live a little, Em?”

She didn’t look up, fingers still flying over the keyboard. “Some of us have actual responsibilities, Jake. Not everyone can survive on charm and bad decisions, so please...”

“Responsibilities?” Jake chuckled low, stepping closer to kick off his boots with a thud. “You’re 22, not 40, Em. Tell me, when’s the last time you did anything that got your blood pumping?” 

Emma’s fingers paused, her hazel eyes flicking up to meet his. That damn grin of his was wider now, daring her to bite back. 

She scoffed, and replied, “I’m plenty alive, thanks,” she said, voice sharp. “I don’t need to crash a bike or whatever you do for fun to prove it.”

Jake’s gaze roamed her apartment, landing on the tidy shelves, the planner pinned to the wall with color-coded sticky notes. 

“This place screams ‘wild child,’” he teased, then dropped onto the couch beside her. “Bet you’ve never even snuck into a bar. You're incredibly boring.”

Her jaw tightened since he wasn't wrong, and that pissed her off. Emma had spent her college years building a perfect GPA, not chasing thrills. 

But the way Jake looked at her like she was predictable lit a fuse she didn’t know was there. 

She slammed her laptop shut. “Fine. You think I’m boring? Like I’m some predictable little good girl? Give me a dare, then.”

His eyes lit up and he sneered. “Alright, hotshot. I dare you to follow me to the Vault.”

Emma frowned. “What’s that?”

He chuckled, shaking his head at her amusing question. “Well, it’s the hottest, legendary club in the city and no one gets in without a connection or a fake ID. Sneak in with me tonight, and I’ll never call you boring again.”

“Club?” She asked, looking away, lost in thought.

Jake sneered. “It’s known as the kind of place where rules go to die. You can call it dangerous but it’s also very exciting. You dare?”

“You’re insane,” she told him, thinking twice about leaving the house to a loud place.

Jake leaned closer, his grin wicked. “Scared you’ll like it too much?”

She glared, her defiance flaring. “Get me the ID. I’m in.”

An hour later, Emma stood in front of her mirror, barely recognizing herself. The tight black dress she was wearing hugged her curves, its hem daringly high, her dark hair loose in waves instead of her usual ponytail. 

She felt exposed like she’d shed a skin she hadn’t realized was too tight. 

‘I’m going to a club with my stepbrother?’ she thought, still feeling a bit uncomfortable. ‘Wait til my friends here this.’

Jake’s knock came again, and when she opened the door, his gaze stayed on her unapologetically, tracing the lines of her dress. 

For a moment, he didn’t speak, and the silence was heavy.

“Damn, Em,” he finally said, voice rougher than usual. “You clean up dangerous.”

She rolled her eyes, ignoring the heat creeping up her neck. “Save it. You got the ID or not?”

He held up a sleek card, his fingers brushing hers as he passed it over. The touch was fleeting, but it sent a jolt through her, their eyes locking for a beat too long.

Her pulse hammered, and she shook her head, quickly looking away, mentally scolding herself at the unexplainable feeling she was having.

She pulled her hand back, clutching the ID like a lifeline.

“Let’s go, you reckless bastard,” she said, brushing past him to hide her burning cheeks.

The city streets were alive with neon signs buzzing in electric blues and pinks, and Emma’s heels clicked against the pavement as she kept pace with Jake, his long strides eating up the sidewalk. 

She had never been out at night before or tried anything risky and somehow, she liked the little difference.

“You’re blushing already,” Jake teased, glancing at her as they dodged a group of laughing clubgoers. “We haven’t even gotten to the good part.”

“I’m not blushing,” she shot back, though her cheeks burned. “I’m just wondering how you haven’t gotten your ass thrown in jail with that ego.”

He laughed, the sound warm and infuriating. “Reckless is more fun than playing it safe, Em. You’ll see.”

She wanted to snap back, but the words caught in her throat. 

There was something magnetic about him tonight, the way his confidence filled the space around them, daring her to match it. 

She hated how much she wanted to. She hated how he get to live his life so freely while she kept herself locked to her books.

Still, everyone had a different path and graduating at the top of her class was her number one bucket list.

They turned into a narrow alley, the thump of bass growing louder, vibrating through the pavement. 

The Vault’s entrance was just ahead, a black door guarded by a bouncer whose stare could cut glass. 

Emma’s nerves tingled, anticipation and fear twisting together. 

She glanced at Jake, his eyes glinting with mischief, and for the first time, she felt like she was standing on the edge of something bigger than herself.

“Ready?” he asked, voice low, like he knew exactly what this moment meant to her.

She lifted her chin, heart racing. “Let’s do this.”