A notification dings, the same one that lets you know you have a message.
Curiosity gets the better of me, and I click open the chat.
I wish I didn’t. Fucking hell, I wish I didn’t.
My heart stops in my chest, breath catching in my lungs, praying my eyes are deceiving me.
I stare at her gamer tag, reading it over and over again. Maybe it’s similar, maybe it’s not her.
After reading it about ten times, it’s clear it’s the exact gamer tag as hers. The same as my best friend. As the girl I’ve been gaming with for years and have fallen head over heels for.
The same girl I’ve been trying to build up enough courage to tell how I feel. To see if we could be something more outside this game.
Addison is my PastelPrincess. How the fuck am I in love with my stepsister?
I was nineteen when I found that out, and Addison was sixteen. After that day, I started distancing myself from Addie in real life. I let my brain separate the two, allowing myself to believe they were not the same person. I never confessed to PastelPrincess how I felt, but I continued to obsess over her.
I was a college hockey player, I could have been living my best life, hooking up at parties, enjoying the high and the power that being rich and popular that came with it.
But every time a girl hit on me, offered herself to me, I couldn’t do it.
All I could think of were big blue eyes and bright pink hair. After I developed feelings for PastelPrincess, I stopped messing around with other girls because she was the only girl I wanted.Stupid right? She was just some girl online and it shouldn’t have been so serious for me. But it was. She was funny, kind, sweet, and her voice... God, when she laughed it was music to my ears. I didn’t care what she looked like, I just wanted her for her.
When I discovered who she really was, I should have put a stop to all of that. I didn’t. Even after finding out she was my stepsister—the one person in this world I wasn’t allowed to have—I still lusted after her. The only difference was after I’d think of her, I’d feel bad about it.
Clicking on the group chat, I start to type.
FatalDe@thWish: Hey Princess. You playing tonight or streaming?
PastelPrincess: I’m not really feeling up for either.
My brows pull together. She’s got her mic off, and that's not like her. I guess there’s no point since the other guys aren't on and I’ve been avoiding the mic since Addie came back, too afraid she would recognize my voice.
FatalDe@thWish: You okay?
Is she still upset about earlier? I wouldn’t blame her, what her mother said was fucked.
PastelPrincess: I’m fine. Just didn’t have the best day.
FatalDe@thWish: Wanna talk about it?
We normally don’t get into personal stuff. It’s been a rule for us for years, but I know she went on a date with a pack her mother set her up with. When I found out, I nearly lost it right there and then. I wanted to demand she not go. To stay the fuck away from any other Alphas.
I didn’t. Instead, I let her go wearing that skin tight dress that hugged her killer body just right.
I was hard for hours, both anger and arousal pumping through my veins.
PastelPrincess: Just my mom. She’s a bitch. I hate her so much! She’s trying to set me up with a pack. I went on a date today and it was the worst. Don’t get me wrong, the guys were nice for the most part but I’m a big girl. I can order my own food.
FatalDe@thWish: They ordered for you?
PastelPrincess: Yup. And get this, it was a salad. No chicken or anything! I was so damn hungry after, I went and got Popeyes.
FatalDe@thWish: What the fuck? I’m sorry that happened to you. They’re jerks. You deserve so much better.
PastelPrincess: Thanks. I think the worst part was, when I told my mom, she said I could afford to lose a few pounds. Who says that to their kid!?
Anger bubbles inside me. She called her daughter fat? What the fuck is wrong with that bitch? God, If I didn’t already hate her, I’d sure as hell hate her now.
