“Well, it’s not like I can just drop the bi-bomb on them and start parading my stepbrother around the house after we just screwed eight ways to Sunday,” I retort in frustration. “The entire house would think I lost my damn mind.” I realize my mistake as soon as I look back at the screen, finding both of them gaping at me like I’d just been speaking in tongues. “I’m so fucking sorry. You just said stepbrother,” Quinton nearly screeches. Shit.
