Step Bros - Part 4

Everyone in this story is 18+

Cindy: "I'm breaking up with you."

I went back to the dorms and typed back.

"What? Why? I thought you loved me??"

And just like that, I burst out laughing for myself.

Still grinning, I continued typing.

"Lol, just kidding. But seriously Cindy, I don’t know what I would have done without you. You gave me the opportunity to figure out stuff on my own without getting daily questions about when I was gonna get a GF. You’re the best."

A second later, her reply popped up.

Cindy: "Babe, we are friends for life. Now enjoy college, be slutty. It’s time. Lol!"

I huffed another laugh, tucking my phone back into my pocket. Yeah. She was right. It was time to move forward, to let college be exactly what it was supposed to be—a fresh start.

Jax strolled in, spotting me instantly. "Nickyboy! Where’d you run off to?"

"Just got a text from Cindy," I admitted, leaning against the wall.

"Ahh, some naughty sexting? I can give you some privacy," he teased with a smirk, already turning on his heel.

"Nah, she broke up with me," I said, keeping my tone casual.

"What? Seriously? Damn, man, I'm sorry!" Jax spun back around and threw an arm over my shoulders in a dramatic, but oddly sincere, embrace. Jax could be a lot of things—loud, obnoxious, impossible—but sometimes, when it counted, he was actually a pretty good friend. Maybe even a brother. I wasn’t heartbroken—not even close—but it was still nice knowing he had my back.

Jax practically vibrated with excitement as he tugged off his shirt mid-sentence, already stripping down like it was second nature. "Dude, I cannot wait for this party tonight. So many hot chicas just waiting to meet the Jaxman!"

I rolled my eyes. "Did you just call yourself the 'Jaxman'? But yeah, yeah, I’m sure you’ll be drowning in admirers."

"Damn right! And you, my friend, will have a new girl in no time—with me as your ultimate wingman."

I scoffed, kicking off my shoes. "I think I’m good."

Jax ignored me. "Nah, man. Trust me. You just got out of a relationship. Best way to move on is to move on, you feel me?" He tossed his shirt onto his chair before shoving his thumbs into the waistband of his shorts.

"Dude. You are way too fucking comfortable," I said as he casually stripped down to his boxers, then, with zero hesitation, dropped them—ta-da, his dick and balls hanging low in the heat like he had no care in the world.

Jax just grinned, grabbing a towel and draping it lazily around his waist. "What? It’s hot, I’m all sweaty. You smell too."

I frowned, lifting an arm and taking a cautious sniff. "Fuck. You’re right."

Jax barked out a laugh, slapping me on the shoulder. "Told you. Let’s go get fresh for the ladies."

I grabbed my stuff and followed him to the showers—fully clothed, unlike Jax, who strutted down the hall in nothing but a towel like it was a fashion statement. The dorm showers had dividers, but that didn’t stop Jax from treating the place like his personal locker room, completely unbothered by modesty or personal space.

The moment I stepped under the spray, I felt a sharp snap on my ass as I covered up my dick. "Ow! What the fuck, Jax?"

He cackled, whipping his towel like a pro. "C’mon, Nickyboy, lighten up! Just making sure you’re awake."

"I will kill you."

"Love you too, bro."

He was all over the place—cranking up the water on my side, flicking suds at me, doing that annoying thing where he shook his wet hair like a dog and sprayed me with droplets. The guy had no shame.

"I can’t wait for tonight!" he said, running his hands through his wet hair. "Gonna get drunk, meet some hot girls, and—well, we all know how the night’s gonna end. And speaking of no shame—" he reached for his razor, grinning "—can’t be showing up anything less than perfectly groomed." Without hesitation, he propped a foot up on the bench and started shaving his nuts right in front of me.

I shook my head as I rinsed off my shampoo. "You really wanna be hungover on the first real day of classes?"

Jax scoffed. "Dude. It’s college. This is what college is all about—being alcoholic and a total fucking manwhore."

I shook my head, turning off the water. "At least you have goals."

Jax just grinned. "Damn right."

--- --- ---

After the shower, we made our way back to the dorm, towels slung over our shoulders, water still clinging to our skin. Jax, as usual, had no problem strutting back completely shirtless, towel draped low on his hips, while I at least had the decency to tie mine properly.

Back in the room, he dropped his towel without a second thought, rummaging through his dresser like it was no big deal. As he bent down, I couldn’t help but notice his hairy ass crack peeking out, completely unbothered. "Alright, time to get dressed for the night. You think I should go classic bro—tight tee, ripped jeans—or do I pull out the button-up, unbutton it halfway, and let the chest breathe?"

"Dude, just put some fucking underwear on first."

Jax smirked but didn’t rush. "What? You shy, Nickyboy?" He turned slightly, flexing in the mirror as he ran a hand through his damp, bleached blond hair—an impulsive decision from one of his FWB’s back home, done on a drunken dare, but somehow, he actually pulled it off. The golden strands contrasted against his darker roots, making his sharp jawline and tanned skin pop even more. His toned chest, still glistening from the shower, showed off the defined ridges of his abs, and the light sheen of water on his broad shoulders only emphasized his sculpted frame. The way he moved was effortless, a cocky mix of confidence and nonchalance, like he knew exactly how good he looked without ever having to try. His cockiness was infuriatingly natural, like he was born knowing he could get away with anything.

I sighed, turned away from him while yanking my own towel off and pulling on a pair of boxer briefs, pretending not to notice how casual he was about being naked. He always was. I should’ve been used to it by now.

"You’re taking way too long deciding what to wear," I said, pulling on my jeans. "It’s a party, not a goddamn fashion show."

Jax finally pulled on a pair of briefs—low-riding as usual—before grabbing a snug t-shirt. "Hey, man, first impressions matter. Especially when I plan on getting laid."

I rolled my eyes. "Right. Because every girl out there is waiting for the Jax experience."

"Damn right," he said, tossing a deodorant stick at me. "You might wanna freshen up too, bro. You never know what the night will bring."

I caught it, shaking my head but swiping it under my arms anyway. Jax was watching me through the mirror, still smirking. "You should unbutton your shirt more. Show off what you got."

I frowned, glancing down. "What the hell are you talking about?"

Jax stepped closer, reaching out to pop open another button on my shirt before I swatted his hand away. "Dude. Personal space."

He just chuckled, stepping back to inspect himself in the mirror again. "I’m just sayin’, you might wanna give people something to look at. Can’t have me stealing all the attention."

I exhaled, shaking my head. "You’re impossible."

Jax grinned, throwing an arm over my shoulder, our bare skin brushing briefly. "Nah, I’m the best damn wingman you’ll ever have."

With that, he grabbed his cologne, spritzed himself—way too much—and tossed it to me. "Let’s go get some numbers, little bro."

I scoffed, shoving him off. "I swear, if you call me ‘little bro’ one more time—"

Jax just laughed, grabbing his keys. "C’mon, party time!"

I shook my head as I followed him out. This night was gonna be something. That much was certain.

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