I Told My Stepbrother to Kidnap His Crush, So He Kidnapped Me Chapter 04

I Told My Stepbrother to Kidnap His Crush, So He Kidnapped Me Chapter 04

Like this.

I shuffled into the kitchen at 7:30 a.m., yawning.

Blake came in from the gym, shirtless in gray sweatpants.

Fresh from a workout, skin slick with sweat, catching the morning light.

I grabbed a carton of milk from the fridge. Before I could twist the cap, he took it.

“Don’t drink cold milk on an empty stomach.”

“…Fine.”

I asked, “Why are you finishing your workout so late?”

He was usually super regular.

Up at 6 a.m., workout for an hour, done by 7.

With my wake-up time, I never used to run into him.

But lately I kept seeing him in the mornings—either shirtless in gray sweats or in tight workout gear.

I couldn’t help feeling a little awkward.

Whatever. That’s gym clothes.

Blake opened the milk, drank it himself.

Then glanced at me. “Someone said I’m not fit enough.”

Ah. So that’s why he extended his workout time.

But who said that? His body was insane. Better than those heavily edited thirst traps online.

Still, he was working hard. I should encourage him.

“You got this,” I said.

That wasn’t all.

He started learning to cook.

We had a housekeeper who made meals. Why bother?

Maybe because he was smart. Once he committed to cooking, he got better than the housekeeper.

And as the one eating his food, I was thrilled.

I dug into his freshly made lemon pepper shrimp and asked, “So what made you want to learn to cook?”

He said, “Some people like a man who can cook.”

Fair point. Men should know how to cook. I like that too.

But something clicked.

I also remembered how he’d been buying new clothes, changing up his style every day like he was trying to find what worked.

And all the other weird stuff.

I put two and two together. “You like someone, don’t you?”

He gave me a long look. “You just noticed?”

I blinked. Was it weird that I hadn’t? It’s not like I stare at him all day. I have my own life.

I’d been crushing on a senior named Tyler and trying to decide whether to go for it.

Blake’s eyes went cold. “A senior?”

I nodded. “We met at a modeling competition. But forget that—who do you like? Do I know them? Have you asked her out yet? Tell me everything, I’ll give you advice!”

He loaded more shrimp onto my plate. “Eat.”

Now I was even more curious.

“Tell me tell me tell me. Where are you at?”

He sighed, probably annoyed. “Nowhere. She doesn’t like me back.”

“What?”

How was that possible? My hot, rich, amazing stepbrother?

He added, “She likes someone else.”

I asked, “Is he richer or hotter than you?”

Blake paused, thinking. Then, “No.”

Okay, then. Problem solved.

My old troublemaker instincts kicked in. I gave him terrible advice. “Just tie her up. Make her love you.”

With his stats? He was basically a romance novel hero. Those heroines always fall for the guy who kidnaps them.

I figured he would too. Because he really was perfect. Face, body, money. Good personality. Willing to learn to cook for his crush.

It wasn’t about the cooking, it was that he’d change for her.

Flawless!

She just hadn’t realized how great he was.

Lock her up and let the Stockholm syndrome do its thing.

Blake stared at me. “She likes someone else. She’ll hate me.”

Who cares? She’ll hate him into loving him.

That’s how the books go.

Besides, I egged him on. “Look, forcing it isn’t great. But if you don’t make a move, someone else will.”

He flicked my forehead. “Don’t give me bad ideas. I might actually listen.”

I insisted, “They’re not bad! They’re great!”

He tilted his head. “You really think so?”

I nodded hard. “Yes. Yes, I do.”

He smiled. “Okay.”

I’d successfully sold my terrible idea.

I got excited. “Go try it! And tell me everything when it works!”