Christie

It took me a whole minute to come to, maybe a little more than that. I felt like I was back in high school, in the boys' locker room, watching two hot football players change. Only I was standing in my father's old farmhouse, and they were my brothers—well, stepbrothers. The distinction was important.

"Are you okay, Christie?" My father's wife had stepped forward, peering at me with a look of concern on her face.

"What?" My voice was an inaudible gasp.

I stared at my father, who also ...