Kade

Luke eventually tossed his hoodie to his sister so she could cover up. Although she was clearly on the verge of dying from sheer embarrassment, she looked relieved after quickly zipping up the hoodie.

Even with the hoodie, she stood out like a sore thumb next to her friends.

I knew it's been warmer these days, and they were dressed appropriately for the conditions inside the stadium, too. All three wore either long-sleeve t-shirts and shorts or short-sleeve shirts and long pants. May, on the other hand? She looked like she'd accidentally wandered out of a Hudson boutique ad. Rich-girl chic, but the knock-off version. Like Vegas, if Vegas had a dress code.

So of course, she had the whole stadium watching her without even trying.

A week had passed since the first announcement of this minor change to our schedule. The rest of that week, Coach kept his word-like the sadistic psycho he was-and made me and the idiots I call friends work on the ice like nobody's business. My shoulder was still stiff from the constant practice shots.

A few media majors had been assigned projects, and this group chose the ice hockey team as their guinea pigs. Something about making a documentary.

So here we were, the team -sweaty, tired, still in our practice gear- sitting in the bleachers while the media majors explained how we were basically about to become their science experiment.

"Why have you been keeping your sister a secret, man?" Jordan Styles, Grant calls him Harry for obvious reasons, slapped an arm over Luke's shoulder. "I could've been your brother-in-law by now."

Luke barely suppressed a laugh. "First of all, get your arm off me. Second, I didn't keep her a secret; none of you asked." He shrugged, looking unbothered. I scoff, having known Luke since we were old enough to pick up hockey sticks, I've also gotten to learn that as much as he's close with his twin sister, he wasn't necessarily overprotective of her but still warned assholes to not mess with her.

Jordan blinked, eyes widening in mock seriousness. "Then do I have your permission to ask for her hand in marriage?" He grabbed Luke's hand in an over-the-top gesture.

"Fuck off." Luke yanked his hand away, and the guys laughed at Jordan's dramatic proposal.

I notice Dylan tense and fidget ever so slightly in his seat. My stepbrother to me was the most predictable person ever, mostly because he easily displayed his emotions. The walking definition of 'wearing his heart on his sleeve'.

He was jealous.

Then Grant, bless his deranged soul, leaned forward. "Is it just me, or if we could get a wig and slap it on Willson's head, he'd strangely look just as hot as she does? But with more muscle?" Grant asked bluntly. Everyone, including Dylan, turned to him.

"You concern me, Nelson," Luke said, shaking his head. Grant just blew him a kiss.

Before anyone else could one-up that disaster, a voice with an accent sharp enough to cut glass sliced through the chatter. "If we could have your attention, please," Rosa Alonso's heavy accent cut through the chatter. She reminded me of a younger Sofía Vergara.

"We asked your coach if we could film you guys on and off the ice," the only guy among the group said.

"We'll conduct interviews too," Maggie Miller added, flipping her notebook like she was already ready to psychoanalyze us.

"With your consent, of course," May said quickly, "But we'd really appreciate it if you all participated. You have the right to tell us to back off if any questions get too personal."

"Which is why," Maggie shot May a quick, almost comical glare before turning back to us with a polite smile, "You'll get to review the questions before we start filming."

Drew was the first to raise his hand. "Yes?"

"Will you be uploading it on the internet?" Drew asked almost sheepishly.

Rowan grimaced as if he'd bitten into something bitter. "Who the hell says 'internet' like that anymore?"

"I was nervous, okay?" Drew mumbled, causing the rest of us to snicker.

May answered, "Nope, only the lecturer will watch it."

"The group with the highest score on the assignment wins bragging rights, and our documentary will be shown in class," Rosa said, smirking like she'd already claimed the prize.

Grant raised his hand and then remembered he wasn't supposed to ask. He turned to me. "Ask if they'll be filming us like The Office."

I gave him a look so flat it could iron a shirt. "I'm not asking that." But I did have a few questions of my own.

"Any questions?" May asked as I raised my hand. Her irritation was almost palpable.

"Yes?" I could almost smile in joy at the forced polite tone in her voice when she addresses me.

"Can we ask you some of our own-"

She cut me off. "If you're not going to ask anything appropriate, I suggest you-"

I chuckled cutting her off this time, leaning back in my seat. "I wasn't finished. Get your mind out of the gutter."

May's jaw dropped. "That wasn't what I-"

"Enough games, Brown. Ask your damn question," Coach snapped, clearly annoyed.

Alright, Coach was in one of those moods today.

"As I was saying before being so rudely interrupted..." I think of shooting her a grin, but I resisted the urge to mess with May again, focusing instead on the matter at hand. "Can we ask you some personal questions too?"

May crossed her arms over her chest. "That's not exactly how this works."

"Then how is that fair to us?"

Before she could answer, Maggie jumped in. "As we said before, it's your choice if you don't wish to answer any personal questions."

Ignoring her, I leaned forward, resting my forearms on my knees and giving May a challenging look. "Then how's it fair?" I pushed, "You get to dig into our lives, but we can't ask back?"

Just as I predicted, May Willson raised her chin confidently but surprised me when she said, "Like Maggie said, don't answer questions if you don't want to." 

"Any other questions?" the guy, Sam I think that's his name asked, clapping his hands to regain attention.

Jordan raised his hand. "I have a serious question for the girl who looks like the female version of Willson but much prettier."

Luke shook his head. "Dude, give it a rest," he said, pinching the bridge of his nose.

Ignoring everyone else, Jordan pressed on. "Do you have a boyfriend?" The guys drummed their hands on the seats in front like a drumroll, waiting for her answer.

I saw May glance at Dylan before looking back at Jordan. She sighed deeply.

"Next question," she deflected smoothly. This pattern continued for a few more minutes, some guys genuinely interested, others flirting, until Coach called us back onto the ice for another gruelling hour of practice.

***

After practice, I was scrolling through my emails, hoping to see the one I'd been desperately waiting on, yet I find none. Sighing I continue my way to my car when I heard someone call my name.

I looked up from my phone and saw Dylan jogging toward me, his duffle bag nearly falling off his shoulder, hair damp with sweat.

The look on his face nearly made me roll my eyes. The face he always wore when he was about to give me a damn lecture. "What the hell was that back there?"

It wasn't a question, but it was said as one. Dylan wasn't usually quick to anger, which just reinforced my previous theory.

I shrugged casually, slipping my hands into my pockets. "You're going to have to be more specific, bro." I loved Dylan like a real brother, but sometimes, like right now, I had to remind him that we weren't.

He frowned and jabbed a finger at my chest. "You know exactly what I'm talking about."

I narrowed my eyes. "I wasn't the one asking her if she had a boyfriend." I scoffed. "And it's not my fault she said she doesn't have one."

"Yeah, but you embarrassed her several times." He looked frustrated and slightly pissed, but not at me, at himself.

"And remind me how many times you stood up for her in those situations?" I asked, stepping closer. If he wanted to fight me because he was too cowardly to deal with his own issues, he'd forgotten who the hell I was. I wasn't a violent guy, but I was tired of his crap by now.

His expression softened slightly before guilt flashed in his eyes, then disappeared. "Why do you insist on being such a dick to her?"

I shrugged nonchalantly, taking a few steps back, signalling the end of the conversation. "Ever considered that maybe she's the one being a dick to me?" I didn't wait for his response as I turned toward my car. Before I opened the door, I glanced over my shoulder at my stepbrother.

"Oh, and Dylan?" I called out.

"What?" He asked letting his arms fall to his side.

"Next time, ask someone else to lie and cover for you. I don't like lying to Luke." I left him with that and saw him in my rearview mirror, burying his hands in his hair before sulking off.