My Hockey Stepbrother’s Obesession

Lily. I'm sprawled across my bed at Dad's apartment, laptop balanced on my knees, reviewing footage from last week's practice. My triple lutz entry needs work, Coach Rivera won't stop harping on it. Three weeks until Regionals, and I can't afford a single mistake. My phone buzzes. Mom. Again. I decline the call for the third time in twenty minutes. Whatever she wants can wait until I finish analyzing this landing. The phone immediately starts ringing again. "For f**k's sake," I mutter, answering. "Mom, I'm busy. What?" "Lily! Finally!" Her voice is pitched high with excitement, borderline manic. "Honey, I have the most wonderful news! Can you come over? I need to tell you in person." I pull the phone away from my ear, staring at it. "Mom, I'm at Dad's this weekend. Custody agreement, remember?" A pause. "Oh. Right. Well, I'll just tell you now then." She takes a breath, and I can practically hear her bouncing. "I'm getting married!" The world stops. My laptop slides off my knees. I barely catch it. "You're WHAT?" "I know it seems sudden," she rushes on, "but Matthew is absolutely wonderful, honey. We've been dating for six months now, and when you know, you know, and—" "SIX MONTHS?" I'm on my feet now, pacing. "And you never thought to mention you were seeing someone? For half a f*****g year?" "Language, Lily. And you've been so busy with skating. After the divorce, you made it very clear you didn't want to hear about my personal life…" "Because you were a wreck! You cried for eight months straight!" My voice cracks. "Now suddenly you're getting married to some guy I've never even heard of?" "His name is Matthew Lucas. He's a sports medicine executive, very successful and kind. And actually, you might know his son. Dane? I believe you two go to Riverside High together." The phone slips from my hand. It hits the carpet with a muffled thud, but I can still hear Mom's voice, tinny and distant: "Lily? Lily, are you there?" Dane Lucas. Dane f*****g Lucas! I’m back on the ice, the memory from two years ago. Sophomore year. I had just landed a perfect triple axel—my first in competition and I was gliding backward, my arms raised in triumph, when something slammed into me from behind. The impact sent me sprawling. My ankle twisted beneath me as I fell, and I heard the snap before I felt it. I'd looked up from the ice, tears already streaming down my face from the pain, and there he was. Dane Lucas. Hockey captain. Arrogant prick. Standing over me with that infuriating smirk. "Oops," he'd said, not sounding sorry at all. "Guess you're not so perfect after all, figure girl." Six weeks in a boot. Three months of physical therapy. I missed my entire competition season. And now his father is marrying my mother. I pick up the phone with shaking hands. "Mom. No." "Lily, I know this is a lot to take in." "You don't understand. Dane Lucas is…he's…" How do I even explain? "We hate each other. He's the reason I missed sophomore nationals. He's a complete asshole, and you cannot marry his dad." "Lily Marie Martinez." Her voice goes cold. "I am not asking for your permission. I'm informing you as a courtesy. Matthew and I are getting married in three months, and we're all moving in together. His house is beautiful, you'll have your own room, your own bathroom…" "Moving in together?" My voice comes out strangled. "You're joking." "Matthew's house is twenty minutes closer to the rink. You'll actually save time on your commute to practice." She's using my skating against me. She knows I can't argue with proximity to the rink. "I have to go," I whisper, and hang up before she can respond. I stand there in the middle of Dad's guest room—my room on weekends and alternate Wednesdays trying to process. Dane Lucas is going to be my stepbrother. We're going to live in the same house. Share the same space. The same infuriating, gorgeous asshole who's tormented me for two years. Because that's the thing nobody knows, the thing I've never admitted to anyone: Dane Lucas is the hottest guy at Riverside High. Six-foot-two of pure athletic muscle, dark hair that's always perfectly messy, and these intense green eyes that seem to see right through you. Every girl at school wants him. Half the guys do too. And he's also the bane of my entire existence. My phone buzzes with a text from an unknown number. Unknown: “Hey Princess. Heard the good news.” My stomach drops. There's only one person who calls me that. Me: “How did you get my number?” Unknown: “Our parents are getting MARRIED, remember? Your mom gave it to me. Said we should "get to know each other better" before we become family.” I can practically hear the mockery in his voice. Unknown: “So when do I get to see your room? Since we'll be living together and all.” Me: “In your dreams, Lucas.” Unknown: “Oh, you're definitely in my dreams, Martinez. Want me to tell you about them?” My face flames. I threw my phone across the room like it burned me. It lands on the bed and immediately buzzes again. Against my better judgment, I retrieve it. Dane: “Kidding. Mostly. But seriously, dinner tomorrow night. Both families and Dad insist. Wear something nice. And try not to look like you want to murder me. Our parents are "in love" or whatever.” Me: “I'm not going.” Dane: “Yeah, you are. 7pm. Rossi's on Main. Be there or deal with both your mothers' guilt trips for the next three months.” He's right. I'm going to have to face this eventually. Me: “Fine. But I'm sitting as far away from you as possible.” Dane: “We'll see about that.” Three dots appear, like he's typing something else. They disappear. Reappear. Disappear again. Finally, a new message comes through. Dane: “For what it's worth? This is going to be fun.” Me: “You have a twisted definition of fun.” Dane: “You have no idea what I find fun, Princess. But you're about to find out. See you tomorrow night.” Then, one final message that made my heart stop: Dane: “And Lily? That little skating skirt you wear to practice? The black one? Yeah. I noticed.” I stare at my phone, my face burning, pulse racing. Dane Lucas noticed my skating skirt. Dane Lucas, who's about to become my stepbrother, has been watching me practice. And judging by the way my stomach just flipped, I'm in serious trouble.