4

Viana's pov

It was Emily, a friendly, amused glint in her eyes. She’d not only pointed me in the right direction but had walked me to my class, chatting easily the whole way about the best coffee on campus, which professors to avoid, and the unspoken rule of never wearing the school’s red color on game day unless you wanted to be spontaneously drafted onto a cheerleading squad.

That five-minute walk had blossomed into a full-blown campus tour and then a coffee run. By the end of the day, she’d decided we were friends, and I was too grateful to argue.

“So,” she said now, stealing a tomato from my salad even though she had a boatload of food right in front of her. “How’s life with the chosen one treating you? I heard the walls in your house are vibrating with divine energy this morning.”

I groaned, dropping my forehead to the table. “You heard that?”

“Honey, everyone on this side of campus heard that, well at least some of us. The news hasn't reached the rest of the masses cause if it had, you would not be sitting by yourself right now. My dad texted me to ask if Alvin was ‘psyching himself up for practice’ or if there was a structural emergency.”

“It’s a personal emergency called my sanity basically burning to ashes. ”I mumbled.

Emily grinned, not unkindly. “You’ll get used to it. He’s… a lot. But hey, cut him a little slack. He’s under a ton of pressure this season. My dad basically breathes fire down his neck every practice and it never stops. NHL scouts are already circling, and it’s only October. He is dick but a one with a lot weighing on him so I guess you should try and tune him out.”

I frowned, glancing across the room. Alvin was leaning back in his chair, holding court, tossing fries into his mouth like he didn’t have a care in the world. Pressure? He didn’t look like someone carrying weight. He looked untouchable and foolish trying to stuff a whole mega burger in his mouth. And girls found him attractive?

Emily followed my gaze. “Don’t let the cocky act fool you. It’s just armor. He is a good player, one of the best I’ve ever seen and I've been around this industry all my life. But it costs him. The expectations are insane.”

Before I could respond, a shadow fell over our table. Alvin. Of course. “Making friends sis?” he asked, his trademark smirk firmly in place.

I stiffened. “Don’t call me that.” Emily raised a brow, clearly amused by the dynamic.

“Relax, Monroe. I called dibs on her weeks ago. You're horning in on my friend time.”

Alvin’s gaze flicked from me to Emily, his smirk softening into something more genuine.

“Coach’s kid gets a pass. For now but next time she's mine.” His eyes landed back on me, teasing, challenging. “See you at home, sis.”

He walked off, and I let out a breath I had not realized I had been holding.

“Wow,” Emily whistled. “You two really are like siblings already. The sexual tension is… oh wait, no, that’s just pure, unadulterated loathing. My bad.”

I threw a crouton at her. “Shut up.”

She caught it mid air and ate it with a grin. "Look having an over protective brother is good. They help keep stupid guys away and you never have to do anything."

"You also have zero freedom just like you never had." I pointed out to her.

"Well I guess having seven older brothers seems like a life sentence—"

"Seems?"

"—but it was really fun and I rarely got in trouble because they would take the blame for me."

"Well Alvin is a put you in trouble kind of brother and not the type to get you out of it." I took a sip of my juice.

"Well you never know."

"Enough about that insufferable boy."

"You are right let's talk about other boys."

"Oh God." I groaned burying my head into my palms. How on earth did I end up with this girl.

"Hey stop cursing me in your head and listen to me. Do you know Mike has six packs? And they are surprisingly shiny."

******

After school, Emily dragged me toward the hockey rink. “You have to see a practice,” she insisted. “It’s basically a religion around here, and you need to understand the scripture if you’re going to survive.”

The rink was cold, the air sharp with the scent of ice, sweat, and stale popcorn. Alvin was already on the ice, a blur of motion and power. And despite myself, I was captivated. He was… breathtaking. All the arrogant swagger he carried on land translated into a fierce, god-like, impossible grace on the ice.

“Hey, who’s the new girl?” One of his teammates, his jersey reading ‘J. MARKS’, skated over, grinning at me through his helmet cage.

“Alvin’s sister,” Emily said, a mischievous glint in her eye.

“Soon to be step sister actually,” I corrected automatically, my cheeks heating while sending a glare at Emily's way.

That only made them grin wider.

“Doesn’t matter. She’s cute.”

"Real cute, like a tiny chipmunk."

"Nah she ain't that tiny, more like my cute hamster."

"Dude that thing you have in your house ain't a hamster, it's a mutated rat that you made fat."

A chorus of whistles and teasing followed from a few other players who had glided over. I flushed, about to run away due to embarrassment when Alvin appeared out of nowhere.

His expression was stormy, his jaw tight enough to crack ice. “Marks. Back off from her now.”

The guys laughed, unbothered. “What, Monroe? You claiming her?”

“I said get lost,” he growled, his voice low and dangerous.

The laughter died instantly, they looked at us both strangely but shrunk at his look. They scattered back to drills under his glare.