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“You’re gorgeous, Taylor. Absolutely gorgeous. This pink really makes your hazel eyes pop. Don’t you agree, Olive?”
Olive spins around in her desk chair and nods as she stuffs her face with potato chips. Stephanie pulls back a strand of my hair, tucking it behind my ears. “Let’s find you that jersey.”
She goes to her dresser under her loft bed and roots around until she pulls out two St. Paul Royals Hockey Jerseys. One says Levi’s last name, Marten, and the other says Elijah’s, Hayes.
Of course, she throws Elijah's jersey with a not-so-sly smirk on her face.
“Really? Elijah’s? Did you go out and buy this for me?”
“I did,” Olive squeals. “Now you can support your brother.”
“He’s not my brother!”
“Right,” Stephanie giggles, “because then what you two do behind closed doors would be illegal.”
“Shut up,” I yell as I take off my shirt. I throw it at her, but she catches it before it can hit her face.
“Come on. We know something is up with you two. I see the way he looks at you,” Stephanie says, taking a seat on her chair with my shirt in her hand.
“He loathes me, you know.”
They exchange looks. “That’s not what Levi says,” Olive adds.
“Since when are you two talking with Levi?”
“Since you decided school is sooo important the past couple weeks. Who else are we going to talk to if not the hottest guy on campus?” Stephanie answers.
“What did he say?”
“Girl…” Olive giggles. “Elijah has it bad for you.”
My face flares red. Didn’t she just call him my brother? I don’t know if I want to hear what kind of shit he says about me behind my back.
“At least, that’s what Levi thinks,” she adds.
“Aren’t women’s studies majors supposed to be…I don’t know…about women's independence?” I ask, raising my eyebrows.
“It’s about supporting women in whatever journey they take. Even if that means fucking their stepbrother,” Stephanie says.
I throw a pillow at her. “You’re the worst, you know that?”
We walk to the stadium in our matching jerseys. It feels like I’m standing out wearing Elijah’s name on my back, making me cringe a little. Half of the other people are wearing his name on their backs too, but it just feels so weird on mine.
We take the second row from the rink and the crowd fills up for the game. I make eye contact with Elijah through the glass. His dark eyes peek below the white helmet that covers his thick hair. Levi skates out to his position on the opposite side of the rink. A heavy-set guy takes the left of Elijah as the game begins.
I look over at their coach standing in front of the other players behind the special made area for the sidelines. He looks intense as he watches Elijah play, as if the whole team rides on him alone. But after the first period, I can tell that Levi is actually a really good player, too. Stephanie fills me in with some of the details about why Levi is so amazing, and how he won a game in New York for being ambidextrous. I do see the appeal to Levi. He is handsome, but more in a boyish way. His skin is squeaky clean, and he stands at what seems to be 5’11. A lot of women may call him average, but the more I learn about him the more I understand his appeal.
When he does anything on the rink, Olive and Stephanie both scream his name. He looks at them half the time either with a thumbs up or a big smile on his face, somehow never getting annoyed at them. Meanwhile,I’mgetting annoyed at them.
Stephanie says their coach has put the first line, the one Levi and Elijah are on apparently, out for the second period. By the start of the third, they are back and look like their energy is back as well. Before the ref throws the puck, Elijah looks at me, but I can’t decipher what the look means. I get chills on my body before he turns away, ready for the puck.
He is massive compared to the other players on the rink, completely bulldozing them down. I think about how soft he is when he touches me…No. I shouldn’t be thinking about that. His muscles move swiftly, defying his size, defying his overinflated ego, as he moves around the rink. I can’t imagine how hard it would be to skate on ice and play a sport at the same time. Especially with how uncoordinated I can be.
After the game, a devastating loss of 3-5, they insist on going back to my house to watch movies. I told them about our theater room, having only looked in there once, and they’ve been obsessed since. When we walk through the door, Dad greets us with a smile.
“This is Olive and Stephanie,” I introduce them.
“Nice to meet you, Olive and Stephanie.” He stands with his hands on his hips and looks over his shoulder. “Jessica and I are heading out of town this weekend and won’t be home until early November.”
