A Deal With My Hockey Captain Stepbrother

ELIANA / ELI

"Need some help?" A deep voice cuts through the quiet air as I tiptoe, trying to reach for a mug from the high shelf on the wall cabinet.

A breath catches in my throat, stopping mid motion. Slowly, I turn into that one direction that I have been trying to avoid for the past three days, and there he is!

Jackson Freaking Harrison. My Stepbrother .The hockey captain of the HAWKERS team. My boyfriend's biggest rival team.

He's leaning casually on the door frame, his hands dipped in navy pants and the sleeves rolled up above the elbows. He's wearing a button down white shirt and the top button is open, the navy tie hanging loosely around his neck. His black hair is damp and I can tell that he's from the shower.

However, I don't miss that tiny curl on the corner of his lips. He raises a brow at me and that's when I realise I have been staring for a minute way too long.

"It-it's okay. I can manage." I respond way too quickly, mentally cursing myself for stuttering.

He arches his eyebrows once again, the curl at the corner of his lips stretching an inch more.

"Well...I see you're managing it just fine." He replies with a lazy shrug, pushing himself off the door frame and walks to the refrigerator which is located a step away from me.

"Asshole!" I mumble under my breath, not letting his words get under my skin, then turn my attention to whatever I was doing before he interrupted.

I tiptoe and try to reach for the mug once again but... fail. Before I can figure out what to do, a hand sneaks from behind me, easily reaching for the mug on the top shelf without that much struggling.

I inhale sharply when I realize whom that strong, masculine hand might belong to. Cautiously, I turn my head to check if my guess is right and gulp when I look into those blue piercing eyes that are staring back at me. Can't help but notice how deep blue they are as I gaze into them from close, like the deep end of the sea that is ready to swallow me whole to its depths if I'm not careful enough.

I can't help but notice how sharp his nose is, chiseled jaw line and full lips that I was quite sure had kissed countless girls.

All the things that I have never noticed because I have never come this close. I always watched him from the sidelines, every step measured, every breath careful, so that I didn't get too close.

Not this close that I can smell the fresh mint in his breath and his strong cologne that's almost suffocating.

This is what I have been avoiding since we moved in three days ago. However, here I am, trapped between him and the kitchen counter. Nowhere to run to and I hate it!

"Good morning?" My mind snaps back