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PUCK ME, STEPBROTHER Novel Cover

PUCK ME, STEPBROTHER

Pro hockey star Jaxson faces an explosive domestic situation when he is forced to move in with his stepbrother. Living together pushes their mutual animosity to a crisis point, yet a powerful, hidden desire soon complicates their family bond. As the spotlight of fame intensifies, the pair must weigh the risk of a public scandal against their growing feelings. They face a choice: suppress their passion or embrace a love that could ruin them.
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Chapter 1

Bryson's POV

I should have stayed home.

The thought hits me as I stand in front of Blackridge University's main gate, staring up at buildings that look like they belong in some fancy movie about rich people problems. Everything here screams money. The stone walls are so clean they practically shine, and the grass is cut so perfect it looks fake. Even the trees look expensive.

My phone buzzes in my pocket. Another text from Mom.

"Have a great first day, honey! Remember to smile and talk to people. Maybe join a club or something fun!"

I shove the phone back without answering. Mom means well, but she doesn't get it. She's so happy about marrying Richard Hayes that she thinks everything will be perfect now. She keeps talking about how this is our chance for a better life, how I'll love Blackridge, how I'll make amazing friends.

What she doesn't understand is that I don't belong here.

I look down at my jeans. They're clean and they fit okay, but they're from the thrift store back home. The kind of place where everything smells like old fabric softener and costs five dollars. Around me, other students walk by in clothes that probably cost more than Mom makes in a week. Designer bags, perfect shoes, watches that catch the sunlight.

I feel like a fraud.

"You can do this," I mutter to myself. "Just find your classes and survive the day."

The campus map in my hands is already getting wrinkled from my sweaty palms. I've been lost twice already, and I'm starting to panic. Economics class starts in ten minutes, and I still have no idea where Hamilton Hall is supposed to be.

A group of girls walks past me, their designer heels clicking on the stone path. They're laughing about something, and I catch bits of their conversation.

"Did you see what Jessica wore to the party last weekend? So embarrassing."

"I know, right? Like, where did she even get that dress?"

They glance at me as they pass, and I see their eyes take in my clothes. One of them whispers something to her friend, and they both giggle. My face gets hot.

This is exactly what I was afraid of.

I check my phone for the time. Seven minutes now. I need to move.

The coffee shop on the corner looks busy, with a line of students waiting for their morning fix. I should skip it, but I barely slept last night and I need the caffeine if I'm going to survive my first day. Plus, maybe if I'm holding a coffee cup, I'll look more like I belong here.

The line moves fast, and soon I'm walking away with a large coffee that's way too hot and cost way too much. But at least it smells good, and the warmth feels nice in my hands.

"Hamilton Hall, Hamilton Hall," I repeat to myself, checking the map again while walking. It should be around this corner somewhere.

My phone buzzes again. Another text from Mom.

"Don't forget what we talked about! This is a fresh start for both of us. I love you so much!"

I smile a little despite everything. Mom really is happy, happier than I've seen her in years. After Dad died, she worked herself to death just to keep us going. She deserves this. She deserves Richard and his fancy house and not having to worry about money anymore.

Even if it means I have to suffer through this place.

I'm reading her text and trying to walk at the same time when I realize I'm going too fast. There's a corner coming up, and I should probably slow down, but I'm already late and—

CRASH.

The collision happens so fast I don't even see it coming. One second I'm rushing around the corner, the next I'm slamming into something solid and warm. My coffee cup flies out of my hands like it has wings, and hot coffee goes everywhere. I mean everywhere. It splashes across the stone floor, it hits the walls, and worst of all, it soaks both me and whoever I just crashed into.

"Shit!" I gasp, looking down at my now coffee-stained shirt.

Then I look up.

Oh no. Oh no no no.

The guy standing in front of me, dripping with my coffee, is the most gorgeous person I've ever seen in real life. He's tall, maybe six feet, with broad shoulders that fill out his expensive-looking shirt perfectly. His hair is this perfect brown color that looks like he just rolled out of bed but in a good way, all messy and soft-looking. And his eyes...

His eyes are hazel, this amazing mix of green and brown that would be beautiful if they weren't currently looking at me like I'm something disgusting he stepped in.

"I'm so sorry," I stammer, reaching toward him like I can somehow fix this mess. "I didn't see you coming, I was looking at my phone and—"

"Are you kidding me right now?"

His voice is deep and smooth, the kind of voice that probably makes girls melt. But there's nothing attractive about the way he's looking at me. His expression shifts from shock to something worse. Disgust.

His eyes move down, taking in my thrift store jeans, my old sneakers, my coffee-stained shirt that probably cost ten dollars new. I watch his face change as he puts the pieces together. Rich boy meets scholarship kid. Popular guy meets nobody.

I feel my face burning with embarrassment. Around us, other students have stopped walking. They're staring, whispering to each other. Some of them have their phones out.

Great. My first day at Blackridge and I'm already the entertainment.

"Look, I'm really sorry," I try again. "Maybe I can pay for dry cleaning or—"

"Pay for it?" He laughs, but it's not a nice sound. "With what?"

The hallway has gone completely quiet now. Everyone's watching, waiting to see what happens next. I can feel their eyes on me, judging my clothes, my face, everything about me that screams 'doesn't belong here.'

This is my worst nightmare come true.

The gorgeous guy looks me up and down again, and I see something cold settle in his expression. His mouth curves into a smile that makes my stomach drop to my shoes. It's not a friendly smile. It's the kind of smile that means trouble.

"Interesting," he says, his voice carrying in the quiet hallway. "Very interesting."

I don't know what he means by that, but I know it's not good. Everything about his tone, his expression, the way he's looking at me like I'm some kind of bug he's about to squash...

My day just went from bad to catastrophic.

And something tells me this gorgeous stranger is about to make it infinitely worse.

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