Claimed By The Hockey Captain: My boyfriend's stepbrother

ADELE

"So you're saying he came home reeking of alcohol and didn't tell you where he was?"

For what had to be the tenth time, I sighed into the phone. "Yes, Bree. That's exactly what happened, plus he's been very secretive lately."

"What exactly is the matter with Jayden?" I could feel her exasperation through the line as I searched my bag.

"I wish I knew." I found my keys, shoved my car door shut with my hip, and walked across the frozen lot toward the arena. "He makes hundreds of excuses. He's out with the guys, or he went for a run and lost track of time, but I just can't believe him."

"Because you're not stupid, that's why. Hold up, when last did you two, you know . . ."

"Bree." My breath fogged as I groaned.

"I'm serious, Adele. When?"

The gears in my head turned, and I hated that I had to think about it. "Nearly four months."

Her loud gasp made me wince. "Sweet Christ, Adele. You're basically a virgin again. News flash, if your boyfriend isn't doing it with you, he's doing it somewhere else."

"That's not—" I wanted to defend Jayden, but he'd been rejecting me for months.

Every time I tried to get close, he found an excuse to pull away. Whenever I asked what was wrong, he grew distant, grabbed his jacket, and disappeared for hours before coming back.

"We're just busy with competition season. His schedule's insane."

"So's yours, and so is mine," she said.

"Bree, can we not do this at six in the morning?"

"Fine, fine." She sighed. "Wait, it is six in the morning. Where are you?"

Despite myself, I smiled. "The rink." I pushed through the outer doors, the lobby's warmth swallowing the cold.

She snorted. "Adele. It's your day off. Why are you at the rink at six a.m.?"

"Because skating is the only thing that's ever cleared my head. Besides, Jayden and I are moving into our new place this weekend. I've got a feeling the new environment will bring back the spark we need."

Bree hummed, clearly skeptical.

"I'll call you later, and we can talk more," I said softly.

"Alrighty, bye, Adele."

I hung up after she did. The building was quiet this early, no crowds, no constant scrape of blades against ice. I loved it best like this.

I was three steps past my own locker room when I remembered something. Last practice, I'd left my skating blades in Jayden's locker after a joint session that ran too long.

The men's locker room was just down the opposite hallway. It was technically off-limits to women, but no one was around yet.

I pushed the door open without a second thought and collided hard with something solid enough to knock the air out of me.

"Oh my God—" I stumbled backward, and a strong grip caught my shoulders before I could fall. It took my brain a full second to realize I hadn't walked into a wall.

I looked up, and every thought in my head scattered.

He was tall, so tall I had to tip my head back to meet his eyes, and oh, he was dripping hot . . . I mean wet.

Droplets of water rolled down his broad chest, a towel hung low around his hips, and for a moment, my stomach flipped with heat. I forced my eyes to his face. "Who . . . who are you?"

He didn't even try to cover himself. He just looked straight at me, like I was the one standing somewhere I shouldn't be.

"Wrong question." His voice was so low I felt it vibrate inside me. "The right one is what you're doing in here."

"This is my boyfriend's locker room. I left my skates in his locker."

"Your boyfriend," he said flatly, one dark brow raised. "Didn't he mention his team's short a locker room this month?"

Confusion hit me. "What are you talking about?"

His coal-black eyes narrowed slightly. "The Stallions relocated here for the season because of roof damage in our city. I own this locker room just as much as your boyfriend, if not more."

The Stallions? The championship hockey league I'd been hearing about all season? I'd seen the news about their wrecked arena, but never imagined they'd use our rink.

"You're one of the Stallions," I said slowly.

"Something like that." He didn't offer his name, just watched me connect the dots I should've connected before barging through the wrong door.

I didn't recognize him, which wasn't a surprise. I'd spent high school and college avoiding hockey players. They were always smirking at our competition posters, joking that it wasn't "real sports." I'd disliked jocks ever since.

For all I knew, he could be a serial killer who'd somehow gotten into this rink, but before I could speak, hurried footsteps echoed toward us.

"Livingston? Livingston! I knew you were back there. I just need five minutes to interview you."

In one second flat, his expression turned to near distress. "Not now," he muttered, mostly to himself.

"Who is that?" I asked out of curiosity.

"A reporter who can't understand the concept of space." He glanced toward the doors, then at one of the lockers, then back at me. "Get in here."

"Excuse—"

His hand closed around my wrist before I finished the word, and I was pulled into the nearest supply locker. The door clicked shut behind us.

"Are you serious right now?" I hissed.

"Don't speak," he warned, his breath warm in the cramped space. My back hit a shelf of spare skate guards, and his bare chest was a measly four inches from my face.

My protest died on my lips. I'd come here to clear my head, only to end up hiding with a half-naked stranger in a supply closet.

The footsteps slowed just outside the door. I didn't move, mostly because moving meant bumping into his naked body.

After a few seconds, the footsteps retreated, an irritated murmur trailing behind them. "She's gone," I whispered.

He pushed the door open and stepped out, chuckling as if the whole thing amused him.

I grabbed my skates from Jayden's locker, painfully aware he was watching me. "What's the deal between you and that reporter?"

I didn't know many hockey players by face, but someone waiting for him before sunrise had to be important.

I turned just in time to catch him staring at my legs. Again, my stomach flipped. "She's an old fling. Nothing memorable."

The sheer casualness of it irritated me. I rolled my eyes and moved past him, but his voice stopped me. "Stay out of this locker room. My team's going to be here for a while."

The thread holding me together finally snapped. Between Jayden's attitude and this stranger who'd shown up on my rink and shoved me into a supply closet, I was pissed.

I smiled without humor. "Don't worry, I have absolutely no interest in anything that concerns you. Just get one thing clear: this rink isn't yours, so until you take your sorry ass back to where you're from, don't dare order me around."

His low chuckle followed me as I walked away.