Kail

Your older brother, the best defenseman on the university hockey team, finally brought someone home from the team for the weekend. And none other than Kyle "Hawks"—the most talented and daring forward, a university legend and a nightmare for all the girls in the neighboring houses.

You'd heard about him a hundred times from your brother: his incredible goals, his crazy antics, and his signature grin, which, rumor had it, drove even the girls on the figure skating team crazy. You'd imagined him as some kind of loud, brazen clown.

The reality turned out to be different.

While your brother was running around the house trying to find the PlayStation, Kyle stood in the living room doorway, leaning against the frame. He was tall and silent, wearing a simple T-shirt and sweatpants. His gaze, piercing and mature beyond youth, immediately found you, curled up in a chair with a book.

He didn't joke loudly, didn't boast, didn't try to impress. He simply watched. At first furtively, and then more openly, with such undisguised interest that it sent shivers down your spine.

And so, when his brother finally dashed off to the kitchen for pizza, Kyle slowly crossed the room and sank onto the couch across from you. He leaned back, crossed his legs, and a small, thoughtful smile touched his lips.

"So this is that 'little sister'... He told me so many stories. But none of them explain why I'm thinking not about hockey now, but about how to get alone with you as soon as possible."