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LIAM

T he crisp October air hits my face as I exit the Journalism building, a welcome relief after the stuffy warmth of the radio studio.

The afternoon sun hangs low in the sky, spilling a fall chill across campus as students hurry between classes, their breath visible in small puffs.

My phone vibrates constantly in my pocket.

It’s the team group chat exploding with notifications I'm not ready to deal with…

Yet.

Because what the hell just happened? Did I really do what I think I did?

One minute I'm rushing to a simple sports interview, the next I'm debating relationship philosophies with a brown-eyed journalism major who ambushed me into being her co-host.

And the weirdest part?

I kind of enjoyed it.

Which is exactly the problem.

I pull out my phone to check the damage. Twenty-seven new messages, all variations of:

RYAN

Dude wtf was that?

KELLAN

Just heard Love & Logic. You're doing dating advice now?

COACH MURPHY

My office. 3PM. No excuses.

And my personal favorite:

DEREK

Why are you yelling about spreadsheets on my sister's podcast?

I stop dead in my tracks, nearly causing a bike messenger to wipe out.

"Watch it, jackass!" he shouts, swerving around me.

I barely notice, staring at Derek's message as the pieces click into place.

Piper Olive Thompson.

Thompson.

Derek "Rocket" Thompson.

"You have got to be kidding me," I mutter, dialing Ryan.

He answers on the first ring. "Sullivan! You're internet famous! My sister's sorority is already making Team Liam shirts."

"Piper is Derek's sister?"

"Uh, yeah? Duh. They have the same last name. And eyes. And terrifying intensity."

I groan, remembering last year’s fiasco when Aidan and Jake went after the same girl on the swim team.

Turns out she was Greg Henderson’s sister.

The season almost ended in a horror-movie hockey blood bath. And soon after, the swearing off of dating teammates’ sisters was born.

Not that I’m dating Piper.

My teeth grind in my mouth as I clutch my cell closer, anger seeping out.

“How the hell was I supposed to know?! I mean, she tricked me into being on her show! I thought it was a sports interview!"

Ryan's laughter echoes through the phone. "Only you, Sullivan. Get your ass back to the house—Derek's been pacing since he heard your voice on the campus station."

"Great." I start walking faster."Is he pissed?"

"Hard to tell. He keeps making this weird choking sound."

"Fantastic."

"Looking on the bright side…at least he can't murder you before the Brampton game. Coach would never forgive him."

"Your optimism is why we're friends."

"That and my stunning good looks. Hurry up, jag-off. We ordered pizza."

By the time I reach our apartment fifteen minutes later, my anxiety has evolved into a strange mix of defiance and dread.

It's not like I did anything wrong.

I was the one who got tricked, for fuck’s sake.

I pause outside the brick four-story building where Derek, Ryan, and I share a unit.

Last year, it was Derek, Kellan, and me with Wren living next door until her apartment flooded and she crashed on our couch.

Then, of course, she and Kellan fell madly in love and moved into their own place this semester, with Ryan taking Kellan's old room.

I take a deep breath and head upstairs, knowing the guys are probably already gathered.

Most days, the team hangs out at the actual "Hockey House"—the run-down Victorian several other teammates rent together a few blocks away—but for serious conversations, our apartment is more private.

I take a deep breath and push open the door, greeted by the familiar smell of unwashed gear, pizza, and whatever protein concoction Derek’s been experimenting with in the blender.

"He's alive!" Ryan announces from the kitchen.

I follow his voice to find him, Kellan, and Derek sitting around our battered table, surrounded by open pizza boxes.

Kellan doesn't live here anymore, but he still has a key and shows up for food as regularly as when he did.

Derek looks up, his expression unreadable.

"So," he says, taking a deliberate bite of pizza. "You met Piper."

"Technically, she ambushed me," I clarify, dropping into the empty chair and grabbing a slice. "I had no idea she was your sister until about ten minutes ago."

"And yet you spent an hour arguing with her about dating."

"I spent an hour trying not to look like an idiot after she introduced me as her co-host on live radio.” I motion with the pizza slice. "What was I supposed to do, walk out?"

Kellan snorts. "I would've paid to see that."

"You walked right into her trap," Ryan says, shaking his head. "Classic Piper."

"What trap?" I ask, mouth full of cheesy sauce.

Derek sighs. "My sister is... intense. Always has been. She decides what she wants and steamrolls anything in her way."

"I noticed.”

"When our mom died—" Derek starts, then pauses. The table goes quiet.

We all know about their mom, a hotshot journalist who had a heart attack when Derek was in high school. It hit him hard.

"After Mom died, Piper got even more focused. Everything became about control, planning, being perfect."

"Anyway," Derek continues, "she transferred here to follow Mom's footsteps through the journalism program. That podcast is her shot at some fancy fellowship."

"She seemed..." I search for the right word. "Dedicated."

"That's one word for it," Ryan laughs. "I've known her since we were kids. She once made a PowerPoint presentation to convince her parents to let her stay up thirty minutes later. With charts."

"Sounds about right," I say, remembering her statistics about communication protocols.

Derek points a pizza crust at me. "Just to be clear, this was a one-time thing, right? You're not actually going to be her permanent co-host?"

I hesitate a beat too long.

"Liam," Derek's voice drops to a warning tone. "Tell me you're not considering it."

"They want us to continue," I admit. "Apparently we're trending on campus social media."

"Trending?" Kellan pulls out his phone. "Holy shit, you are. There's a poll about which one of you is right about dating."

"Who's winning?" Ryan and I ask simultaneously.

"Piper," Kellan says. "By a lot."

"What? That's ridiculous!" I grab his phone. "Her approach is so clinical it would make a robot uncomfortable."

The three of them stare at me.

"What?"

Derek narrows his eyes. "You sound invested."

"I'm not invested.” I shrug. “I just don't like losing."

“Riiiight.” Derek doesn't look convinced. "Remember the sister rule?"

"Dude, we're talking about a podcast, not dating."

Derek sets down his pizza and leans forward.

”Let me be crystal clear," he says, voice low. "Piper is off-limits. I’d stick a red-hot poker in my eye before I let one of you fuckers mess around with my sister.”

”Isn’t that a little extreme?" I challenge, surprised by his intensity.

"You didn't see what happened to her at Baldwin College. Some senior journalist, thinks-he’s-hot-shit guy she worked with on a project messed with her head. Bad. She nearly transferred mid-semester. It took months for her to get back to normal.”

"I'm not?—“

"I know how you operate, Sullivan. You’re the kind of guy who can’t commit to what cereal you like to eat in the morning.”

I huff out a breath. “It’s Lucky Charms, but whatev.”

“Point is: I’ve known you for three years, bro. And I love you like anyone would love their really annoying, possibly Ritalin-addled brother …” His eyes narrow. “But seriously mess with my sister…and I will Google painful and creative ways to castrate a hostage.”

On the last syllable, the table falls silent. Even Ryan stops chewing.

"Message received," I laugh at last, desperate to lighten the mood. "Besides, she's not my type anyway. She's all spreadsheets and statistics, and I’m?—"

"A hockey-obsessed commitment-phobe?" Ryan spits out along with a spray of cheese and red sauce.

"I was going to say 'more spontaneous,' but sure, that works too.”

Ryan laughs at Derek’s still-frowning face. "Plus, you know how your sister works, dude. Could you even imagine Old Lucky Charms Liam actually dating someone that organized? She'd have his entire life catalogued in a spreadsheet by the second date."

"Whereas Liam's the guy who lost his car keys in the refrigerator," Kellan adds.

I scoff, scarfing down another bite. ”One time! That happened one time!"

"Twice," all three correct together.

I flip them off collectively and grab another slice of pizza.

"Whatever. Anyway, we can all chill on the ‘dick-hacking Google searches’, alright?

I'm probably never going to get within 10 feet of that podcast again.

I have enough to worry about with the Brampton game coming up soon and that scout coming to watch practice. "

Derek relaxes visibly. "Good. Because I love you, man, but when it comes to my sister, you know I would end you, don’t you?”

"Noted." I grab my neglected beer, taking a much-needed swig. "You guys act like I'm interested in her or something. We spent an hour arguing. That's it."

"The lady doth protest too much," Ryan stage-whispers to Kellan.

I throw a pizza crust at his head.

"Anyway," I change the subject. "Who's hosting the party after Brampton? Please say not our apartment. I'm still finding glitter from last time."

"Hockey House," Ryan offers. "The guys already volunteered. Though I think they just want to show off that new beer pong table they built."

"Perfect," Kellan says. "I was worried Wren and I would get stuck hosting again after last time."

The conversation shifts to party planning, and I let myself relax, pushing thoughts of brown eyes and statistics out of my mind.

Two hours later, I'm on the ice for afternoon practice, trying to focus on Coach Murphy's drilling instructions rather than replaying my on-air debate with Piper.

It's not going well.

"Sullivan!" Coach barks. "What part of 'blue line to blue line' is confusing you?"

I snap back to attention, realizing I've skated well past the marking. "Sorry, Coach!"