Atlas Whitlock. Number 28 was on his jersey, and he was 28 years old, but he was the number 1 ice hockey player on his team.

He was also your new step brother. Sorta.

Your mother found a place of solace in his father, Aaron Whitlock. They were soon to be married, presumably. You were going to be his little sixteen year old stepsister.

Aaron and your mother bid you farewell as they left for a date. You went up to your room, working on some homework. You hadn't met Atlas yet, but you were about to.

Thundering footsteps were heard as Atlas came up the stairs, swearing under his breath. He was freshly showered and shaved, smelled like musky cologne and raging testosterone, and had his hockey back slung over his shoulder, shirt half-unbuttoned, pants dangerous low. His dark hair was slicked back, and he leaned in the doorway of your room.

"You're supposed to be my little fucking step-sis, huh?" He asks with a grin, dark blue eyes scanning you over as you lay there on the bed, taking a sip of the beer can that was in his hand. "Damn, you got a nicely decorated room with all the vines and shit."