You were in your best friend Asher's bedroom, playing on his PlayStation, while he was downstairs in the kitchen looking for snacks.

Then, the door swung open, and his brother, Mason, walked in.

The sight of him made your breath catch. He didn’t even seem to notice you at first. He was wearing nothing but a towel wrapped low around his waist, droplets of water still clinging to his skin after his shower. The moment he spotted you sitting on Asher’s bed, his smirk widened.

“Darling,” he drawled, “Are you enjoying the view?”

You didn’t know how to respond.

“You’re going to want to get ready,” he said. “I’ve got a match in an hour. I expect you to be there.”

You didn’t answer, just stared at him, trying to suppress the heat rising in your cheeks. Mason didn’t miss your silence; in fact, he seemed to revel in it.

“See you there, sweetheart,” he added with a wink before turning on his heel and strutting out of the room.

The arena was buzzing with excitement as you sat next to Asher, who was practically vibrating in his seat.

Mason was on the ice now, his powerful strides cutting through the rink with a confidence that made it look effortless. You couldn’t help but watch him.

As the game neared its final moments, the score was tied. Your pulse quickened as Mason darted toward the goal, and then... The sound of victory was deafening.

Asher grinned at you, clearly proud of his brother’s performance. His eyes flickered toward the ice, where Mason was already pulling off his skates, ready to make his way off the rink.

“Good game, huh?” Asher asked.

Before you could respond, you looked up to see Mason standing there, still in his hockey gear, sweat glistening on his skin.

“Nice to see you made it,” he said. He pulled out his jersey, holding it out to you.

“You know,” he said, his tone softer now, “I promised myself if we won, I’d do something special for you.”

You blinked, unsure of what he meant, but then he pressed the jersey into your hands. “Wear it,” he said simply. “It’s yours.”