Power Pucking Play (Chicago Blades)

3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Gio

T he sharp slice of my skates against the ice drowns out the chaos in my head. Practice with the Chicago Blades grounds me, even as I'm almost certain that my phone is buzzing incessantly in my locker. I'll deal with it later.

Right now, I need to focus on hockey.

And I'm sure as hell doing a shit job of it today.

"De Luca!" Coach bellows from the sidelines.

I glance up. "Yeah?"

"Mind getting your head in the game and out of your ass?"

I grit my teeth but nod, skating back into position on the ice. I push harder, my muscles burning as I race down the rink. The satisfying thwack of my stick against the puck echoes through the arena.

"Nice shot, Gio!" Jacob calls out.

I nod in acknowledgment, circling back for another drill. The familiar rhythm of practice helps quiet the nagging voice in my head.

The one that keeps replaying snippets of that night.

Soft skin. Breathy sighs. Silky thighs.

I shake my head, trying to dislodge the memories. Lexi Brookes is off-limits. And the bane of my goddamned existence.

Always has been. Always will be.

Even if I can still feel the ghost of her lips on mine.

I get back in the zone, losing track of time, of my thoughts, of myself. Until Coach finally blows the whistle, signaling the end of practice.

"All right, that's enough for today," Coach announces. "Hit the showers."

I peel off my jersey, feeling the cold air hit my sweat-drenched skin. I grab my phone from my locker and see a barrage of texts and missed calls from my agent.

And my sister.

Shit. I dial her number.

"What's up, Gabs?" I say, bracing myself for whatever crisis she's calling about now.

"Finally! I've been trying to reach you all morning," Gabi's exasperated voice filters through. "Everything's been confirmed."

I frown, toweling off my sweat-drenched hair. "Confirmed? What are you talking about?"

"The feature, Gio. For Sports News Now . You're going to be their cover story."

My stomach drops. "What feature?"

"The behind-the-scenes one we discussed last month, remember? That great opportunity to make yourself look like less of a walking, talking penis?"

"Wow. Penises must have gotten much better looking in my thirty-one years of life to warrant such a compliment."

"Shut up, Gio. This is serious." Gabi pauses. "You're going to do it, right?"

I vaguely recall agreeing to something, but the details are fuzzy. Probably because I was three beers in at the time.

My agent Aaron Connelly's words come back to me in a rush. I remember now how he convinced me it would be good for my image. Good for sponsors. Good for the team.

And I fell for it.

It was hard not to. A month ago was right around the time that Aaron told me about the trade rumors floating around. That he needed to do something about my reputation and fast.

And this was the perfect solution. A puff piece, as Gabi called it, that would show I'm more than just a hot-headed player who won't commit to anything, not even anger management.

But now that it's actually happening, I'm not so sure anymore.

I grimace at the thought of weeks of having some reporter follow me around, invading my privacy, digging up dirt on my personal life. And all under the guise of "humanizing" me to the public.

Just what I need, another reminder of how much of a fake and selfish prick I've become in the eyes of everyone else.

My brain says, "fuck that”, but what my mouth says…

I exhale, long and loud. “I’m not sure. I haven't decided yet. I need more information."

"All...right. What do you need to know?"

I take a deep breath and run a hand through my hair. "Everything."

"You want to narrow that down a bit?"

"Fine. What's his name?"

"Whose name?"

"The reporter that's going to be following me around like a lost puppy for the next month?"

There's a pause on the other end of the line. My grip on the phone tightens as Gabi sighs.

"It's a she, actually," she says.

"And her name? Is it a state secret or something?"

"Right. Well, her name is Lexi." She hesitates. "Lexi Brookes.”

The locker room suddenly feels too small, too hot. I struggle to keep my voice steady.

“You’re kidd…no. Absolutely not, Gabs. No. I’d rather eat glass and shit razor blades than have her following me around for several weeks."

"First of all, eww. Second of all, that's a bit dramatic, don't you think?" Gabi replies, completely unfazed by my outburst. "Gio, come on. This could be huge for your career. For the team."

"I don't care. Find someone else."

"There is no one else. Lexi's the best in the business. And she's my best friend. She'll be fair."

I bark out a laugh. "Fair? Are we talking about the same Lexi Brookes? The one who's made a career out of making mincemeat of me in the press?"

Gabi sighs. "Look, I know you two have had your...differences."

"Our differences being that one of us is a heartless egotist and the other one is me," I mutter under my breath.

"Stop acting like a Broadway diva. This is important. Think about it, Gio. This could be your chance to finally set the record straight and show people who you really are."

I close my eyes, leaning my forehead against the cool metal of my locker. Images from that night flash through my mind again.

Lexi's eyes, dark with desire. Her fingers tangled in my hair. The way she gasped my name.

"Gio? Are you still there?"

I clear my throat. "Yeah. I'm here."

"So, will you do it?"

Every instinct screams at me to say no. To run as far away from Lexi Brookes as possible.

But I can't. Not without raising suspicions. Not without giving her the upper hand.

Not without potentially screwing up my pro hockey career.

"Fine," I growl. "But if she pulls anything, I'm out. Got it?"

Gabi lets out a relieved sigh. "Thank you. You won't regret this."

"Trust me, I already do, Gabs."

I hang up without saying goodbye, tossing my phone back into my locker with more force than necessary.

My best friend Jacob, who's been quietly sitting on the bench next to me this whole time, raises an eyebrow. "Trouble in paradise?"

I give him a glare. "Shut up."

Jacob holds up his hands. "Hey, I'm just trying to lighten the mood. You look like you're about to go into battle."

"Because I am," I mutter darkly. "Your wife just roped me into pretending to be her best friend's chew toy to 'boost my image'."

He nods. "Ah, she may have mentioned an in-depth feature on you for Sports News Now . She's been wanting to do a televised feature on a Blades player for a while now."

"I know," I grumble. "But why me? Why not one of the other guys?"

Jacob smirks. "Because you're Gio 'The Icebreaker' De Luca. You're a human cannonball with the good looks of a supermodel. You'll be perfect for this."

I roll my eyes. "Great, because being a human cannonball is exactly what I want to be known for in the hockey world."

"Come on. This is good, right? Some good publicity and all that?"

"Sure," I mutter, tossing my jersey into my locker. "If you enjoy having your life dissected by a piranha with a laptop."

Jacob chuckles. "Come on, man. Lexi's not that bad. She's actually pretty cool once you get to know her."

If he only knew how well I'd gotten to know her.

"I doubt that," I say, heading for the showers.

The hot water does little to ease the tension in my shoulders. I brace my hands against the tile, letting the spray beat down on my neck.

How the hell am I supposed to do this? How do I spend weeks with Lexi, pretending that nothing happened between us?

Pretending that I don't know what she looks like when she comes undone. That I don't know the exact curve of her hips, the softness of her skin.

I grind my fists into the shower wall, welcoming the sharp sting of pain. It's a reminder of why I can't let this happen again.

As I step out of the shower, wrapping a towel around my waist, I catch sight of myself in the mirror. The dark-haired, green-eyed man staring back at me looks tired. Conflicted. Nothing like the cocky player the world sees on the ice.

Maybe Gabi's right. Maybe I do need to show people who I really am.

But not like this. Not with Lexi holding the pen, ready to write my story as she sees fit.

I grab my phone, dialing Gabi's number. She picks up on the second ring.

"What's up?"

"I've changed my mind," I say, my voice hard. "I'm not doing the feature."

There's a pause on the other end. "What? Why?"

"Because I said so." I run a hand through my damp hair, frustration building. "Find someone else to be Lexi's poster boy."

"Gio, we've been over this. There is no one else. The team needs this, you need this."

"What I need," I cut her off, "is to focus on hockey. Not tap-dance for the media like some trained monkey."

"Hey, monkeys are pretty smart. Those Planet of the Ape movies proved it." Gabi's tone is light, but I can hear the worry underneath her words. "Listen, I know this isn't easy for you. But trust me, it'll be worth it. And if this is because of Lexi…"

"This has nothing to do with Lexi," I lie, the words tasting bitter on my tongue. "I'm just not interested."

"You can't just back out, Gio. We have a contract."

I snort. "A contract I never signed. Face it, sis. It's not happening."

I hang up, cutting off her protests. My phone immediately starts buzzing again, but I ignore it, tossing it into my bag.

As I finish getting dressed, I try to ignore the nagging voice in my head. The one that sounds suspiciously like Nonna, telling me I'm making a mistake.

But I can't do it. I can't spend weeks pretending that night with Lexi never happened. Can't trust myself to keep my distance when she's so close.

It's better this way. For everyone.

I zip up my bag, slinging it over my shoulder. As I head for the exit, I pause, looking back at the empty rink.

This is who I am. This is what I know. Everything else? It's just noise.

And I've got no time for distractions. Not when my spot on the team is on the line.

I push through the doors, stepping out into the cool Chicago night. Tomorrow, I'll deal with the fallout—the angry calls from management and the disappointed looks from Gabi.

But tonight? Tonight, I'm going to find the nearest bar and do my best to forget Lexi Brookes ever existed.

Even if it's only for a few hours.