Power Pucking Play (Chicago Blades)

13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

Gio

I wake up with a grin that could rival the Cheshire Cat's and a spring in my step that'd make Tigger jealous. It's game day in Seattle, but that's not why I'm floating on cloud nine.

Nope, I'm riding high because I managed to render Lexi Brookes speechless last night. Speechless. For a woman like Lexi who never seems to shut up, that's not an easy feat.

Take that, Pulitzer.

As I head down to the hotel restaurant for the team breakfast, I'm half-expecting to see Lexi there, notebook in hand, ready to grill me about last night. But the only familiar faces I see are my teammates, looking various shades of grumpy.

I notice Jacob first, his sandy-brown hair sticking up in all directions and a scowl etched on his face. I plop down next to him with a grin.

"Someone looks like they had a good night," he grumbles, stabbing at his eggs.

"I did indeed," I reply smugly.

"Did you finally figure out how to tie your own skates?"

"Hilarious." I reach for the coffee pot sitting on the table. "You write your own material, or does Gabi help you with the big words?"

"Whew. I take it back. It's too early for these kinds of jabs. My brain is far too slow to come up with witty retorts."

From across the table, Evan Daniels, our perpetually grumpy goalie, grunts something that might be agreement. Or indigestion. With Evan, it's hard to tell.

"What's the matter, Daniels?" I grab a plate, piling scrambled eggs onto it in a heap. "Did they run out of prune juice at the retirement home?"

Evan fixes me with a glare that could curdle milk. "You're awful chipper for a guy who's about to get his ass handed to him on the ice tonight."

I grin, undeterred. "Aw, come on, Gramps. Where's your team spirit?"

"I left it in my bathroom next to my dentures," Evan deadpans, returning to his oatmeal.

Jacob leans in, lowering his voice. "Seriously, though. What's got you so...bouncy? You hook up with a fan or something?"

I nearly choke on my coffee. "What? No! Jesus, Jake. I'm just...in a good mood. Is that a goddamned crime now?"

He shows his palms to the air. "All right, all right. Just checking. You've been a little...off ever since Lexi started following you around."

At the mention of Lexi, my stomach does a little flip. Real smooth, De Luca. Way to play it cool.

"Speaking of," Jacob continues, glancing around the restaurant. "Where is your shadow this morning? I half-expected her to be camped outside your door."

"No idea." I shrug, aiming for nonchalance and probably missing by a continent or two. "Maybe she finally realized how boring my life is and gave up."

Evan snorts. "Yeah, right. And I'm secretly a unicorn."

"You know, that explains a lot about you, Daniels." I point my fork at him. "The horn makes perfect sense."

The comment earns me another death glare from our resident grouch.

As we finish breakfast and head to the rink for morning skate, I can't help but scan the lobby for a familiar blonde head. But Lexi's nowhere to be seen.

It's fine, I tell myself. She's probably just sleeping in. Or working on her article. Or realizing what a colossal mistake last night was and booking the first flight back to Chicago.

Fuck. Nope, not going there.

Morning skate is a blur of drills and strategy sessions. Coach is in rare form, barking orders like a drill sergeant with a hangover.

"De Luca! Remove your head from your ass, and focus!"

I wince, realizing I've missed the last three passes. Get it together, man. You've got a game to win.

As we're wrapping up, Jacob skates over, concern etched on his face. "You okay, man? You seem...distracted."

I force a laugh. "Me? Nah. Just, you know, visualizing how I'm gonna demolish these Seattle dickheads tonight."

He doesn't look convinced, but mercifully drops it. "Right. Well, just remember: keep your head up and your stick down. As much as I appreciate you having my back, you and I don't need to get into any more brawls."

"Duly noted."

Back at the hotel, I try to nap, but my mind won't settle down.

Where the hell is Lexi anyway? Is she avoiding me? Did I do something wrong?

Did last night mean anything to her, or was it just another angle for her story?

By the time we head back to the arena for the game, I'm a ball of nervous energy. Not exactly an ideal pre-game mindset.

As we file off the bus, I'm still scanning the crowd for any sign of Lexi.

Nothing. Great. Just great.

In the locker room, I go through my usual pre-game routine on autopilot. Tape my stick. Adjust my pads. Try not to think about how soft Lexi's lips were or how perfectly she fit against me.

Dammit.

"All right, boys," Coach bellows, snapping me back to reality. "Let's show these West Coast wankers how real hockey is played!"

We file out onto the ice for warm-ups, and I consider the fact that she's probably just busy.

It's not like we're anything more than interviewer and interviewee....

Right?

It's a thought that's almost easy to believe. And then I see her.

She’s standing rink-side, looking annoyingly sexy-as-hell in jeans and a Blades hoodie. Her golden hair falls in waves over her shoulders, and I remember how it felt tangled in my fingers.

Our eyes meet, and for a second, I forget how to skate.

Then she does something that nearly knocks me on my ass. She holds up a jersey—my jersey—and gives me a little wink.

Holy shit. Lexi Brookes is actually rooting for me.

I must be grinning like an idiot because Jacob skates by, smirking. "You okay there, lover boy? Or do you need a minute alone?"

I shove him playfully. "Shut up and skate, Casanova."

The game itself is a blur of action and adrenaline. But for once, I'm not looking for fights or trying to prove anything. I'm just...playing. And it feels good.

We're up by two in the third period when one of Seattle's goons decides to get chippy. He slams me into the boards, hard enough that I see stars.

For a split second, I'm ready to drop gloves and show him exactly why they call me The Icebreaker. But then I catch sight of Lexi in the stands, my jersey stretched over her Blades hoodie, and something in me shifts.

Instead of retaliating, I shake it off and get back in the game.

We end up winning 4-1, and I manage to rack up two assists without a single penalty.

As the final buzzer sounds, my eyes search the crowd for Lexi. She's on her feet, cheering with the rest of the Blades fans who made the trip. When our eyes meet, she gives me a thumbs up and a smile that could melt the ice.

In the locker room, the guys are in high spirits, whooping and hollering like we've just won the Stanley Cup instead of a regular season game.

"Hey, De Luca," Evan calls out, a rare smile cracking his usually dour expression. "Not bad out there. For a hothead."

I grin, tossing a sweaty towel at him. "Thanks, Gramps. Not so bad yourself. For a fossil."

Jacob slings an arm around my shoulders. "Seriously, though. What got into you out there? I've never seen you play so...clean."

I shrug, trying to play it cool. "Just felt right, you know? Sometimes you gotta let the game speak for itself."

He eyes me suspiciously. "Uh-huh. And it has nothing to do with Miss Media Mouth who was wearing your jersey?"

Damn. Can't get anything past this guy.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," I say, but I can feel the heat rising in my cheeks.

Jacob just laughs. "Sure, sure. Just be careful, all right? Mixing business and pleasure never ends well. Especially not with the press."

I nod, suddenly sobering. He's right, of course. Whatever's happening between Lexi and me, it's complicated. Dangerous, even.

But as I shower and change, all I can think about is finding her. Talking to her. Maybe even kissing her again, if I'm feeling particularly brave. Or stupid.

I'm just about to head out when Coach stops me. "Good game out there, De Luca. Keep this up, and we might clinch a shot at the playoffs."

I grin. "Thanks, Coach. I'll do my best."

As I push through the arena doors, the cool Seattle night hits me like a wake-up call. What am I doing? Lexi's probably long gone by now, working on her article or whatever.

But then I see her, leaning against one of the building's walls in the shadows, a sly smile on her pretty face. And she's still wearing my jersey over her hoodie. "I was wondering when you'd come out."

I try to act nonchalant, but my heart is pounding in my chest. "Yeah, well. You know me. Always fashionably late."

"Nice game, by the way. I was starting to think you'd forgotten how to play without throwing a punch."

I lean against the wall next to her, close enough that our shoulders brush. "What can I say? I'm full of surprises."

She turns to face me, her expression softening. "Yeah, you are."

For a moment, we just stand there, the tension between us thick enough to skate on. Then Lexi clears her throat.

"Honestly, though," she says, hazel eyes unblinking. "You really did play well."

I grin. "Why, Lexi Brookes, was that actually a compliment? Should I check the sky for flying pigs?"

She exhales hard, shoulders slumping slightly. "Don't let it go to your head, De Luca. I'm still planning on writing about all your flaws in excruciating detail."

"I'd be sorely disappointed if you didn't."

She laughs, and my stomach flips as she stands in front of me, looking up at me with those big hazel eyes. I can't resist any longer.

I lean down and press my lips against hers, and it's like fireworks exploding behind my closed eyelids. She tastes like victory and adrenaline and everything I've ever fucking wanted.

It's softer than last night, less urgent. But it still sends electricity zinging through my veins. I cup her face in my hand, pulling her closer to me. Our bodies fit together like puzzle pieces.

We break away, both panting slightly. "Wow," Lexi says, her cheeks flushed.

"Yeah," I reply breathlessly.

"We seriously have a problem."

"I'm pretty sure kissing isn't an addiction, Lexi." I wrap an arm around her, inhaling her subtle, honeyed scent. "But I'm willing to find out."

She rolls her eyes but doesn't push me away as I lean in for another kiss, deeper this time. I can feel her smile against my lips, and it only makes me want her more.

God help me, the woman is like a drug. Addictive and irresistible.

The night at the All-Star after-party game, I'd known it then...and tried to ignore it.

Ignoring it was better than admitting it—admitting I wanted a woman I should hate.

A woman whose entire job was to hold me accountable.

All those segments, interviews, and articles about me disappointing my own fans.

She was right. As a hockey player, I'm an impulsive, aggressive man. I'm not good at self-control.

And when it comes to Lexi, I'm even worse at control.

That's the problem—has been the problem since the first night we slept together.

I want her in every way possible.

Not just as a one-night stand or fuck buddy.

I want all of her.

That sexy, perfectly proportioned, curvy body. That witty mind of hers. And her fiery spirit.

I know it's a dangerous game to play with someone like Lexi. She could easily break me and my reputation with one wrong move.

We both have our own demons, our own secrets and scars. Scars that run deep.

Scars that still sting when at last she pulls away, her pink lips swollen and hazel eyes shining under the parking lot lights. "We should stop before we can't," she says breathlessly.

I nod, reluctantly agreeing. As much as I want to take her back to my hotel room and never let her go, it's not fair to either of us.

I brush a strand of hair behind her ear, lingering for just a second longer before releasing her. "You're right." I wait a beat, finding myself smiling. "And you know how much I hate that."

She laughs, her hand resting lightly on my chest. "I know." Her gaze falls to the ground and then back to me. "I should probably get back to writing up notes from tonight's game," Lexi says reluctantly, pulling away from me.

I groan, not wanting this moment to end. "Fuck. Can't it wait? We can just stay here all night and kiss."

She chuckles but shakes her head. "As much as I would love to do that, deadlines are a real thing." She leans in for a quick kiss before heading towards her rental car. "I'll see you tomorrow."

I watch as she drives away, feeling both elated and frustrated, and wondering if I've finally found something worth fighting for off the ice.