Page 25 of Power Pucking Play

I place my gym bag in my locker, closing the metal door shut with a clang. “Of course, Miss Brookes. I’ll be waiting.” I give her a sly wink as she storms out of the locker room, her heels clicking loudly against the tile floor.

Chapter 8

Lexi

"All right, Sophie, hit me with what you've got," I say, sliding into a booth at Brewed Awakenings just a few blocks from the Blades' practice rink. It's been a whole day since my first early morning with Gio, and I'm still reeling from day one of this godawful assignment.

The Chicago traffic outside is heavy, even on Sunday morning when most people should be sleeping in. I'm desperately wishing I was doing exactly that right now.

I take a sip of my latte as Sophie slides into the booth across from me, her laptop already open and ready for work. Her dark hair is pulled back into a neat bun, her makeup done just so.

For once, the new intern seems pulled together and professional, instead of her usual disheveled appearance.

"All right, so I did some digging on Gio De Luca," Sophie says, tapping away at her keyboard. "And let me tell you, he's definitely not one to share personal details, that's for sure."

I nod in agreement, remembering our tense exchange in the locker room yesterday. "Yeah, he's definitelynotan open book. Imean, his sister Gabi is my best friend, and besides the fact that Gio and Gabs were raised by their Nonna, I don't know much else about him. I mean, yeah, I know his basic story. Where he went to school, how he came up through the hockey ranks. But I don't really know what makes him tick."

"Well, lucky for you, I've found some interesting things," Sophie says with a smirk. "For one, his bed never seems to be empty."

"Excuse me?"

"Yep." She pulls a few articles on her screen. "He's been linked to multiple women over the past few years, including models and actresses. Thing is, not a single one of them seems to have said a bad word about him. Seems like he's quite the gentleman."

"Gio? A gentleman? Come on. The guy has knocked out more teeth than the rest of his team...combined." I lean in, lowering my voice. "Remember, we're keeping this on the down-low. If Gabi finds out I'm digging into her brother's past like this..."

"My lips are sealed." Sophie mimes zipping her mouth shut. "And you're right. Gio's got a reputation for being a hothead on the ice, right? Well, apparently, it started way back in juniors..."

As Sophie rattles off a list of Gio's past indiscretions—most of which I already knew about—a ball of guilt builds in my gut. This isn't exactly ethical journalism.

But then again, when has Gio ever played fair? He's always been about winning at all costs. And if that means playing dirty on the ice, then so be it.

"Well," Sophie pushes through, "turns out just because he's tough on the ice, doesn't mean he can't be a sweetheart off of it. But that's not all. Apparently, he's also quite the philanthropist."

Now she has my attention. "Really? What kind of causes does he support?"

"He's been involved in various charity events and organizations, but his main focus seems to be on helpingunderprivileged youth get involved in sports. He even started his own hockey program for kids who couldn't afford to play otherwise."

I remember Gabi mentioning that. I'd assumed it was just a publicity stunt, but it seems like there's more to it.

"He also donates a portion of his salary to various children's hospitals and organizations," Sophie continues. "And he visits the kids regularly, bringing them gifts and spending time with them. In fact, there's this charity thing he does every year. Another kid thing, I think?"

"Kid thing? What kid thing?"

"I don't know the details, but he's supposed to meet with some Fulfill-A-Dream kid before today's game. It's not really publicized."

Huh. That's...unexpected. I can't imagine the Gio I know spending time with sick kids. But then again, maybe that's just another side to him that he keeps hidden from the public eye.

Sophie must catch my surprised expression because she adds, "See? Not such a bad guy after all."

"Looks can be deceiving," I say, remembering my initial impression of him.

"Well, if he's just pretending to be a good guy, then he deserves an Oscar. He's been doing this for years and never once made it public knowledge."

"That's...impressive," I admit begrudgingly.

"And that's not all. Rumor has it, he also volunteers at the local animal shelter on his days off."

I laugh in disbelief. "Okay, now you're just making stuff up."

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