Page 46 of Power Pucking Play

I blink, caught off guard by the sudden change of topic. "The feature? What does that have to do with anything?"

Coach leans forward, his expression serious. "Think about it, De Luca. You really want some reporter digging into your past, airing all your dirty laundry? Especially now, when your position on the team is already shaky?"

For a moment, I'm tempted. It would be so easy to call Lexi, tell her the deal's off. To go back to the way things were before when she was just another nosy reporter, and I was just the bad boy of hockey.

But then I remember the way she looked at me in Seattle.

The way she cheered for me during the game, wearing my jersey like a badge of honor. The softness in her eyes when we talked about Nonna, about my parents, about all of it.

"No," I say, surprising myself with the firmness in my voice. "I'm not calling it off."

Coach raises an eyebrow. "You sure about that? This Brookes woman's made a career out of tearing you apart in print. What makes you think this time will be any different?"

I stand up, suddenly feeling too confined in this tiny office. "Because I trust her," I say, the words feeling strange but right on my tongue. "She's...she's different, Coach. She's not just looking for dirt. She wants the real story."

"And you think you can give her that without it blowing up in your face?"

"Guess we'll find out. I've got an on-the-record interview with her tonight. I'm not backing out now."

Coach sighs, rubbing his temples. "You're playing with fire here, De Luca. I hope you know what you're doing."

"Yeah," I mutter as I head for the door. "Me too."

As I step back onto the ice, my mind's a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. Fear, anger, determination...and something else. Something that feels a lot like hope.

"Everything okay?" Jacob asks as I skate up to him. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

I force a grin. "Nah, just the ghost of my career past. Apparently, I'm one fight away from early retirement."

Jacob winces. "Ouch. Corso laying down the law?"

"Something like that," I nod. "Guess I'll have to start channeling my inner Gandhi on the ice."

He snorts. "Right. And I'll start figure skating. Seriously, though, you gonna be okay with this?"

I shrug, trying to ignore the knot of anxiety in my stomach. "Do I have a choice? It's either play nice or kiss my spot with the Blades goodbye."

"There are worse things than being nice, you know," Jacob says, nudging me with his elbow. "Who knows? Maybe this is your chance to show everyone the Gio that I know and love."

"Aw, you getting sentimental on me now?"

"I'm just saying...I've known you since we were in grade school. You've always been a good guy, Gio. Don't let what happens on the ice define you."

I give him a half-smile, grateful for his words of encouragement. "Thanks, dude. I'll try to remember that when I'm getting pummeled on the ice."

We both laugh and head back to join the rest of the team for practice.

I think of Lexi, of the way she sees right through my bullshit. Of how, for the first time in my life, I actually want someone to know the real me. Not the tough guy.

Not the big bad defenseman. Not the enforcer.

But just Gio.

Maybe this feature is a blessing in disguise. A chance to finally shed this persona that I've been clinging to for so long.

Practice flies by in a blur of drills and strategy sessions. By the time we're done, I'm dripping with sweat, and my muscles are screaming, but my head feels clearer than it has in days.

As I'm changing in the locker room, my phone buzzes with a text from Lexi.

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