Page 43 of Power Pucking Play

"I'm not sure exactly," Sophie admits. "But he seemed pretty excited about whatever he found. I thought you should know."

My blood runs cold. This is exactly what I've been trying to avoid. If Parker gets his hands on any damaging information about Gio, he'll run with it.

He won't give a damn if he exposes Gio in the process.

"Thanks, Sophie," I say, my mind racing. "Keep an ear out, will you? Let me know if you hear anything else."

"Will do, boss! Oh, and Lexi?"

"Yeah?"

"Be careful, okay? I know you and Gio have this whole antagonistic thing going on, but...he's not a bad guy. Not really."

I swallow hard, thinking of last night's kiss. Of the vulnerability in Gio's eyes when he talked about his family. "Yeah, Soph. I know."

As soon as I hang up, I'm pacing the room like a caged animal. This changes everything. I need to find out what Parker knows and shut him down before he can do any real damage.

The journalist in me says to follow the lead, to dig deeper and find out what Parker's been working on uncovering. It could be the story of a lifetime.

But the part of me that's gotten to know Gio—the real Gio, not just the bad boy of hockey—balks at the idea. He's trusted me with parts of himself he's never shown anyone else. Can I really betray that trust? And if I don't, will it end up costing me my job?

I grab my laptop, fingers hovering over the keys.

I should be writing up notes for the upcoming televised feature. Should be following up on Parker's leads. Should be doing anything other than thinking about Gio's smile or the way he looked at me after the game last night.

Instead, I find myself Googling "ethical journalism" and "conflict of interest in reporting".

Because nothing says professional like a crisis of conscience mid-assignment.

A knock at the door startles me out of my ethical spiral. I open it to find Gio, dark-haired and green-eyed, leaning against the doorframe, looking unfairly amazin in jeans and a Blades T-shirt. My traitorous heart skips a beat.

"Morning, sunshine," he grins. "Thought you might need this." He holds up a cup of coffee—the good stuff from the café down the street, not the swill from the hotel lobby.

I narrow my eyes, even as I accept the offering. "What's the catch, De Luca? You trying to bribe the press?"

"Me? Never. Can't a guy bring coffee to his favorite pain-in-the-ass reporter without ulterior motives?"

"Not in my experience," I mutter, but I can feel a smile tugging at my lips. "Come on in. But no funny business, got it? I'm working."

Gio raises an eyebrow as he follows me into the room. "At ten a.m. on a Monday? Someone's gunning for employee of the month."

I roll my eyes, trying to ignore the way my heart races when he sits next to me on the bed. "Some of us take our jobs seriously, you know. We can't all make a living chasing a rubber disc around."

"Well, shit. And here I thought we were making progress." He looks over at my open laptop. "Speaking of which...whatcha doing?"

"Just some research for work," I say, trying to keep my voice even as I close my laptop.

Gio quirks an eyebrow at me, clearly not buying it. "Sure, you are." He crosses his arms over his chest and studies me intently. "You okay?"

I let out a shaky breath, swallowing down this morning's guilt. "Yeah, just stressed about this assignment."

He reaches over to tuck a messy strand of hair behind my ear. "Well, don't worry. You're the best damn reporter I know. You'll nail it."

I can feel my cheeks heat up at his words, but I turn to face him, suddenly serious. "Gio, what are we doing?"

His smile falters. "What do you mean?"

"This." I gesture between us. "The coffee, the flirting, the...kissing. It's not exactly professional behavior."

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