Page 39 of Icy Pucking Play

"Okay." He sobers. "You're worried about crossing lines with the Daniels story."

"Yes. No. Maybe?" I groan. "Lexi wants me to dig deeper into the family angle. The whole 'former NHL bad boy becomes devoted single dad' thing."

"And you don't want to because...?"

"Because it's not my story to tell! Because Evan trusts me. Because..." I lower my voice to almost a whisper. "Because last night he kissed me in his kitchen and it was perfect and now everything's complicated."

"Aha!” Brad's triumphant shout draws looks from nearby cubicles. "I knew it!”

“Jesus. Could you be any louder?"

"Shit. Sometimes my mouth has volume issues. Sorry about that.” He wheels closer, dropping his voice. "But seriously, you kissed?"

"Among other things," I mutter, then quickly add at his raised eyebrows, "Nothing like that! Just...there may have been some chocolate sauce involved."

"Kinky."

"From ice cream! We had ice cream with Natalia after her game and…" I stop, realizing I'm just digging myself deeper.

"So let me get this straight." Brad starts counting on his fingers. "You went to his kid's game, had ice cream, and then made out in his kitchen?"

"When you say it like that..."

"Like what? Like you're basically dating?"

"We're not dating. We just...spent time together. And maybe kissed. And maybe I can't stop thinking about it."

My phone buzzes again.

Evan:Sorry but she’s bugging me again. Says she needs her good luck charm.

"You're smiling at your phone again," Brad observes.

"Am not."

"You know what I think?"

"No, but I'm sure you'll tell me."

"I think you're looking at this all wrong." He spins in his chair thoughtfully. "You're seeing it as a choice between your integrity and your feelings. But maybe it's simpler than that."

I look up from my phone. "How?"

"What's the real story here? Not what Lexi wants, not what might get clicks. What's the story that matters?"

I think about last night. About Natalia's excited chatter over ice cream. About the way Evan looked at me when he thought I wasn't watching. About all the little moments I've witnessed between him and Ryland...

"Uncle Evan?" Ryland had asked during a late practice last week. "How did you know?"

"Know what?"

"That you wanted to be a goalie. That this was your path."

Evan had been quiet for a moment, adjusting his pads. "I didn't, at first. Just knew I wanted to protect something. Give people something to count on."

"Is that why you're helping me? To give me something to count on?"

The look Evan gave his nephew then—proud and protective and so full of love—had made my heart ache.

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