Page 56 of Icy Pucking Play

My stomach drops. Right. The feature. The actual reason I'm supposed to be studying these videos.

The thing I'm trying very hard not to complicate with feelings and couch make outs and endless fantasies about what it would be like to be his girlfriend or even...

"Thanks," I mutter, gathering my notes. "How's my hair?"

"Like someone who's been running their hands through it stress-writing for six hours."

"Perfect."

Lexi's office is exactly as intimidating as the first time I walked in here many months ago, but now there's an added layer of guilt to deal with. Because spread across her desk are drafts of my feature—drafts that paint an intimate portrait of the Daniels family through eyes that might be a little too adoring.

"Sophie!" She looks up with a smile that makes me nervous. "Just the person I wanted to see. Have a seat."

I perch on the edge of the chair, trying not to fidget. "Is something wrong with the drafts?"

"Wrong? No, these are...these are incredible." She shuffles through the pages. "The access you've gotten, the details...it's like being right there with them."

My chest tightens. "Really?"

"Absolutely. The way you describe Evan with Natalia and Ryland...it's so personal. So real." She leans forward. "How did you get him to open up like this?"

How did I get him to open up?

Well, Lexi, funny story—it might have something to do with the late-night horror movie sessions, or the stolen kisses between practices, or the way he looks at me when he thinks no one's watching...

"Just...good journalism?" I offer weakly.

"It's more than that." She picks up one particular page. "Like this, 'Some call Evan Daniels the Ice Man, but they've never seen him teach his daughter to butterfly slide across their kitchen floor in sock feet. They’ve never witnessed the quiet moments where being icy means having a foundation strong enough to hold everyone else up...'"

Oh God. I wrote that the night of our couch session, still warm from his kisses and drunk on possibility.

"That's, um, very preliminary," I stammer. "First draft stuff. Very rough."

"It's beautiful." She sets it down carefully. "And exactly what we need. This human side of the Ice Man...it's gold, Sophie."

The praise should make me happy. Instead, it makes me feel slightly sick.

"You don't think it's too...personal?"

"Personal is what sells! People want to know the man behind the mask." She starts making notes. "We could expand this angle. Maybe do a series on hockey's most notorious loner becoming a family man..."

"I don't know if that's…"

"Trust me, this is exactly what your career needs. What the site needs." She looks up with that sharp smile. "In fact, I'm thinking we move up the publication date. Strike while the iron's hot."

My heart stops. "Move it up? But I promised Evan…"

"That you'd run everything by him first? Of course." She waves a hand dismissively. "Send him the draft. I'm sure he'll love it."

Will he though?

Will he love seeing our private moments turned into copy? Our quiet conversations transformed into pull quotes?

Will he love discovering that every time he let his guard down, I was taking notes?

"Sophie?" Lexi's voice breaks through my spiral. "Everything okay?"

"Fine!" My voice comes out too high. "Just...thinking about edits."

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