Page 58 of Icy Pucking Play

Oh God.

Sure, I type back, trying to ignore my racing heart.I'll be here for a while.

"Lover boy coming to visit?" Brad asks, reading over my shoulder shamelessly.

"Don't you have anywhere else to be?"

"Nope! But I do have a date, so I'll leave you to your crisis." He starts gathering his things. "Just...read what you actually wrote before you panic, okay?"

Once he's gone, I force myself to look at my drafts. Really look at them.

And maybe Brad's right. Because these words...they're not exposing secrets or digging up dirt. They're celebrating small moments. Quiet strength. The kind of love that shows up every day in hockey practices and homework help and chocolate chip pancakes.

My phone buzzes again:

Evan:Be there in an hour. Bringing coffee.

I smile despite myself. Why does this guy with a permanent frown make me so giddy? What the hell is wrong with me anyway?

Somehow Evan Daniels has gone from being my story to being my...what exactly?

That's the question, isn't it?

The one I need to answer before he gets here. Before I have to decide if I'm a journalist or...something else.

Something more.

I look at my laptop screen, at the words I've written about his family. About him.

Then I look at my phone background—a picture Natalia took of us at her last game, both of us wearing matching team shirts, both of us laughing at something I can't even remember.

Both of us looking at each other like...

Shit.

Shitshitshitshit.

That’s the problem. Right there. Because that's not how a reporter looks at her subjects. That's how someone looks when they're...

The security desk calls up: "Ms. Bennett? Evan Daniels is here to see you."

Right. Okay.

Time to be professional. Time to set boundaries. Time to remember why I'm here.

Time to stop falling for the story.

Even if the story has somehow become the best part of my life.

Chapter 16

Evan

The night security guard atSports News Nowdefinitely thinks I've lost my mind.

Can't really blame him—this is the third time I've started toward Sophie's cubicle, then turned around and retreated to the elevator. The two piping hot cups of coffee in my hands are probably getting cold at this point.

"Everything okay there, Mr. Daniels?" he asks after my latest about-face.

---