Page 16 of Icy Pucking Play

2. Don't stand in someone's line of sight

3. Don't walk on their "line" (whatever that means)

4. Replace divots (grass chunks you murder)

5. Fix ball mark chunks on green

6. Keep up with pace of play (???)

7. DON'T HIT ANYONE WITH BALL

Just as I'm finally drifting off, another terrible thought hits me: What if golf courses don't serve coffee?

Oh God.

I'm so screwed.

My alarm goes off way too soon, but I drag myself out of bed with something approaching determination.

I can do this. I once covered an entire curling tournament in college without understanding a single thing that happened.

Golf can't be that different, right?

"You've got this," Cynthia says as I head out, looking surprisingly put together in my borrowed golf outfit. "Just be yourself. The Sophie who helped his daughter with math yesterday. The one who actually cares about people's stories, not just writing them."

I blink at her, touched. "That was...surprisingly insightful."

"I have my moments." She hands me a travel mug of coffee. "But also, maybe try not to kill anyone. I'm pretty sure that would hurt your chances with both the feature and the guy."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence."

"That's what roommates are for!" she calls after me. "Text me if you need bail money!"

I head out into the pre-dawn Chicago morning, golf clubs rattling in the trunk of my car, trying to channel my inner athlete. I can do this. I can totally do this.

And if I can't? Well, at least I'll look cute failing, thanks to Cynthia's cute clothes.

Small victories, right?

Chapter 6

Evan

You invited a reporter to our Saturday game?" Mike Callahan, my longtime friend and fellow Blades defenseman, looks at me like I've lost my mind. "You? Mr. 'The-Media-Is-The-Devil' Daniels?"

"She's not..." I trail off, watching Sophie attempt to load her clubs onto a golf cart without dropping them.

She's muttering to herself—something that sounds suspiciously like "stick-soccer"—and I have to bite back a smile. "It's complicated."

"Oh, it's something all right." Mike grins. "Need help over there, Bennett?"

"Nope!" Her voice has that overly bright tone she used to put on during press conferences when she was nervous but trying to hide it. "All good! Just...physics!"

I remember the first time I heard that tone—her first day as the Blades' intern, when she'd somehow managed to memorize every player's coffee order but couldn't remember which locker room was which.

She'd walked into the coaches' room three times before someone took pity on her.

At least she's wearing proper golf attire so we’ve got that going for us.

---