Page 1 of Icy Pucking Play

Chapter 1

Sophie

Some days, it's better to stay in bed.

Every once in a while, this type of day rears its ugly head.

It’s the kind of day when your alarm doesn't go off, your coffee maker decides to die a dramatic death, and your cat decides your last clean pair of pantyhose makes the perfect scratching post. Luckily, I don’t have a cat and I almost never wear pantyhose.

Today, however, is most definitely one of those days.

And it's not even nine a.m. yet.

I should have known something was up when I walked intoSports News Now's downtown Chicago offices and found my desk covered in a mountain of papers that definitely weren't there when I left yesterday at eight p.m.

Being the twenty-three-year-old in the office and the newest intern means inheriting everyone else's overflow work, and from the looks of it, the entire sports department has simultaneously decided to hand me what they can’t be bothered to work on.

"Morning, Sophie!" my fellow intern Brad calls out as he passes by, somehow managing to balance three coffee cups and a stack of folders. "Heads up. Lexi's looking for you."

My stomach drops.

Lexi Brookes is my boss and a total badass. I have the tendency around her to stress-ramble to the point where I just can’t shut up.

"Did she say why?" I call after Brad, but he's already disappeared around the corner, leaving me alone with my mounting anxiety and the Empire State Building of paperwork on my desk.

I check my phone. No missed calls. No urgent emails. Nothing that would explain why the boss wants to see me. Unless...

Oh God.

Yesterday's article. The one where I'd somehow managed to credit the Blades' backup goalie with scoring fifteen goals last season. Which would have been impressive if, you know…goalies actually left their net to score goals on a regular basis. Shit…that must be it.

My phone buzzes, making me jump.

Lexi:I need to meet with you in my office at 3 PM.

Fan-freaking-tastic.

That means I’ve got six hours until then. Six hours to contemplate all the ways I've managed to screw up my dream job before it even really began.

I need to pee. Actually, scratch that—I need to throw up. Both. Definitely both.

Grabbing my phone and my dignity (what's left of it anyway), I head for the restroom, eyes glued to my screen as I reread yesterday's article for the hundredth time. Maybe if I can point out all the things I've done right, Lexi will overlook that one tiny but massive, career-ending mistake.

I'm so focused on my phone that I don't notice the sign on the door says “Men”.

I enter the bathroom, and when I finally look up, I make direct eye contact with none other than the starting Chicago Blades goalie—Evan "Ice Man" Daniels.

At the urinal.

Did I mention he's using said urinal? And, good God, I seeallof him.

For a moment, time stands still.

Me, frozen in the doorway like a deer in headlights. Him, equally frozen mid-stream, those gorgeous ice-blue eyes widening in recognition.

I wish I could run and hide, but the damage has been done. He definitely recognizes me. I spent three months bringing him coffee and stats sheets during my recent internship with the Blades.

This isn’t the first time I’ve done something incredibly stupid in front of him. I managed to drop his protein shake all over his custom dress shoes that one time. I wanted to desperately disappear that time as well.

---