Page 92 of Icy Pucking Play

"Isn't it? Then why were you having dinner with him?"

"Because I wanted to understand!" Her voice cracks. "Because you keep pushing me away and I thought if I knew why—if I understood what happened before..."

"So you went to him? The one person who…" I run a hand through my hair, trying to stay calm. "Do you have any idea what he did?"

"I do now." She wraps her arms around herself, and something in my chest aches at the gesture. "He told me. About him and Chelsea."

The words hit like a body check to the boards.

"Great." I laugh harshly. "Perfect. Did he tell you everything? About how they worked together to destroy my career? About how they used my family for content? About…"

"Stop." She steps closer, and I hate how much I want to pull her into my arms. "Whatever you're thinking right now, whatever you're afraid I'll do with this information…"

"I'm not afraid."

"Liar." She reaches for me, but I step back. "You're terrified. Of letting anyone in. Of trusting anyone. Of believing that maybe, just maybe, someone might choose you."

"Choose you?" Sophie had asked that first night in my kitchen, chocolate sauce on her shirt and love in her eyes. "I already did. Every day since I first saw you staying late to help rookie goalies. Every moment you let me see the real you."

I should have believed her then.

Should have trusted that she was different.

Should have...

"The way you chose to meet with Clark?" The words taste bitter.

"I chose wrong!" Her voice echoes through the parking lot. "I know that now. I knew it the moment he started talking about using this—using us—for a story."

"Us?" I gesture between us. "There is no us, Sophie. There's just a reporter who got too close and a story that got too personal."

"Is that really what you think? That everything between us was just...research?"

"Wasn't it?"

"No!" She swipes angrily at her eyes, and I hate that I put tears in them. "God, for someone so smart, you can be really stupid sometimes."

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me. You're so convinced everyone's going to hurt you that you don't see when someone's trying to love you!"

The word hangs between us like a shot neither of us saw coming.

"She loves all of us, Dad. Even when you're being grumpy," Natalia had said.

"It's not that simple," I'd told her.

"Yes, it is," my too-wise daughter had replied. "You're just making it complicated."

"Sophie…"

"I didn't go to Clark for a story," she says quickly, like she needs to get the words out before I can stop her. "I went because I thought if I understood what happened with Chelsea, I could understand why you keep pushing me away. Why you won't let yourself believe that someone might actually want you. Just you. Not the Ice Man or the star goalie or any of it. Just...you."

"That's not…"

"But you know what? I already knew why. Since the moment you looked at me like maybe, just maybe, I could be someone worth trusting."

"Stop."

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