Page 11 of In the Defensive Zone with My Enemy

I hold out the bottom of my practice jersey with the blazing sun logo and crown that represents the team. “It appears I am.”

“You didn’t tell me that last night.”

I grunt. “You didn’t ask.”

She glances back and forth as if to check who might be listening in on our conversation, then lowers her voice to a rough whisper. “Because you said you were one of the workmen.”

“No, I didn’t.”

She crosses her arms and tilts her head. “You had a toolbox.”

I give her my best noncommittal expression. “I never said it was mine.” My sarcasm creeps in before she can reply. “You know, for a reporter, you don’t seem to be able to keep your facts straight.”

She lets out a soft gasp. “I’m a journalist.”

I immediately regret my words—I really didn’t intend to insult her, but there’s something about her that seems to bring out my defense mechanism. Probably because she’s already jotting down who knows what about us.

“Sorry. Journalist.”

She drops her arms, blinking those big eyes as if she’s suddenly unsure of herself. “You were fixing a locker door, so…”

She really doesn’t want to let this go.

“So you made an assumption. I didn’t think reporters—pardon me—journalists were supposed to do that.”

What is wrong with me? Why does this woman bring out the snarky side I normally only share with my sister? But Kinsley’s required to love me since we’re family. If I keep this up, Sophie will use that pen of hers to slash and burn me. It’s happened before.

Sophie straightens her back and lifts her chin, looking unfairly cute yet provocative in a bristly way. “I won’t make that mistake again.”

She spins around, and speed walks out of the locker room. The oversized bag she’s carrying swings behind her as if she’s toting something heavy inside, which adds to my curiosity about her. Maybe she carries an arsenal of notebooks and pens in there for backup.

Gabe chuckles as he approaches. “Still wearing that barbed wire, I see.”

I drag my attention away from the empty doorway. “She’s a reporter.”

“Journalist.” He considers my words, then nods. “And we need her right now.”

I turn and grab my gloves. “Wasn’t it you who told me to watch my tongue around them?”

He smirks and puts his hands on his hips. “Yes, and that includes not insulting them.”

I press my lips together. He’s right. That wasn’t my finest moment. “You’re right. I’ll apologize when I get a chance.”

Gabe bumps his fist against my upper arm. “I appreciate that. You’re the captain, so the guys are going to take their lead from you.”

I want to counter with a negative comment.It’s obvious Jayce and his buddies already have a problem with my presence. Somehow, I don’t think they’re going to accept directions from me anytime soon. But I’m here, and I made a commitment to Gabe. I’ll do my best to show up like the man he expects me to be.

Even if it means talking to a very attractive journalist with a secret agenda.

CHAPTER 4

SOPHIE

To say I’m mad would be an understatement. Fuming is a better word. Actually, I quite like that word.

Fuming.Fuuuuuming…

I can hear it in my head, drawn out like that, which describes my current state of mind perfectly. I’m just not sure what ticks me off more—that Luke intentionally avoided telling me he was a hockey player or his comment about my journalism skills. The man clearly doesn’t understand the difference between a reporter and a journalist. He’s the one who should be fuming at the moment—over his ignorance.

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