Page 101 of Double Puck

"You've got mascara right—" I touch the corner of my own eye.

She swipes at it with her thumb, checks her reflection in her phone screen, then glares at me. "This is your fault."

"You're welcome."

She crouches to collect the papers scattered across the floor. I drop down beside her and start handing them over, sneaking glances at spreadsheets covered in my name.

"Oh, by the way." She stacks the pages against her palm, evening the edges with a tap. "Colin wants me in Vegas with the team this weekend."

I stop reaching for a loose page with way too many red columns for my liking. "Vegas?"

"Yeah. For the away game." She looks sideways at me, then hides her expression again. "He said he wants eyes on you during the road trip."

Three days in Vegas? With Darcy?

"That's the best news I've heard since you told me you'd never been on a date."

She doesn't even try to hide the smile this time. "I'm traveling in a professional capacity, Beck. I'll be working. And so will you."

I gesture broadly at the wrecked desk, the scattered papers, and the shredded blue fabric peeking out from under her chair.

"Right. Very professional environment we've got here."

"What happens in my office stays in my office."

"What happens in Vegas, though—"

"Don't."

"What are you packing? Out of curiosity."

"A pantsuit."

"Noted. I'll bring the scissors."

She laughs and the sound bounces off the walls of her tiny office. Slowly, the office starts to resemble what it did when I busted in here right after practice this afternoon.

"So how are you feeling?" She sits back on her heels, papers gathered against her stomach. "After this morning. The film session."

I shrug, rolling my neck. "Fine."

She waits for the rest.

"Someone called the turnover a 'classic Beck play.'" I pick at the carpet. "The mistake I own. That part's fair. But framing it like it's who I am?" I shake my head. "That pissed me off more than the actual criticism."

Darcy looks at me, a little surprised by my tone as she stands. "Are you okay?"

I shrug and pull her against me. "I will be. Once I sneak you into my suite in Vegas."

"Vegas is still part of your evaluation," she says, letting me wrap my arms around her. "So make sure you behave this weekend."

I tilt her face up, kissing her softly. "I promise absolutely nothing."

Dr. Poppy Sinclair's office might be the nicest room in the entire arena.

And I say that as a man who lives in a mansion.

Rolling up early for my second 'mandatory' session before I join the team and take off to Vegas, I see she has two huge balcony doors cracked open, the wild ocean breeze rolling in off the water on a gorgeous sunny Beachside morning.