Page 41 of Broken As Puck

Whatever the case, I didn’t like that people could tell he was into me. That was dangerous to my career.

“Not once,” he confirmed. “So, are you interested in him too?”

I swallowed. “It doesn’t matter, because nothing can happen between us. Fraternization between staff and players isn’t allowed.”

He grinned. “Actually, it’s just discouraged. I get what you’re saying, though. But keep in mind that your contract with the team is only temporary, and Matthews is stupidly smitten. Maybe, when the contract is up, something could happen then?”

I considered how best to respond and decided that, in this case, silence was probably the safest strategy. Ignoring his comments about Matt and me, I shot him a smile and said, “I’ll be in touch about the fundraiser.”

I headed toward the stairs before he could ask anything else, detouring to the kitchen for coffee. When I returned to my desk, I found Stella sitting at the adjoining desk, waiting for me.

“Good morning,” I greeted her.

“Good morning.” She crossed her legs and studied me closely. “How are things going with the documentary?”

“Fine,” I replied, wondering why it felt like a trick question.

“Is it?” She tilted her head to the side. “There aren’t any problems that have come up?”

“Noooo?” I dragged the word out, growing more uncertain by the second. “Why?”

Stella’s foot beat a rapid tattoo on the floor. “It’s just that I assumed we’d have to troubleshoot something by this point. The fact we haven’t makes me nervous. I feel like we’re waiting for the other shoe to drop, except in this case, that might mean a fully grown professional hockey player doing something massively stupid or throwing an adult tantrum.”

“I get it.” The initial interviews had gone off without a hitch. Even Delacrue had been on his best behavior. It was good, but considering their reputation, I’d expected something to go wrong by now too. “It’s all progressing as it should be, though. I have the all-clear to invite them to film the home game tonight, right?”

“Of course. Can you confirm they’ll be here? Mr. Trent wants to know.”

I nodded. “I’ll check now.”

I took my phone to one of the meeting rooms, shut the door so no one would be able to hear my call, and found Kim’s number in my contact list. I dialed it and waited for an answer.

“Kim Johns,” she said briskly.

“Hi, Kim, it’s Chelsey from the Chicago Chaos.”

“Oh, hi, Chelsey. You aren’t calling to let me know there’s an issue with filming today, are you?”

“No, of course not. I just wanted to confirm it’s all a go.”

“As far as I know, it is. We’ll be there a couple of hours before the game.”

“Fantastic.”

We ended the call, and I updated Stella, then plunged headfirst into coordinating the technical setup with Max via email and a handful of phone conversations. We’d gone over the basics previously, but there were so many more details involved for a full game than there had been for filming training and interviews.

Before I knew it, lunch had passed and I realized with a groan that I’d forgotten to pack anything to eat. There was a sandwich place nearby, so I grabbed my handbag, slung it over my shoulder, and called out to Stella that she could get a hold of me by phone if she needed me.

The faint chemical scent of the rink filled my nostrils as I took the stairs down. The players had cleared off the ice and cleaning staff were tidying the place up prior to the game tonight.

As I passed the changing rooms, I glanced over and spotted Matt and Austin standing outside. Austin was speaking with his characteristically unreadable expression while Matt rolled up the sleeves of his button-down.

I slowed, gawking at his exposed forearms. They were thick and muscular, flexing with each movement. Blond hair dusted his golden skin, and a couple of freckles prevented him from looking photoshopped. He switched arms and his biceps bulged.

Damn, this was practically arm porn.

He raised his head in response to something Austin said and his gaze locked with mine. It was then that I realized I’d stopped walking and was now standing motionless, staring at him like he was some kind of real-life thirst trap.

My face flamed, and I ducked my head and raced for the exit.