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She looks innocent in a way that I immediately want to spoil, but never would because she's my friend's kid sister.
When I approach, she looks up at me and smiles when she recognizes me.
"Well, if it isn't Johnny Playfair," she says, extending her hand. "I'm Birdie Hart. Thanks so much for meeting with me."
"Recognized me on sight, huh?" I ask, sliding into the booth opposite her. "You did your research."
"I always do," she says.
"Well, I did my research on you, too," I tell her.
She cocks a fine eyebrow, giving me a half-smile. "Is that so?"
"You write some hard-hitting pieces," I tell her. "You're not about to come after me, are you?"
"That depends," she laughs. "You haven't done anything wrong, have you?"
Oh, the wrong things I'd like to do with her...
"I'm squeaky clean, Miss Hart," I grin.
"Are you now?" she asks, leaning forward. "I find that hard to believe. After all, every athlete has their secrets."
I chuckle. "You're not wrong. But I assure you, I'm just a boring old hockey player. Nothing scandalous to see here."
"Ah, but boring old hockey players can still be interesting," she says, taking out a notebook and pen. "So, let's get started, shall we?"
For the next hour, we talk about my career, my training regimen, my thoughts on the upcoming season. Birdie's a good interviewer--she asks thoughtful questions that show she's done her homework. But I can't help but notice the way she bites her lip as I answer, the way her eyes flicker over my body when I lean forward.
It's distracting, to say the least.
If she was any other girl, this interview would end very differently than it's going to.
"So what do you do for training in the off-season?" she asks. "I assume you don't just sit around all year."
"Definitely not," I chuckle. "I mean...I'm junior league, so I have to work on the side to make ends meet. Over the summer, I live up here in Fern Hollow and work odd jobs with Hart Brothers Contracting; and I also coach soccer at the high school."
She regards me carefully, her southern accent coming out in her next comment. "That's awfully wholesome."
"More self-serving than wholesome," I wink. "It keeps me on my toes, helps remind me about strategy. It's good to get into a coaching mindset so you don't just turn into a piece on the board; you want to be a player."
She laughs. "Are you a player, Johnny?"
I instantly get the double-entendre--and it puts me on edge. I can't tell if she's flirting or trying to catch me by surprise.
Maybe both.
"I'm not sure what you mean," I say carefully.
"I'm asking about your personal life," she says with a wry smile. "Do you find it hard to balance that with your hockey career?"
I smirk. "I don't really have much of a personal life. Hockey's pretty much my entire world. But it's worth it. I love the game too much to let anything else get in the way."
Birdie nods, but there's a glint in her eye that tells me she's not entirely satisfied with my answer. Makes sense...because it's a line I've used before. Chances are that she knows that. "Don't you ever get lonely though? Being so focused on one thing?"
I shrug. "I guess sometimes. But I have my teammates, my coaches. We're like a family. And, like I said, I work with the Harts in the off-season, so I'm always around people."
Birdie leans in closer, her eyes locked onto mine. "No girlfriend?"
