Page 2

Chapter 2

Jacob

I skate off the ice, feeling the adrenaline still coursing through my veins from the game. Entering the locker room, I begin the ritual of shedding my game-day gear. The room is buzzing with the usual post-win energy, but there's an edgier vibe tonight. I can feel eyes on me before I even hear the commotion.

"Hey Walker, off the ice and onto the headlines, huh?" shouts Halstead, one of our defensemen, with a smirk plastered across his face.

"Yeah, what'll it be next time—a senator's daughter?" pipes up Manning, our backup goalie, laughing as he peels off his pads.

I roll my eyes, tossing my gloves into my locker. "You guys are hilarious, really. Maybe you all missed your calling as stand-up comedians."

It doesn't take long for Gio to stride over, towel slung around his neck and his brow furrowed. "You're giving the real celebrities a run for their money in the gossip columns, Jake. Keep your jersey on for once, will you?"

I level him with a stare. Gio has been my best friend since we could barely skate, and he’s always known how to call me out. But this isn't one of those moments when I need it.

“Nothing happened, Gio,” I explain, removing my skates. “She was upset. I offered her a shoulder to cry on. That’s it. No secret rendezvous, no sneaking around. Just two people talking.”

The guys are exchanging looks, whispering like a bunch of high schoolers. I rub my temples, trying to stave off a growing headache.

“Look," I keep going, "the team owner’s wife was having a rough time. I was being a decent human being. Since when did that become a crime?”

"Since your idea of being a 'decent human being' usually ends up with someone sharing your bed," Gio retorts, a mischievous glint in his eye. The guys erupt into a chorus of oohs and laughter, feeding off the banter.

Gio raises an eyebrow, a dark lock of hair falling toward his face. "Come on, Jake. Let's face it. You do have that dashing, knight-in-shining-armor thing going for you. I mean, if this hockey gig doesn’t pan out, you could always try your luck as a soap opera star, considering how much you like to put on a cape for damsels in distress.”

I snort, shaking my head. "Sure, because that’s exactly what I need—more drama. Besides, I’m probably as good at acting as Manning is at dancing."

Manning catches that and throws a roll of tape at me. "Hey, I’ve got moves! You just can’t appreciate them from the penalty box."

Gio chuckles, leaning against the locker, but the grin on my best friend's face falls soon after. "Seriously, man, you do know how bad this looks, right? Especially with those rumors already floating around about you and the coach's daughter last year."

"Ah yes, the infamous non-affair. But let me remind you, nothing happened with the coach's daughter either. She just needed someone to help her fix her car battery. But if this keeps up, I'm going to need to start charging for all this free drama and entertainment I'm providing."

Gio raises an eyebrow skeptically, but before he can say anything else, our coach walks in.

"All right boys, let's focus up," Coach barks out as he enters the locker room.

We all snap to attention, knowing better than to mess around when Coach is in one of his moods.

"I'm sure you've all heard the rumors circulating about Jake and the owner's daughter," Coach continues, his eyes narrowed at me.

My stomach tightens at the look. But before I can say anything, Coach surprises us with his next words.

"Instead of focusing on that nonsense, let's focus on the next game, all right? We're in the playoffs now, gentlemen. That means we're going up against the top teams in the league and I expect each and every one of you to give it your all."

We all nod. I nod the hardest, grateful for Coach's skill at redirection.

But I'm not dumb enough not to know that Coach's stern look can't be good.

Shit. I glance at Gio, my silent gaze saying it all.

He nods slightly, signaling for me to follow him out of earshot. "You need to find out how bad it is, Jake," Gio whispers. "Call Alexandra. She’ll have the dirt."

Alexandra Stevens. Infamous sports journalist. And perpetual bug up my ass.

She was the one who broke the story about me and the coach's daughter, even though there was no story to begin with.

I know if Giovanni is suggesting Alexandra's help, then it's bad. After she helped publish an article last year entitled, "Gio 'The Icebreaker' De Luca Melts More Hearts Than Ice with His Bad Boy Antics", he dislikes the media twice as much as I do.

But he's right. I need to know what rumors are swirling around now before it becomes a bigger issue.

After a full shower and outfit change into a button-down shirt and jeans, I sneak away to give Alexandra a call. Surprisingly, she answers on the first ring.

"Well, well, if it isn't Captain Screws-A-Lot in the middle of another scandal," Alexandra answers in her trademark sarcastic tone.

"Always a pleasure, Alexandra. Heard you might have some info on this latest tabloid masterpiece starring yours truly?"

"Seriously, Jacob,” Alexandra sighs, the sound heavy over the line. "You need to get a hobby that doesn’t involve causing mass hysteria."

"Oh, come on now, Alex. You know trouble finds me. It’s not like I send it an engraved invitation."

"Well, maybe you should start," she snaps back. "At least then, I'd have something original to write about."

"I'm laughing on the inside," I quip. "But seriously, what's the damage this time? Do I need to start stocking up on canned goods and hiding in my bunker?"

Her tone shifts, becoming more business-like. "All right, Casanova. The gist of it is, those nasty whispers are making the rounds again, and some are pretty colorful."

"Colorful?"

"You know, the usual—true love, secret trysts, and your inability to recognize the boundaries of common decency. Boundaries like…oh, I don't know…not canoodling with the big boss's daughter?"

"For your information, being nice to someone and being romantically involved are two completely different things," I retort.

"Ha! That's rich coming from you, Sir 'I-Can't-Keep-My-Hands-To-Myself’.”

"Look, can we focus on the actual important part here? Like who's spreading these rumors and how do we stop them?" I ask impatiently. When she doesn't respond right away, I release a long breath. "Okay, being nice now. Please, Alex? I'll owe you one."

A few seconds pass before I guess she realizes I’m serious.

“Fine, fine,” she breathes out. “Seems someone on the team probably called it in. Told the press. The usual.”

"Shocker," I mutter under my breath.

"And as for how to stop the rumors, well...that's where things get tricky."

"Tricky? As in 'I-need-to-call-in-favors-and-pull-off-some-major-manipulation' kind of tricky?"

I hear a smirk in her voice now. "Tricky as in the word on the street is that the Blades have a new head of public relations. My suggestion? If you want to nip this in the bud, your best bet might be to work with them."

"That's surprisingly helpful, Alexandra." I push off the wall I've been leaning on, feeling a spark of hope. "Really helpful, actually. Who knew you had a heart under all that hatred?"

"Don’t get used to it, Jacob. I’d hate to ruin my reputation.” She pauses, then adds, “Good luck with the new PR head. You’ll need it."

"Thanks, I'll keep that in mind," I reply sarcastically. But as I walk away, I can't help but feel grateful for Alex's surprising act of kindness.

For us professional athletes, journalists are usually the enemy.

But maybe, just maybe, I can make an unlikely ally in this new PR person. And with Alex's help, I might just be able to clear my name and prove all these rumors wrong.

I’ll have to if I don’t want the Chicago Blades’ owner George Corso canning my ass before next season.

As I make my way back to the team locker facilities, my mind is already racing with ideas about how to approach this new PR situation. One thing is for sure though—I need to come up with a killer charm offensive that will win over the Blades' new spokesperson.

Still riding the wave of unexpected kindness from Alexandra, I decide to strike while the iron’s hot. I head straight for the PR office. No sense in wasting any time, right?

I push through the throng of team members milling around the hallway, trying to map out what my first words should be. By the time I'm standing outside the PR exec's door, I've got a vague plan in place.

Flash a winning smile. Maybe crack a joke. Then lay on the charm.

It's a move that's been working since I was old enough to have my first kiss.

Easy peasy.

But the moment I step inside, all coherent thoughts evaporate like a puddle on a hot summer's day. Sitting behind the desk is none other than Gabriella De Luca.

Gio’s little sister.

Not to mention she’s the person I actually shared that first kiss with.

I feel my face flush as I try to think of something, anything to say. But all that comes out is a stilted, "What the fu...Gabs?"

She looks up from her computer screen and our eyes meet. The same big green eyes that used to make my heart race in high school.

But now, instead of the shy girl who always seemed to be hiding in Gio's shadow, I see a confident woman sitting before me. She looks amazing as always, the dark waves of her hair cascading over her shoulders, framing her heart-shaped face.

Even behind a desk and dressed in a professional suit, she still manages to exude a natural sexiness that's impossible to ignore.

I clear my throat, trying to get my thoughts back on track. "I didn't know you were working here now."

A smile flashes over her mouth, one that doesn't exactly touch her eyes. "Uh, yeah. Gio thought it would be good for me to get some experience outside of the family business."

"Ah, yes. Running the PR for Nonna's tomato sauce business has probably been quite the learning experience. How is my favorite girl?"

Gabi snorts. "Still stirring up trouble in the kitchen. The other day she managed to convince the entire block that her tomato sauce cures the common cold."

I chuckle, shaking my head. "Classic Nonna. I remember when she tried to add her 'secret ingredient' to the school's spaghetti sauce for the fundraiser. The whole gym smelled like garlic for a week."

"Oh, I don't doubt it," Gabi says, leaning back in her chair. "And it might take more than a PR miracle to erase that memory from everyone's minds."

"Hey, at least she didn't try to sneak in her homemade vino this time. Remember Gio's eighteenth birthday when she showed up with five gallons of it? I swear my hangover lasted a month."

Gabi laughs, a sound as warm and infectious as always. "Nonna's wine should come with a warning label: 'May cause you to forget your own name'."

With a sigh, I lean against the edge of her desk. "Well, it sounds like life at the De Luca household is as eventful as ever. Maybe one of these days, I should come by and remind Nonna who her real favorite is. It's...been a while since I've been by, I know." I set my shoulders straight, my back stiffening. "Life just got kinda busy."

The smile on Gabi's face widens before it fades away. She looks down at her hands, fiddling with a pen on the desk. "Yeah, I know the feeling." Her tone is polite, but I can sense a hint of ice beneath it. "So...before we get sidetracked with more talk about Italian grandmothers, maybe we should get down to business." She hesitates. "Is there something you needed? From me?"

I rack my brain for a witty response, but all I can come up with is, "Just wanted to say hello."

Smooth, Jake. Real smooth.

Forget charm offensive. Now it’s a full-on operation “Don’t Be an Awkward Fool in Front of the One Woman You've Wanted For Over Half of Your Life”.

It's an operation that's getting harder by the second, as Gabi just stares at me expectantly.

I decide to tell the truth.

"Actually, I need the head of PR's help with something. And since I'm guessing that's you now, I have to say that I'm glad you're sitting...since what I have to tell you is kind of personal."

Gab's eyebrows furrow as she leans back in her leather chair, crossing her arms over her chest. "You've got my attention." She glances at the seat opposite her desk, motioning to it. "Why don't you take a seat while you're at it, Jake?" Her emerald eyes flash. "From what I've heard lately about you, it's probably safe to say that we're going to be here a while."