5. Chapter 5
Chapter 5
Gio
T he roar of the crowd fades as I step off the ice, my muscles aching from another brutal game against San Francisco. My mind is still replaying the last few minutes, the anger and frustration simmering just below the surface.
A near-fight with one of their players, a missed shot that almost lost the game. It's been a tough night.
We won, but it was close. Too close.
I can tell it's the same thought on Coach's mind as he pulls me aside for a quiet word.
"We need to talk about your focus, Gio," he says, his voice low but stern. "You're getting too caught up in the drama off the ice."
I bristle at the implication. "I can handle it."
Coach shakes his graying head of hair. "It's affecting your game, son. And if it continues, I'll have no choice but to bench you."
My jaw tightens and I force myself to nod, not trusting myself to speak.
But inside, I'm seething.
Because he has no idea what it's like to have someone like Lexi Brookes constantly trying to get under my skin. He doesn't know how much self-control it takes for me not to snap and give her exactly what she wants.
But I can't let that happen. Not again.
I've worked too hard for this, for my place on the team and in the league. And I refuse to let some woman who thinks she knows me bring it all crashing down.
Taking a deep breath, I shove away my anger and head back to the locker room with Coach's words ringing in my ears.
Focus. That's all I need to do. Keep my focus on the game and block out any distractions.
Sal Carmine's party would definitely be a distraction. But on a night like this, with the tension and adrenaline still coursing through my veins, I need something to take my mind off of hockey. Sal's party won't accomplish that.
But Lexi's offer to go to the party is still tempting.
I know she's trying to get a reaction out of me. But maybe going with her would be a good way to show Coach that I can handle myself and still perform on the ice.
I shower, throw on some pants and a black collared shirt I had stashed in my locker, all for a night I'll very possibly regret.
As I adjust my collar, Jacob saunters over, his sandy-brown hair a mess and his grin shit-eating as always.
"You clean up nice," Jacob says, blue eyes alight. "Hot date with a puck bunny?"
I snort. "Hardly. Just some PR thing Gabi's making me do."
He raises an eyebrow. "This wouldn't happen to involve a certain blonde reporter, would it?"
I freeze, my hands stilling on my collar. "How did you…"
"Gabi might have mentioned something," he says, grinning. "Come on, man. It's not that bad. Lexi's cool."
I grunt, grabbing my jacket. "Yeah, well, you're not the one she's been ripping apart in print for the past two years."
"Are you kidding me? Lexi's definitely ripped into me a time or two," Jacob says with a laugh. "But she's also pretty good at her job. And if you play your cards right, maybe you can get her to ease up on you."
"Or I could just skip the party and avoid all of this drama," I mutter.
Jacob claps me on the back. "No way, man. You need some fun after that game tonight. Plus, who knows? Maybe you'll actually have a good time."
"You going, too?"
"Nah. I've got Gabi and two kids under two to take care of. Not exactly party material," Jacob says with a smirk.
I chuckle and shake my head. "Settling down with my sister really tamed you, huh?"
You'll see, man. One day you'll find someone who makes even partying seem boring. Someone who makes you want to stay in and cuddle instead."
"Jesus. Gabs has turned you into a walking marshmallow."
"Trust me. There's nothing 'soft' about me when Gabi's around."
"All right. That's enough, bro. That's still my baby sis you're talking about."
"Hey, I'm just saying. You'll see for yourself one day. You'll meet a woman who's not afraid to be your match. A woman who challenges you, who pushes you—on the ice, off it, in the house, hell, the bedroom. A woman who can give as good she gets it."
I glance up, seeing the sincerity there, and the hint of unbridled desire.
For a moment, I'm tempted to tell him everything. About the All-Star party. About the real reason I can't stand to be around Lexi.
But I don't. I can't. Some things are better left in the past.
I swallow hard. "Yeah," I say, my voice barely above a whisper. "Maybe one day."
Jacob claps me on the back again before heading out of my room, leaving me alone with my thoughts. He's right, of course. Maybe Lexi is just doing her job, and I'm overthinking things. But there's also a part of me that can't help but wonder if there's something more to her constant criticism.
I try to shake off the feeling as I finish getting ready for the party. As much as I hate parties, Jacob is right about one thing—I could use a distraction from my thoughts.
"I gotta go," I mutter, heading for the door. "Don't wait up." I hear Jacob chuckling behind me and give a quick wave without looking back at him.
As I make my way to the party, I can't help but feel a twinge of guilt for lying to Jacob. But at this point, it's easier than admitting the truth. The truth about why I can't stand being around Lexi.
The drive to the event is a blur of city lights and nervous energy.
The early March Chicago air is still crisp, still cold this time of year. I open the window and let it rush into the car, knowing that a few minutes outside will help clear my head before I have to face the crowd inside.
But as soon as I step out of the car, I'm bombarded with noise and flashing lights. It takes everything in me not to turn around and get back in the car.
I make my way through the sea of people, recognizing some faces from the NHL. Everyone seems to be having a good time, but all I can focus on is finding a drink.
Instead, I find something else first. Some one else, actually.
Lexi Brookes. Standing there in the middle of it all.
She’s wearing a deep blue dress that hugs every gorgeous curve, her blonde hair styled in loose waves. She looks stunning, and for a second, I have to remind myself to breathe.
But then I see her talking to a group of guys, laughing and flirting. And that twinge of guilt turns into anger.
She saunters over to me, a smirk on her lips. "Look who decided to show up," she says with a raised eyebrow.
"Surprised? Me too. It's shocking, knowing that you've invited people who don't kiss your ass all the time."
"I'm just surprised you actually left your cave for once. Should have had security check for bats as well as weapons."
"Wow. You're funny when you're not tearing people down."
“It’s a gift. Besides, I couldn't very well spend all my time ignoring your constant need for attention." She flashes a fake smile. "So, what's your excuse for being late? Too busy brooding and feeling sorry for yourself?"
I grit my teeth, trying to ignore her provocation. But it's like a broken record with her, always poking at me until I break.
"Actually, I was working.” I nod, shoving my hands into my pockets. “You know, trying to make something of myself instead of living off Daddy's money."
She laughs, her eyes scanning the crowd. "I'm surprised you even know what work is. Must be hard for you, being forced to actually do something productive." She pauses, grabbing a passing waiter and taking a glass of champagne. "As for my father's money, trust me, he doesn't need anyone else to help him blow through it." She smiles, but it doesn't reach her eyes. "But I'd rather not talk about him. It's bad for my digestion. I'll show you where the food is. Looks like you could use something to sink your teeth into besides me.”
I follow her reluctantly, trying not to let her snide comments get to me.
As we reach the buffet table, I take in the spread of delicious-looking food. My stomach grumbles in anticipation; I haven't eaten since breakfast this morning.
"Why don't you try some of these mini quiches?" she suggests with a smug smile. "You know, for those hunger pangs from all that 'hard work'."
I ignore her jibe and grab a few quiches, taking a bite of one. It's delicious, and I wish I'd grabbed more.
"I'm guessing hockey legends like Sal Carmine spare no expense when it comes to their parties," I comment, trying to change the subject.
She shrugs, taking a sip of her champagne. "From what I can tell. Guy's nice. I've gotten a chance to hang out with him a few times."
"What the—how?"
"He's a good friend of one of my father's business partners."
"That's right." I nod. "Your father is the president of Dix Communications, right? They own a few major sports channels, don't they?"
"Vice president," she corrects with a hint of annoyance. "But yeah, he likes to think he's the one pulling all the strings." She perks up, pointing at a group of people entering the room. "Oh look, the man of the hour is here."
I turn to see Sal Carmine, surrounded by his entourage, making his way toward us. He looks just as intimidating in person as I expected, with broad shoulders and a gray gaze that seems to take in everything.
Holy fuck.
I've grown up watching this man on TV, leading his team to victory after victory. And now he's standing in front of me, only a few feet away.
Being a groupie for any grown man has never appealed to me. But for Sal Carmine? I would gladly put on a 'Sal Groupie' jersey and scream my lungs out at one of his games.
"Holy shit," I mutter, unable to hide my awe.
Lexi smirks. "Come on, I'll introduce you."
Before I can protest, she's grabbing my arm and pulling me through the crowd. Sal turns as we approach, his face lighting up in recognition.
"Alexandra Brookes," he says, his voice warm. "Always a pleasure, my dear."
Lexi beams, and I feel a pang of...something in my chest. I push it away, just as quickly as it appeared.
"Sal, I'd like you to meet Giovanni De Luca," Lexi says, gesturing to me. "Gio, this is Sal Carmine."
"Gio De Luca," Sal repeats, his gaze sizing me up. "I've heard a lot about you."
I raise an eyebrow, flashing him a ridiculous grin. "Good things, I hope?"
He chuckles. "Mostly good things."
I extend my hand, hoping it's not clammy. "It's an honor, sir. I've admired your work for years."
Sal's grip is firm, his eyes twinkling. "The honor's all mine, son. I've been watching you play. You've got real talent."
"I...thank you." I feel like a little kid who just got a gold star on his math test.
"Of course, talent only gets you so far," Sal continues, his tone turning serious. "It's what you do with it that counts."
I nod, feeling like I'm being sized up. "I couldn't agree more."
Sal smiles, clapping me on the shoulder. "Good man. Now, why don't you tell me about that wicked slapshot of yours?"
As we fall into conversation, I can feel some of the tension leaving my body.
This is familiar territory—talking hockey, strategy, the game I love.
I almost forget Lexi's there until I glance over and catch her watching me, a strange expression on her face. When our eyes meet, she quickly looks away, busying herself with her phone.
Before I can dwell on it too much, Sal nods at me and Lexi. "I'm going to go say hi to some other guests." He glances over. "It was nice meeting you, Gio."
"Likewise, Mr. Carmine," I reply, trying to keep my voice steady.
With a pat on my shoulder, he walks away, leaving me feeling completely starstruck. Lexi's smirk widens.
"You look pleased," she comments.
I turn to stare at her. "You kidding me? Sal Carmine knows who the hell I am. I'm just lucky I didn't jizz in my pants when he touched me."
Lexi laughs, shaking her head. "You're such a fanboy."
"Hey, I can't help it. The man is a legend."
"He's also a fan of yours, it seems.”
I shake my head. “Nah. Man’s just being nice.”
Lexi raises an eyebrow. "Is it so hard for you to believe that people see the good in you, Gio?"
The question makes me pause. I've always been so focused on proving myself, pushing to be better, that I've never really stopped to think about how others view me.
And by the time I did, it was, apparently, too late.
"Anyway," she says, changing the subject, "let's go get some food before all the good stuff runs out."
We head toward the buffet table and start filling our plates. As we make our way there I notice a few men checking Lexi out. I wonder if they think we're together and feel myself puff out my chest.
The rest of the night passes in a blur of introductions and small talk. By the time things start winding down, I'm surprised to find that I'm actually enjoying myself.
I remember, as a teenager, when Sal Carmine was often referred to as a sort of "troublemaker" in the pro hockey league. He was feared and respected by all who knew him, and even those who didn't.
But now, he's just a regular guy wearing a Hawaiian shirt and cracking jokes with his friends.
It's almost surreal to see this side of him, but it also makes me realize that things change over time. People change. And sometimes, our perceptions of them changes too.
"So," Lexi says, sidling up to me at the bar. "Was it as bad as you thought it would be?"
I shrug. "Eh, I've had worse root canals."
"High praise from the great Gio De Luca." She pauses, hazel eyes assessing me before looking away. "Does this mean you'll do the feature?”
I consider it for a moment. I'm sure Sal Carmine had to do plenty in his day to soften his notorious reputation.
It's not too far-fetched to believe for a moment that a feature done on my own life outside of the rink might help to do the same.
"I'll think about it," I finally say, taking a sip of my drink.
Lexi nods, not pressing any further. She obviously knows better than to push me.
As we say our goodbyes and head out into the night, I can feel her watching me, her gaze like a weight on my back.
I snort. Let Lexi Brookes sweat for once. I've certainly had to do my fair share of it for her.