Hearts On Thin Ice

MAYA The first rule of journalism is never let the story become personal. The second is apparently never accept a job without reading the fuc.king roster first. Because if I had done that, I wouldn’t be standing outside the Colorado Crows locker room with a recorder in one hand, notebook in the other, and my heart trying to punch its way through my ribs. Jace Callahan. His name stared back at me from the roster taped beside the door.He was the team’s captain, their star left wing,Three-time All-Star, NHL League darling. And the only man I’d ever loved enough to hate. I stared at his name as long-suppressed memories came rushing back, hitting me one after another like punches to the gut. Five years. It had been five years since I’d last seen him. Five years since he’d disappeared from my life without so much as a proper goodbye. Five years since I’d decided that hockey was something I never wanted to think about again. Apparently, that decision had lasted until I moved to this city. I’d only been here for three months. Three months of a new apartment, a new job, new colleagues, and the fresh start I knew I needed for my career. I hadn’t followed hockey since Jace left. I didn’t watch the games anymore and I stopped searching his name a little over a year after he left. I’d made a point of knowing absolutely nothing about him. Which was probably why I hadn’t known he played for the Colorado Crows, or that he was their captain.Or that he’d apparently become one of the biggest names in professional hockey. I should have been grateful for my ignorance. Instead, I was standing outside his locker room remembering some of the happy times we shared. FIVE YEARS AGO I was sitting on the hood of Jace’s beat-up BMW sedan while he stood between my knees, his arms wrapped securely around my waist. The car had been a twentieth birthday gift from his father two years earlier, and despite the scratches and faded paint, Jace loved it. I’d teased him countless times about finally getting a new one once he made it big. Now, he was one step closer. He’d just signed a contract with the San Jose Sharks in California. And I’d been accepted into the University of Southern California for my master's in journalism. California. A new city. A new beginning. Our new beginning. “It’s going to be a fresh and exciting start for us Maya,” he said with a grin before leaning in to nibble my ear. I shivered as his lips grazed my skin, goosebumps erupting across my body. “I’ll come to every one of your games.” I moaned as his lips made contact with my neck. “And you’ll wear my jersey with my number so the whole world knows you’re mine.”His grin widened as his eyes met mine. My heart melted at the pure love shining in them. “Always, Jace,” I whispered. He brushed his nose against mine. “Always and forever, Maya.” “Bennett?” I blinked. For a few seconds, my brain struggled to drag me out of the past and back into the present.. I glanced in the direction of my editor, Daniel, who was already walking away. “Yeah?” “You’re interviewing Callahan first.” My stomach dropped as panic seized me. Oh no. “Callahan?” Daniel glanced over his shoulder. “Yes. Jace Callahan.” As if I needed the reminder. “Today?” I blurted out. Daniel stopped and arched a brow at me. “That’s generally how interviews work” “Daniel—” “Twenty minutes. Get his thoughts on the semifinal. Ask about his leadership, ask about the pressure, and lastly ask about the championship.” He paused, giving me a curious look. “And try not to look like you want to murder him.” I forced a smile.“No promises.” He laughed and disappeared down the corridor. I stared after him. Twenty minutes. Twenty minutes trapped in a room with the man I’d spent five years trying not to remember.Perfect. Absolutely fucki.ng perfect. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes briefly. I could do this,I was a journalist, and he was a hockey player. We were adults and whatever happened five years ago was in the past. I wasn’t the same naive girl who had waited for him to come back. I had a career now. A life. A perfectly functioning heart that definitely wasn’t trying to escape through my throat. I turned, threw my empty Coffee in the trash can, and pushed the door open, my cameraman, Pete, following close behind. The room was loud with the usual post-practice chaos. The Sweaty players laughed while equipment clattered somewhere in the large room. Someone shouted about missing gloves, another player was arguing with a teammate about something I couldn’t hear. The room smelt of testosterone. My eyes roamed the room and landed on him, and everything inside me went still. Jace stood near his locker with his back partially turned to me. My eyes gulped him up greedily despite every warning screaming inside my head. He was bigger, taller, and looked way too good for my peace of mind. His dark hair was damp from practice, longer than he used to keep it and curling slightly at the nape of his neck. His shoulders were wider than I remembered., his body harder, more defined. The sweet boy I’d known had grown into a man, a very dangerous-looking one. As if sensing my stare, he turned. His blue eyes met mine, and all the years disappeared. I was once again that naive girl sitting on the hood of his BMW with his arms around me and his lips against my skin. My heart skipped several beats, and heat rushed through me. I clenched my fists, willing my face to return to an expression of indifference. No way would I let him know he still affected me. His eyes widened slightly as recognition flashed in them. His intense gaze traveled over me slowly, making me painfully aware of every inch of my body beneath his scrutiny. When his eyes finally returned to my face, they lingered on my lips. A jolt of awareness shot straight through me and my fingers tightened around my notebook. No. Absolutely not. I cleared my throat. “Mr. Callahan?” A muscle in his jaw flexed as his eyes returned to mine. “Maya.” My name sounded different in his mouth. Too intimate. Too familiar. Everything I didn’t want to feel. I swallowed. “It’s Miss Bennett to you. I’m here for your interview.” A look of surprise flickered in his eyes but was gone in an instant. He stared at me for another second, then he picked up a towel and draped it over his shoulder. “Of course you are.” He smirked. That se.xy infuriating smirk of his.The same one that had gotten me into trouble more times than I cared to remember. “I’ve only got twenty minutes,” I said as I glanced at Pete, letting him know he could set up and get the cameras rolling. “That’s plenty of time.” I opened my notebook, willing my erratic pulse to behave as I stared up at him. “Let’s begin.”