Page 20 of Ice Devil

“Do you ever get tired of the fans?”

“The fans? God, no. They are the reason hockey is so huge. They provide the energy that not only allows me to have a career doing something I absolutely love, but also continues pushing the sport into a higher level of professionalism.”

We were walking, but the urgency in getting to my destination wasn’t nearly as strong as before. I slowed my pace even further so I could glance at his face. I’d been able to read people pretty well over the years. Being observant was part of the job. He was being genuine. “I agree. I’ll need to put that in the article. Any misgivings about fame?”

He groaned, even tilting his head toward the sky while rubbing his face. “Everything. The pressure. The knowledge this career won’t last but so long. The challenge every night to be taken seriously.”

When he looked away, I could easily tell he was hesitant with being truthful with me. “What else?”

“Nah. You won’t hear some Big Dog whining.” His grin had the power of creating tingles, which wasn’t in the least bit appropriate.

“A certain amount of whining is… okay.” I almost said sensually. Why was it that I had a distinct feeling he could read my thoughts?

“The expectations.”

“Of winning the Stanley Cup?”

His huff almost faded into a laugh. “Yeah, something like that. I’m curious, Sloane. Why didn’t you ask me what it feels like to be a wolf on the ice?”

“Does it feel any different?”

He narrowed his eyes as if I was teasing him. “I’m human when on the ice.”

“I didn’t think otherwise.”

“Yeah, well, you’d be surprised what shit gets tossed out.”

“I’ve read enough and seen enough. However, you’re a man with trust issues.” We turned a corner and I pointed to the set of natural stairs leading to the casita.

“I’m a man who knows better than to open up to a reporter.”

“Ah, the reality of my life. The games people play.”

The shrug of his shoulders drew my attention. “In my experience, everyone plays games if it’s to their benefit.”

“Oh, you sound like me. Is your favorite song the somebody done something wrong tune? Classic record.”

He laughed. “I’m not that jaded, but when you play with the big dogs, you need to worry about being bitten. Woof.”

His bark was as unexpected as the interview had been. Now that we were standing at the bottom of the stairs, there was a level of awkwardness that even the jaded banter in the bar couldn’t hold a candle to. I wasn’t used to being unable to find something snarky to say.

With the profession I was in, I could make small talk with any man no matter the circumstances or his title. With Beck, I was uncertain my tongue was working. Finally, I pointed toward the building that had a spectacular view of the mountains. “This is me.”

“A suite, huh? You must make a lot of money chasing around soon to be has-been sports stars.”

“Hardly. This was a bribe.”

“A bribe?”

I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, I was supposed to be at an engagement party for one of my friends. The hottest bar in Chicago where all the men have gone through more plastic surgery than any of the glamorous Barbie dolls. By this point of the evening, my feet would be killing me since the dress code included me wearing six-inch stilettos.”

“Instead of your festive tennis shoes?”

“I know, right? How dare she.”

“The color is perfect on you.”

I shifted one hip in front of the other, pointing my toe. “I have them in every color.”