Breakout (A Dallas Demons Hockey Romance)

by Ellis, Aven

  Talk about sexy as hell.

  Suddenly he turns his head.

  And now his eyes are locked on mine.

  My heart springs back to life, pounding against my ribcage. Niko stares at me for a brief moment, then a huge smile lights up his face. An intense, electric feeling washes over me upon sight of it.

  “You know Xenakis?”

  I manage to tear my eyes away from Niko to the guy sitting to my left, who is looking at me.

  I nod. “Yeah. I edited the open for him, and since I was going to be here tonight, I thought I’d stop by and see him.”

  As soon as I said, “edited the open” the guy’s eyebrows shot up.

  “So that’s why it was different,” he says, flashing me a smile. He extends his hand to me. “I’m Steve, by the way. That was a great open.”

  I step forward and shake his hand. “I’m Lexi. Nice to meet you. And thank you for the kind words.”

  “Hey, Lexi here did our open tonight,” Steve announces.

  “Mystery solved!” another guy yells out. “That’s why it wasn’t the same recycled crap.”

  “Hey, Lexi, great open!” a woman says.

  I smile as a sense of pride washes over me. “Thank you, I was honored to do it.”

  I glance back at Niko, who is watching me. I feel heat in my cheeks, and he turns his attention to the monitors to finish out the final minute.

  “Go to red,” Niko says to his director. “Roll red . . . music . . . Ten . . . nine . . . eight . . . seven . . . six . . . five . . . four . . . three . . . two . . . one . . . Clear.”

  The commercial is up and rolling for the start of the intermission, and Niko takes off his headset. As people get up to move around, or leave the truck during the break, I make my way toward Niko, who stands to greet me. Oh, he’s so gorgeous in his white dress shirt and gray suit pants.

  And as he gets closer, I notice I’m trembling with nerves.

  “Hey,” Niko says, coming up the row to me halfway, “I’m glad you could make it down here.”

  “I wouldn’t miss it,” I say honestly.

  “Excuse me,” another guy says, moving past us and leaving us as the only two people left in the row.

  “So how’s it going?” I ask.

  Niko rakes a hand through his hair, and those Greek letters on the inside of his arm are visible once again.

  And once again, my pulse burns in response to getting that glimpse of his tattoo on his gorgeous olive skin.

  “I feel a lot better now that I’ve made it to the first intermission,” Niko says, exhaling. Then he cocks an eyebrow at me. “Tony watched me from the back of the truck for most of the first period. And he didn’t have to shove me out of the chair to take over, so that’s good.”

  I smile. Tony is the senior executive producer at Total Access Total Sports in Dallas.

  “So no stress there, with Tony over your shoulder,” I tease.

  “Nah. None. Zero,” Niko answers. “But overall, I think it went well. It’ll take time to get used to a new crew and new environment, for that to all gel together, but I’m ready for it.”

  “I know you are,” I say.

  Niko furrows his brow. “How?”

  “You gave up a lot to come here. You moved to Dallas all the way from Seattle. You’re coming into a challenging situation after the start of the season. Not everyone would want to take all of that on. But you did. So that tells me you’re not only ready, but you are driven to succeed.”

  I pause for a moment, thinking of all the drama that led to Niko getting this job. Basically the previous producer, according to Ryan, was a hotheaded jerk who ended up punching the director. Ryan filled in until an emergency replacement was found, and that was Niko.

  “It happened so fast, and it’s so unbelievable,” Niko says, shaking his head. Then he lowers his voice, so only I can hear him. And as he leans closer to me, that wonderful cedar and spice scent envelopes me, sending a shiver down my spine.

  “Who would have thought the kid from Baltimore’s Greektown would end up here?” he says, continuing. “In the producer’s chair of a championship team? According to my parents, I was supposed to end up as a baker in their bakery. This was a stupid dream. I was told I was crazy to pursue it. But I made it. I actually made it, Lexi.”

  I hear the sense of wonder in his voice, and it touches me. Instead of being a cocky producer, Niko’s genuinely in awe that he was given this opportunity. And from the bit he dropped about his parents, it sounds like he had no support in making this dream come true.

  “Hey, Niko, I’ve got a question for you,” a crew member yells out from the other side of the truck.

  Niko steps back from me and clears his throat.

  “I’ll be right there,” Niko answers. Then he turns to me, an apologetic expression passing over his gorgeous face. “Sorry, I’ve got to go back to work.”

  “No, no, of course,” I say, shaking my head. “I understand.”

  We walk to the back of the truck. Niko pops open the door, and motions for me to go first. I head down the steps, and he follows behind me.

  Now we’re standing face to face in front of the truck. Niko rakes a hand through his hair again, and I feel my breath catch in my throat.

  “Thanks for stopping by tonight,” he says softly. “It was nice to see someone I know.”

  My heart leaps as Niko acknowledges me as that, not just an editor, but someone he knows in Dallas.

  Someone he wanted to see tonight, I think in amazement.

  “Thank you for inviting me,” I say. “And I’m counting on you. No mess ups in the second period. I’m recording this game at home so I’ll know if there are any, Niko Xenakis.”

  Niko tosses his head back and laughs, and, oh, I love the sound of his deep laughter.

  “All right, I’ll do my best,” he says, his eyes sparkling. “Only for you, of course.”

  I laugh. “Well of course, I wouldn’t expect you to try and achieve that out of any kind of professional desire, Niko. It’s all about me.”

  We both laugh.

  “But we do have some things to celebrate tonight,” Niko says, his gaze holding mine. “First, a killer open provided by you, and if I can somehow get through two more periods without mistakes, that should be celebrated, too.”

  Where is he going with this?

  I try to force my anticipation down. After all, I’m usually wrong about these things, so I try to keep them low and if they end up higher, it’s like an awesome surprise.

  “Those feats sound worthy of a celebration,” I say, baiting the hook. “Anything in mind?”

  Niko brushes his hand over his five o’clock shadow, and I swear I feel my knees almost buckle at that simple move.

  “So what do you say about meeting after the game and going for a drink at the Demons Club in the arena?” Niko asks. “Would you do me the honor of having a drink with me tonight, Lexi?”

  Chapter 8

  The One Online Dating Service Profile Question: A guy you’re interested in has just asked you to meet him for a drink. What do you wear? A smart cocktail dress? A mini skirt to flash some sexy leg? More casual?

  My write-in answer: Of course he asks me for a drink, and I’m dressed for a hockey game. While I love my gray mock wrap cable sweater with the shawl collar, dark wash skinny jeans, and black suede boots, I’m dying to be in something sexier right now . . .

  “Drinks after the game?” I repeat, smiling at him.

  Niko grins. “Yes. I’d love to buy you a drink as a thank you for creating the open.”

  And with those words, my bubble of happiness bursts.

  He doesn’t want to take me out for a drink to get to know me better.

  Niko wants to buy me a drink
as a thank you.

  To his editor.

  I bite down on my lower lip, disappointment raging through me. Once again, another guy views me as Lexi Stewart, their buddy. The girl who can edit and talk sports with the best of them.

  Not Lexi Stewart, the girl they want to date.

  And even though I’ve been placed in this category so, so many times before, it has never stung as badly as Niko putting me here right now.

  “Lexi?” Niko asks, furrowing his brow. “Did I offend you by asking you to have a drink? If so, I’m so sorry, I ju—”

  I see the expression of concern on his face, and I’m mortified. It’s not his fault that I misread his interest in me. I have to fix this. Quick.

  “Niko, no, of course not,” I interrupt, plastering a smile on my face. “It’s like coworkers having drinks. Not offensive at all. Of course I’m game for that.”

  Niko studies me for a moment, and for a brief second, his face changes. His brow furrows, almost as if he didn’t expect the answer I gave him.

  No, that’s not it. That wouldn’t make any sense and besides, he’s not interested and—

  Shit. I’m delusional. And I’m having a whole conversation about it with myself.

  Ugh, I don’t need a date with Niko.

  I need to find a crappy house to rent, adopt 50 cats, and embrace my destiny as a single crazy cat lady.

  “Right, coworkers,” Niko reiterates. Then he clears his throat. “So how about the Demons Club? It will take me some time to finish up here, but I can meet you there if you don’t mind waiting.”

  “That’s perfect,” I say, thinking of the bar inside the arena. “I usually go there with Kenley while she waits for Nate after the game. So I’ll see you there.”

  “All right,” Niko says, studying me for a moment. “I’ll text you before I head down.”

  “Okay,” I say, smiling at him.

  And I keep the smile on my face as I watch him bound up the stairs to the truck and go back inside, and only when he’s out of sight do I let it fall.

  Right along with any hopes in my heart for anything other than friendship with Niko Xenakis.

  After a thrilling 6-4 win over the Baltimore Blades, the atmosphere inside the Demons Club is electric. People are wall-to-wall with drinks in hand to celebrate the win. Club music pulsates throughout the chic bar. Every tall chrome table is taken, and monitors show the post-game interviews, not that you can hear a single word that Harrison Flynn is saying.

  And you would think my attitude would match the excited vibe that is surrounding me. After all, Niko will be joining me in a bit to buy me a drink.

  Except there’s one detail that leaves a whole big black cloud over that fact.

  Niko is buying a drink to say, “Job well done, Lexi!”

  Not “Hey, Lexi, I’d like to get to know you better. How about we talk over a drink?”

  Ugh.

  “Am I missing something here?” Kenley shouts at me across the table, snapping me from my thoughts.

  I blink. “I’m sorry, what?”

  “Um, let’s see, you have a dead-sexy guy coming down here in a bit to see you,” Kenley says, “and you act like you’re waiting for a root canal.”

  Despite my mood, I smile. Kenley has been my best friend since childhood, and she can read me like nobody else can.

  “Come on, Kenley. You know why I’m like this. Niko’s buying me a drink to say thanks. It’s disappointing.”

  “No, it’s exciting. You’re getting a chance to know him better, how is that disappointing? And I’m sorry, but I don’t see him running around to buy everyone on his crew a drink. Just you. There’s a reason for that.”

  “Yes. It’s too expensive to buy everyone on the crew a drink,” I quip, taking a sip of my club soda.

  “Argh! I swear I’m going to come over there and shake some sense into you.”

  I laugh. “Hmmm, that would make for interesting pics on Tumblr. ‘Nate Johansson’s girlfriend attacks woman at Demons Club.’”

  Kenley bursts out laughing. She’s been snapped in public a lot since becoming Nate’s girlfriend, so we like to make up outrageous headlines that we could envision on social media.

  “Oh, yes,” Kenley says, her blue eyes sparkling. “Next caption: ‘Kenley Hunter Slaps Woman, Overheard Screaming About Bestie Being Blind to Attraction from Hot As Hell Producer.’”

  My face grows hot from her words.

  “I’m not being blind,” I insist.

  Kenley takes a sip of her wine. “I disagree.”

  “Kenley!”

  “Lexi!”

  My phone buzzes. My heart jumps, and Kenley leans forward excitedly. I glance down and see it’s CiCi.

  “Sorry, it’s your mother.” I pick up the phone to read her message aloud to Kenley. “‘Apparently this Greek One is shy. Or has no life. I have only found pictures of him in trade magazines for TV people announcing his hiring to produce the Demons.’”

  I cock an eyebrow at Kenley, who looks embarrassed.

  “Glad to have CiCi on the case,” I tease.

  “I’m so sorry about that,” Kenley says, shaking her head. “She was over at Amanda’s when I texted her.”

  I laugh. “I don’t mind, you know I love CiCi.”

  My phone buzzes again. “Oh, wait, she must have found his wife or something.”

  But the text isn’t from CiCi.

  It’s from Niko.

  He’s on his way up to meet me for a drink.

  And while I know he sees me as a coworker, a part of me wonders if Kenley is right. Could I have an opportunity to get to know him better tonight and possibly change his mind about that?

  Optimism fills me. Maybe one drink can change things.

  And I’ll find out if that is the case in a matter of minutes.

  Chapter 9

  The One Online Dating Service Profile Question: How much do you like to reveal on a first date? Should the questioning be flirty? Deep and meaningful to see if there could be a potential future? Simple, because it’s only a first date?

  My write-in answer: It’s not even a date, but all I want to be is myself when I get to talk to him. That’s what I want from Niko, too. And my gut is telling me the real Niko is someone I could really fall for . . .

  I nervously wait for Niko to make it up to the Demons Club. I keep glancing at the door, to see if I see him making the way through the crowd, searching for me.

  “I’ll leave right after he gets here,” Kenley says, interrupting my thoughts.

  I whip my head toward her. “What? No! That’s too obvious! You have to at least stay for fifteen minutes.”

  Kenley rolls her eyes. “Um, I’m sorry, he didn’t want to have drinks with me tonight. He wants to have a drink with you, sexy lady.”

  Now I know my face is blood red. I’m quite sure it matches my hair.

  “Stop.”

  “You look amazing,” Kenley declares. “That sweater hugs you in all the right places.”

  “I’m still dressed for a hockey game.”

  “Um, yes, maybe because you’re at one?”

  I’m about to respond when I glance toward the door again.

  And this time, Niko is there.

  He’s got the gray suit jacket on now, which fits his frame perfectly. The white shirt appears even brighter in the lights of the bar, and it’s still opened a few buttons at the neck. Niko is standing at the doorway, absently stroking his fingers across his five o’clock shadow as he scans the crowd.

  Looking for me.

  Finally his eyes lock with mine. A smile lights up his face, and I feel myself beaming in return.

  Niko moves through the crowd, headed straight to our table.


  “He’s here,” I say, briefly shifting my attention to Kenley. “Really hot guy with dark hair in the suit.”

  Kenley swivels toward the door.

  “Oh wow,” Kenley says, facing me. “He’s seriously hot.”

  “I told you he was.” I glance back at him, and Niko is almost to our table now.

  “I feel like I want to throw up,” I blurt out, as excitement and anxiety take turns doing battle in my stomach.

  “Don’t throw up. That would gross him out,” Kenley quips.

  “Shut up.”

  “You love me.”

  Just then Niko comes up to our table, flashing me another smile, one that reveals the dimple in his cheek.

  “Hey, Lexi,” he says, grinning. “Thanks for waiting on me. It took a while to get out of the truck.”

  “No problem.” I’m thankful that at least my voice sounds calm and unaffected, unlike the rest of me. “Niko, this is my roommate, Kenley Hunter. Kenley, this is Niko, the new Dallas Demons producer.”

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Niko says, extending his hand to her.

  “Likewise,” Kenley says, smiling at him while she shakes his hand.

  Then I watch for what always happens when guys meet Kenley for the first time. Their eyes linger over her, the smile broadens, and they start talking her up. Of course, Niko knows she’s dating Nate, so that last part won’t happen, but it will be hard for him not to stare because she’s stunning. All guys do it. I mean, they can’t help it, she’s like a model and all a—

  Niko releases her hand and immediately shifts his blue eyes to me. “What can I get you to drink?”

  Niko didn’t even bat an eyelash at her. He greeted her. Period.

  Those gorgeous Mediterranean eyes are now locked elsewhere.

  On me.

  “I’m sorry to have to run,” Kenley says, sliding down off the tall barstool chair and interrupting my thoughts. “But I’m going to meet some of the girls down in the lounge before Nate gets out.”