Breakout (A Dallas Demons Hockey Romance) by Aven Ellis

family wanted him to be, and how he stayed true to his dreams in spite of it.
    “It’s you,” I say. “I love the meaning behind it.”
    “Thank you,” Niko says, and much to my disappointment, he tugs his sleeve back down again. “So today’s your big show edit. Nervous?”
    “No,” I say honestly. “I know I can do this.”
    Niko flashes me a bright smile. “I love your confidence.” His eyes sparkle. “However, I’ve seen the previous shows so you have every right to think you can do them better. I doubt you’ll misspell a Russian player’s name in graphic, which I saw last week.”
    I cringe, and Niko laughs.
    “How did that even happen?” I ask, incredulous that kind of mistake made it on air.
    “Welcome to TV,” Niko quips.
    “Well, not on my watch,” I say firmly.
    “You have two things in your favor,” Niko says. “First, you care. Second, you love hockey. That wouldn’t get past you.”
    “You’re forgetting one more thing.”
    Niko raises his eyebrow. “That you can spell?”
    I laugh. “No.”
    He flashes me that grin, the one that reveals his dimple, and, oh shit , it’s hard to keep my pulse under control when he does that.
    “Okay, so the third element is not spelling or the ability to check it.”
    “Third,” I say, pausing to take a sip of my coffee, “I take pride in my work. I’m a professional, and I care that it’s right. And how I perform reflects on both you and Ryan. I would never let either of you down.”
    Niko’s expression grows serious. “I don’t think you ever could do that, Lexi. In any way.”
    I feel my breath catch in my throat. I love the way he’s staring at me with such complete faith in his eyes. Kenley’s advice flashes through my head, and I know we’re more than coworkers here. I know it.
    Niko clears his throat. “So I can’t do lunch today because it’s game day.”
    “New York,” I say.
    “Right. But if you are game tomorrow, we could have lunch. Depending on your schedule.”
    Happiness fills me. “I’m editing a high school basketball show, but I think I can tear myself away for a few minutes to eat.”
    And I’d work late for hours on end if it meant spending time with you .
    “Perfect,” Niko says. “So lunch it is.”
    I smile. “Well, I’ll let you get back to those music cue sheets,” I say, nodding in the direction of the computer screen.
    Niko groans. “A necessary pain in the ass.”
    I laugh. “And thank you for the latte.”
    “Don’t forget to pick your new flavor,” Niko teases.
    “I won’t,” I say, walking out the door.
    I grin as I head toward my cubicle. More than ever I believe Kenley’s words. There is something more than friendship between us. The hurdle of not dating a coworker can be cleared, I know it. It might take time for Niko to see that, but I’m more than willing to wait.
    So I’m editing my first show today, I’m having lunch with Niko tomorrow, and I can’t help but think my life is more than perfect right now.
    This is hell .
    I glance over at Kimberlee, who is running her fingers through her platinum-blond locks, ones that she has told me no less than five times she just had a Keratin blow out done to make it extra gorgeous. Oh, which is why she was two hours late for our meeting this morning—she was able to “squeeze” in this appointment, and she knew it was a priority over our session because she’s on-air talent.
    “Make sure you keep the close up shots of me,” Kimberlee says, taking a sip of her Starbucks drink. “And if you need help understanding what to do, I have a DVD of how I like to be edited. You know, from my days on Rate Me to Date Me! if you need help.”
    I zero in on her Starbucks cup and notice first, her perfect French manicure, which unlike my nails—battered by keying all day—is utterly flawless and that her cup is marked up as “Non Fat, ½ Splenda, ½ Raw Sugar, ½ Equal, 2.5 shots espresso, 2 pumps sugar-free Vanilla latte.”
    Of