Page 46 of A Little Too Forward

“As if I could let you win and hold that over my head for the rest of my life. Look at how you’re bringing it up now! For the record”—I turn to the camera—“I am an excellent skater.”

“I’ll have to see it to believe it,” Max teases, and I shoot him a coy smile.

Looking down at my notes, I open my mouth to ask the next question that fits perfectly into our current topic when a voice rings out through the room.

“Cut. Let’s all take a break.” Bruna motions to me as the crew starts moving around. Everyone looks a little confused as to why she stopped what was clearly captivating interview banter.

Shooting Max a perplexed look, I stand, running my suddenly sweaty hands down my jeans. Bruna walks to the far corner of the room, distracted by her phone. Or at least I think she is until I’m a foot away from her.

“Have you liked this project, Sabrina? Does hosting this kind of show seem like something you would like to do again in the future?”

I’m completely thrown by the question. Her words give the impression that she’s liked what she’s seen so far, but the tone leads me to believe something entirely different.

“Um, yes. I’ve really enjoyed this format of reporting. It’s a more personal approach than the statistical one I’m used to doing. And I—”

“I’m glad. I could definitely see you doing more of these for us in the future.”

“I would be honoured” is all I’m able to say before she continues. Her gaze bores into mine, dark and serious.

“But in order for that to happen, you have to uphold your reputation, keep striving for excellence. SNN doesn’t tolerate any scandal. I know being a woman in a man’s field has its challenges, but you’ll have to continue to fight. Players of every sport will always flirt, push for a reaction. As a professional, you’ll need to learn how to push back.”

Her hand reaches out to catch one of mine. “Keep it separate. Personal and professional. Keep it separate. It’s a motto I’ve lived by, and look where I am now. I’m passing it on to you.”

With that, she drops my hand and goes back to tapping away at her phone. “This segment looks like it’s going well. I’ll leave you to finish. Call me when you’re back in the city. I’m sure the editing guys will have a screening date by then.” Then she’s off, taking all the air with her.

I feel like I can’t breathe. My mouth is wide open, but I can’t seem to draw in any air. The passive-aggressive tone of her words has me confused. She believes in me…but also doesn’t. Does she think I’m throwing away my career for a casual NHL hookup? Is that what everyone here thinks?

No, that can’t be right. The crew knows from the hours of footage we have that Max and I grew up together. Hell, didn’t we just underline that fact minutes ago?

Does that even matter though? Childhood friendship or not, will the sports reporting world judge me for having a relationship with someone I work with, inadvertently or not?

Oh God, the room feels stifling. My whole body feels uncomfortable and hot. Is the room spinning, or is that just me?

“Sabrina? Are you ready to roll again? I think we have enough now for one more question and then a wrap-up. What do you think?”

I know I’m nodding, but as I move back to my spot on the sofa near Max, I’m in a daze. I’m not sure how I do it, but I finish the interview and wrap up with closing remarks.

“Sabrina, are you okay?” Max’s voice cuts through my brain fog.

“Yes,” I force out, a smile on my face. “Yeah. You know, I was just thinking that I’ll grab a ride back into the city with the crew. That way, when Mason and Sidney come over later, you can have your guy time.”

“Guy time? I don’t need that. Stay, and then we can all head—”

“No, I think heading out now is the right move. I’ll call you later though,” I say, already moving away from him and toward the front entrance. “And we’ll make plans for when you’re back from…wherever your next away game is.”

God, that wasn’t convincing at all, but I need to get out of here and think. I want Max with a desperation I’ve never felt before. Yet I’m not sure I’m ready to risk my career on something so new and fragile.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

SABRINA

This is going to be so awkward.

For the last two weeks, I’ve been avoiding Max like the plague. Ignoring his phone calls, reading but not replying to his texts, and certainly not going to his games. But I’ve been watching.

How could I not? Walking away from him that day to think it all through was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. I should have communicated that to him. I should have shared what Bruna said to me and all the conflicting and shitty emotions they brought up. Instead, I just made a sorry-ass excuse and left him in his big mansion with part of a film crew.

The worst part about it all is that he doesn’t seem upset by it. Every message he leaves me is a nice one—like I wasn’t a chickenshit who ran. He asks me about my day, tells me about his, and always ends the message with a “see you soon.”

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