Warnings: Swearing/language
Word Count: 1.4k
Brock Boeser was going to be the death of you.
You worked with the Vancouver Canucks organization as a social media assistant, and you loved your job. With all great things in life, though, comes a catch, and yours was Brock. He was ridiculously attractive, with beautiful blonde hair and kind blue eyes that made you want to melt. The only problem was that he played for the Canucks and you were an employee of the organization. In your eyes, that made him off limits because you felt it would be incredibly unprofessional to be involved with him. That resolution was getting harder to stick to with every passing day.
Today, life decided to truly test you. It all started when you walked into your boss' office this morning.
"Good morning, (Y/N)," your boss said.
"Good morning," you replied.
"So the fans have been all over Twitter, Instagram, and Facebook demanding more Brock content, so we're doing an interview with him in 15 minutes. Unfortunately, Alex called in sick today so we have no one to operate the camera. You did a little camera work in college, right?"
"Sh-yeah." You caught yourself from cursing on the job.
"Great! We're going to do the interview in the conference room down the hall. You can go down there now to get ready. Oh," she said right before you were about to bolt out of her office, "Can you please give these cue cards to Kayla when she gets there?"
"Of course, thanks!" You took the cue cards out of her hands before finally making your escape.
You raced down the hall and into the conference room, which thankfully didn't have anyone in it. You locked the door behind you, needing a minute to compose yourself. What the fuck did you get yourself into? You had to be in close proximity to Brock while Kayla, your colleague who generally conducted interviews with the players, asked him a bunch of questions about himself. You didn't want to know anything personal about him because you were afraid that if you did, you would fall harder for him than you already had. That would be a disaster. For the past few months, it felt like you had been hanging on for dear life onto a rope, and your boss just cut that rope to almost nothing.
You were snapped out of your trance when you heard someone trying to turn the doorknob. You figured it was best to act like you didn't know how the door was locked: "It's open!" you shouted.
"No, it's locked." Of course, it was Brock on the other side of the door.
"It is? I'm coming." You walked over to the door, grabbed the doorknob, and acted like you were trying to open it.
"What the...oh, it's locked!" You unlocked the door and opened it.
You almost lost your composure when you saw Brock. He was wearing a Canucks sweatshirt and blue gym shorts, and his hair looked fluffier than ever.
"I'm sorry, I have no idea how that happened," you lied.
"It's fine, the locks in this place are really shitty," Brock replied. "How are you?"
"I'm good, how are you?"
"Better now that you're here."
Shit, why did he have to say that? You just smiled awkwardly in response.
"So are you the one interviewing me?" Brock asked.
"No, I'm operating the camera because Alex is sick today."
"Oh no! Please tell her I hope he feels better," he said, and you had no doubt that he was being sincere. Brock was, on top of being ridiculously handsome, a really nice guy.
"I will."
"Do you know what they're going to do the interview about?" Brock asked after a moment of silence, clearly desperate to make any type of conversation with you.
"I have no idea...oh, here's Kayla!" you said, grateful that she had saved you from this incredibly awkward conversation.
"Hey, (Y/N)," Kayla approached you after she walked into the conference room, "Thank you so much for stepping in today! I brought Brad from IT with me to help you out if there's an issue with the camera." She pointed at the guy standing behind you, who looked about your age.
"Thank you, that'll be really helpful," you replied. You didn't have that much experience with cameras, and Kayla knew it. You had only taken a directing class last spring so that you could get an easy A before graduating. It was already going to be hard enough to focus with Brock here, but at least you didn't have to worry about fucking up the entire interview with an error.
"Oh, and here are your cue cards," you added, almost forgetting that you had been clenching the cards in your fist the entire time.
"Thanks!" she replied, and you watched her bounce over to one of the chairs.
"Hey, do you want me to show you how to work the camera before they start?" Brad asked.
"Yeah, that'd be great, thanks!" you said.
When it was time for the interview to start, you felt confident enough to operate the camera by yourself. Brad turned out to be a really good teacher, and he just stood behind you as you called out, "Action!" and operated the camera.
You tried to concentrate only on the camera and block out Brock and Kayla, but you couldn't help listening when Kayla asked about his injury last March.
"Yeah, you know, it was really tough losing all that time to injury, but Barzal deserved to win the Calder," he said. "He is a fierce competitor and a really great guy, and he had an amazing year last year."
That response absolutely floored you; he was so classy. Why did Brock have to be so damn likeable?
"Alright, that's all the time we have. Thanks for watching, and let's go Canucks!" Kayla did her signature signoff, and you turned off the camera.
"That's a wrap," you said.
Kayla came running over to you and gave you a hug. "You did great," she said.
"Yeah, thanks to you and Brad."
"I'm happy I was able to help," Brad interjected, putting his hand on your shoulder. You didn't know how you felt about that, but you didn't shrug him off, either. Only a few seconds later, Brad removed his hand, and you saw why.
"Hey, (Y/N), can we talk?" Brock approached you.
"Sure," you replied.
"Brad, I have an issue with my computer in my office, can you please help me out with it?" Kayla asked.
"Sure," Brad said, and he walked out of the conference room. Kayla followed, but not before sending a subtle wink in your direction. You felt your cheeks flush.
When everyone left the room, you turned to Brock. "What's up?"
"I'm generally not so forward like this, but I have to tell you: I like you, (Y/N). Like, a lot," Brock said.
This was your worst nightmare coming to life. What were you going to say to him?
"I like you too, but I'm worried it's going to look unprofessional." You decided to be honest.
"Why? There's no policy that completely forbids you from dating a player."
"Yeah, but I feel like it's an unspoken rule in most places..."
"You have feelings for me, right?" Brock cut you off. You nodded in response. "And I feel the same way about you. (Y/N), you're so smart, and pretty, and funny, and really kind. I've had a crush on you since the first day we met. I understand your reservations, but no great things in life come about without risks."
You had butterflies in your stomach the whole time, but you didn't change your mind until he talked about risk. Brock was absolutely right: there are always risks, but you shouldn't let them stop you from living your life. You might miss out on something really great if you live your life that way.
"That's true," you said, smiling as you said it. Brock smiled too, and he began to lean towards you.
"I'm not going to pretend I have all the answers in life. All I know is that if you don't tell me to stop, I'm going to kiss you."
His face was only a few inches away from yours, but he stopped and waited for you to say something. You knew in your heart that Brock was worth the risk, so you closed the distance between you and kissed him.