Page 12 of The Puck Bunny

Dizziness threatens, but I warn myself there’s nothing to the look. No dimples. Only curiosity. Mild. Very mild.

Delaney jams her hands ono her hips. “Don’t disappoint me. We need to get some good social media out of this.” She glares at Quinn who appears totally unaffected. “Coach told management in no uncertain terms that he didn’t want you and your glam reputation overshadowing the team moral. To be precise, he doesn’t want some glittery puck boy from L.A. coming in here and ruining the locker room—his words, not mine.” She smiles like she wishes they were her words.

“No worries, Delaney,” Quinn says. “I’m ‘hockey and family’ only this season. I came here to get back to my roots and win The Cup.”

She nods, but I only see her from my peripheral vision because I’m too busy staring at the object of my every desire. Lucky for me, my tongue is tied or I’d be saying something like, Is it hot in here, or is it me?

“Dismissed,” Delaney says as if she’s commanding a squadron.

Quinn gestures for us to go through the door first.

Billie Mae grabs my arm and drags me to the right, back to the Brawlers’ corporate office cubicle-ville, the lowliest space in the sparkling empire, almost like a dungeon compared to the other offices and facilities.

“See you ladies Saturday.” Quinn turns in the opposite direction, toward the most rarified place in the empire—the practice facility and rink.

I watch Quinn go. Of course he’s not looking back at me. It couldn’t have been interest I’d seen in that eye-sparkle. It was probably the reflection of all the sparkle coming off my eyes rebounding back at me. If it’s possible, my insides go even more gooey as if I’ve reverted to my twelve-year-old fan-girl self. I need to snap out of this.

Back in my cubicle when some of the sparkle has worn off, I acknowledge that this assignment is the worst possible thing that could happen. Not because I could lose my job if my puck bunny status is found out, but because it’s doubly likely that he’ll recognize me as the puck bunny who plans to seduce him. Doubly hard for me to seduce him since he’s pretty much said he’s not interested in puck bunnies, or anyone for that matter—“Hockey and family only this season.”

Is it possible for me to fall for him just based on one meeting? No—I’m certain that’s my parched pussy talking and needing a drink of that tall glass of cool refreshing heaven that is Quinn James. The ultimate thirst quencher personified if I ever saw one.

“What is wrong with you? Have you lost your marbles? You looked more like a puck bunny than a polished professional back there.”

“That’s because I am,” I admit. “Do you think he recognized me?”

“As what? A cartoon fan-girl?”

I nudge her arm. “For real, Billie Mae, this is important. I’m going for the brass ring here. I have an honest-to-goodness goal to make this mind-numbing pauper-making job worthwhile—without getting caught. Did it look like he recognized that I was the puck bunny in the IG video?”

“I don’t think so. He would have said something, right?”

“Not if he wanted to be polite—and that man is very polite.”

She snorts. “Yeah—beautiful leg, really? What was that? You’re lucky he bailed you out of that awkward word-vomit.”

I roll my eyes. “I can’t help it if my name is Bellagamba.” I prefer to move on from the whole one-legged relative conversation and hang onto the premise that he did not recognize me. Where that leaves me, I’m not sure since he’s not going to be easy to wrangle now that he’s avoiding puck bunnies.

Then my bestie does her mind-reading routine. “You don’t need to worry about the whole puck bunny thing anymore,” Billie Mae says, “now that we’ll be seeing him professionally.”

“One event is not seeing him. Besides, the key word is professional. Which means no flirting, let alone big-O, virginity-busting hook-up. You heard Delaney.”

It’s her turn to roll her eyes. “That was all talk. She’d have to catch you doing it for it to be an issue—”

“Don’t even think those words.” I shudder.

Going to an event with him is the most fantastic assignment ever—and the worst at the same time because I can’t be with him officially or I’ll lose my job—which isn’t really that bad. But the worst consequence is that it could hurt his career. So that’s not going to happen.

The only way I can possibly achieve my goal is in my puck bunny persona. No one would blink an eye.

The only problem is he’s not interested—not even in puck bunnies.

CHAPTER 6

QUINN

Walking back to the parking garage, I’m pissed at Jonas and myself because I didn’t bother mentioning to Delaney that Jonas was the source of the puck bunny problem. I’m not sure I’m doing him any favors not telling her because he needs to be held accountable for being an asshole to the puck bunny—or, rather, Mindy. But in a fit of irony, I got myself involved in his reform while Delaney—and my mom—are focused on reforming me. Do I really need it? Maybe.

Puck bunnies are people too…