Page 3 of The Puck Bunny

“That cough sounds rough. Maybe you ought to cut back on the cigarettes,” a sexy female voice says from behind me.

I jump and turn around to find—holy mother of hockey—the older puck bunny right there talking to me. Shit.

Coming to the bar, The Tea Party, tonight and watching from my cocoon of obscurity with my hair dyed red and baseball cap pulled low, was like having my own private show, watching the team play their off-ice game as the puck bunnies do their thing. But now I’ve got the head puck bunny talking to me.

I had managed to stay under the radar, unnoticed like the wallflower I am, completely obscured with no one paying attention to me until now.

“That was cool of you to stand up for Mindy back there.”

My nerves calm because she sounds nice. And she’s thanking me for butting in. “Oh, thanks. I guess I couldn’t help myself. Mindy doesn’t deserve to have her feelings hurt like that. No matter what.” I feel my face flush with the same indignation from before.

The lady smirks and puts out her hand.

“I’m Sheila. Mindy should have known better. I saw it coming a mile away. Tried to warn her not to get her hopes up.” She cocks her head. “And you are?”

“I’m… Lola.” I cringe inwardly at the made-up name. No way can I let her know who I am on the off chance she’d find out I work for the Brawlers. My boss would have a kitten if she knew I came to this player bar after a game.

“Meeting the players at The Tea Party for fun and games is not supposed to turn into something real.” Sheila shakes her head. “It’s exciting, and of course, all about—”

“Fantasy.” I totally get caught up in Sheila and Mindy’s plight.

“Some girls just can’t handle managing expectations, you know. It’s only for fun. They don’t get the deal.”

“One night of bliss and that’s all I’d need.” I sigh.

She laughs. “Sounds like you’re one of us. I haven’t seen you here before. You new to town?”

I don’t want to admit that I’ve been around all my life, that this was the first night I dared going out to a bar myself—in my defense I only turned twenty-one a few months ago—and only so I wouldn’t have to watch the game alone. I definitely can’t tell her I’ve avoided going places where the players go after games because I’m not supposed to fraternize.

I nod.

“I wouldn’t mind having you join our crowd, maybe meet us after the next home game if you want,” she says.

“Really?” My mind spins like a washing machine with an extra-large load, figuring out if I can pull it off. None of the players know who I am at work since I’m new. I’d have to make sure I keep up my altered appearance when I come out—I won’t call it a disguise exactly. And definitely keep up my low profile at work so I don’t run into any of the players—especially Quinn. Not that that’s a thing. In fact, it’s highly unlikely. “I’d love to. It would be so much fun. Do you go to late-night wild parties after the bar closes?”

She laughs. “Not usually, but there’ve been occasions.” She looks me over. “You might want to dress up a bit. Especially if you have your eye on one of the guys.”

“I do.”

“Okay, it’s a date then. I’ll tell the girls. Want to give me your number and I’ll put you on the group text?”

A grin takes over my face. This is like getting invited to the coolest sorority on campus only this is better because it’s real life. Or… is it? We just agreed it’s all about the fantasy, didn’t we? My momentary confusion doesn’t dampen the warm-and-fuzzy thrill that I get I rattle off my number.

After she leaves, I run down the street to the parking garage as if I’m Cinderella and it’s about to strike midnight. After I finally reach my pumpkin—er, car— I drive home to Revere, just north of the city, replaying the events from the moment I’d jumped from being a wallflower to being on the stage with the players and the puck bunnies.

Then I remember Sheila suggested I might want to dress up a bit and I gulp. How far out of my comfort zone am I willing to go? I’m not built for luring men in with my looks.

CHAPTER 2

QUINN

O’Rourke’s telling a story about having a third child and something about being surprised at the ultrasound yesterday when it showed up twins. That would normally get my attention and I’d buy him a drink—hell, I’d normally buy the whole joint a drink, except for two things.

One, I’m not in L.A. anymore and part of the reason for that is to cut back on the partying. The last thing I need to do is cultivate another entourage by buying drinks for the entire crowd at The Tea Party, even if I do get the sense that this crowd can’t be bought as easily as the others were back at the Razzle Dazzle in L.A.

And, second, I need to control the unusually strong impulse I have to follow the cute and brave puck bunny as she escapes out the door, practically bouncing off patrons like a pinball being played by the wizard himself. But she is adorable and not just because her voice had a nervous quiver as she declared war on assholes in defense of puck bunnies everywhere—God, that was so real I wanted to give her a hug.

She was dressed so differently than the rest of the puck bunnies at the table, in an oversized Brawlers’ jersey and baseball cap as if she were trying to hide her red hair that I’d bet my next endorsement is a dye job. And the way she looked at me before she left… Like I was a water mirage in a desert and she wanted to drink me up. Fuck..