Page 10 of The Puck Bunny

“You and what army?”

I laugh.

Then the challenge begins and practice is a bitching whirlwind of skating, shooting, and yelling with sticks flying and more intensity than half my real games back in L.A. When Coach blows the whistle and shouts that it’s break time, I try to swallow a swear because of course he’s going to make us come back out here.

“What the fuck?” I mutter to no one in particular as I exit through the gate while Ryan and Rafe stand on each side like sentinels. Apparently, it’s the tradition of these co-captains.

“The fuck is that we get a break and then do a cool down skate and a quick on-ice meeting,” Ryan says.

I’m too beat to do anything but nod.

“Good job out there. You kept up.”

Rafe sounds like he’s surprised and I find I’m not too tired to give him the finger—which loses some of its bite with the glove on, but he gets the message and laughs.

* * *

When the practice ends for real and we get off the ice for a second time, I follow Finn. I let him go through the gate first because he’s loaded down with goalie gear and could shove me aside if he has a mind to. I step onto the rubber like I’m a sailor who was lost at sea and has finally found land.

Finn stops and elbows me.

“Dude, Delaney’s eying you. What the hell did you do?”

“Some viral video from last night,” I say. She’d sent me a text with said video, asking for an explanation, but I haven’t answered. Which has me doubly motivated to talk to Jonas—before I talk to her. I don’t want to throw him under the bus, but I don’t want to take the blame and let him get away with his behavior either.

“Last night?” It takes a beat and then it dawns on him. “You mean at The Tea Party when that crazy chick—”

“The young lady who stood up for the puck bunny,” I correct him because it doesn’t seem right to call her crazy. Bold maybe, but not crazy. Better yet, I’d call her brave, but I’m not going to mention that to Finn because that would make me the crazy one.

“Sure,” he says. “She was a trip. So why does Delaney need to see you about that and in person, no less?”

We’re standing at the gate and I glance in Delaney’s direction to see her with folded arms waiting near the locker room door so there’s no way to avoid her.

“Because I stood up for the young lady in question, which got me the starring role in the clip. And there were a few comments accompanying the video post that were more than suggestive. Now Delaney thinks I need to somehow distance myself because she doesn’t want my so-called L.A. image following me here to Boston.” I have limited control over that but I agree with her and she’s a pro, so I’ll go along with whatever she says.

“Your L.A. image, huh?” Finn grins wide and slaps me on the back. “Good luck with that. You know the saying; you can take the player out of L.A. but you—”

I give him the finger and walk away to him cackling behind me. When I reach the locker room, I step aside to join Delaney, not even pretending I don’t know she’s here to see me. Other guys give me looks as they file into the locker room.

“Sorry in advance for the sweat,” I say as I take my helmet off and rivulets drip down my temples.

She waves a hand and deepens her scowl as if I’m talking about a meaningless spec in the universe of problems. She’s probably right.

“We’ve got a solution to your problem,” she says.

“Is that right?” I can’t keep the skepticism from my voice but she ignores it.

“Be in my office in twenty minutes—showered and dressed.”

She looks me up and down and I know she’s not undressing me with her eyes, thinking I’m a specimen. No, I’m pretty sure she’s thinking I stink and look slimy and could probably use more than twenty minutes to get presentable. Not that she’ll give it to me.

Jonas walks by me with a smirk as Delaney walks away and I follow him into the locker room right to the bench where he sits.

I lean in. “I won’t have time today, but we will be having another talk. You’re not off the hook.”

He scoffs and gives me an eye-roll, but I can see it’s for show. His heart isn’t in it. Shit.

What’s this kid’s problem?