Page 58 of The Puck Bunny

“They’re popping free and so hard.” There’s a strain in my voice and he groans again under his breath.

“You’re determined to kill me, aren’t you? To crush my resolve.” He takes a deep breath. “But one of us needs to be good. Funny, I thought it was going to be you.”

And my big O desire has now been crushed. “I’m sorry. You’re right. I’m out of line calling you. It won’t happen again.” I keep my cool and mean the words. “Except for business.”

Now what? Do I back off and try to be cool, keeping it just friends when he returns as promised? Or do I really test him, press forward, run with the momentum, and go all the way to the promised land?

Do I dare take the risk of rejection or getting found out? Can I see myself breaking all the rules, sneaking around, and hiding a fling from everyone—Delaney, my family, and his family too?

Because there’s no way I want him to get in trouble over a little fling with me.

And what if it’s not a little fling? What if it’s a big fling?

Because chances are my falling heart will tumble all the way. Am I prepared for that?

Yes. Because that’s when I quit my job and save us all from the clutches of disaster.

That’s when I move onto my next job and the next chapter of my life with a clean break, wiping the slate of my romantic life clean. Like nothing ever happened.

Right?

Right. Sounds incredibly painful. And lonely. Crap.

“Look, I should go,” he says. Thank you for the call to cheer me up. It was a sucky game tonight. No way to sugarcoat it or try to pretend otherwise,” he says.

“Everyone’s entitled to a lousy game now and then. The team and you will bounce back when you get home. It’s been a long road trip.”

I adjust to the role of friend and it feels right. My chest feels heavy and my belly hollows out like his unspoken words have sucked all the energy out of me.

“Sorry if I’m a downer. You’re right; we’ll bounce back. But it’ll take a fuck load of hard work and attention to every little detail. More attention than I’ve been giving.”

“Okay.” My voice sounds small and I try to smile to make myself speak normally. “I’m sure you’re right.”

“I’ll be back home tomorrow. No more phone calls. You ready for that?” he asks.

“As ready as you are.”

He laughs softly and I picture his dimple and the soft crinkles at the corners of his beautiful blue eyes, and my uterus whimpers.

“We can do this. We can behave like two professional adults. You have a job to do and so do I. I need to focus.”

I know he’s disappointed about his so-called six-game scoring slump, but it can’t be because of me—can it?

“You’re right. Of course.”

“You’re a young woman, a truly hot young woman with a lot to offer. You’ll have no problem finding someone else. A younger guy.”

“You don’t mean, that do you?”

“Which part?”

“About finding a younger guy.”

“I should mean it, but I hope you don’t mind if I’m a little jealous of your future young man.”

“Stop talking like you’re old. That’s ridiculous.”

He laughs. “You’re right. I’m not old, but I’m too old for you. And I’m unavailable.”