Page 10 of Not the Puck Bunny

She reclaimed her hand. “I'm sure they have.”

I didn't imagine her gaze sliding in my direction, before flicking back to Coach. What did that mean? Did she thinkIknew who she was the other night? I frowned, trying to make some sense of it. I was missing something, that was obvious. Who was this woman?

I glanced at the guys. Blake and Nate shrugged. Flynn's expression gave away nothing.

Andi cleared her throat and addressed the room. She didn't raise her voice any louder than a normal, conversational level. She knew how to make herself heard without shouting.

That further added to the mystery of who shewas. If she owned a hockey team, she must have money, maybe even influence.

Another good reason to stay away from her. Women like her didn't look twice at men like me. She probably ate caviar off gold plates, and had black silk sheets. I was not going to picture her eating caviar off a gold plate while lying naked on those silk sheets. My dick was certainlynotgoing to twitch at the idea.

She was trouble with heated, silver toilet seats, or whatever people like her had.

Something about Andi Welling suggested she wasn't like that, but I'd been fooled before. I wasn't letting a pretty face fool me ever again.

My balls reminded me how it felt to be close to her, her lips inches from mine. I ignored them. Thinking with my balls never ended well.

They both stuck up their middle fingers at me. Figuratively.

“I don't intend to make any major changes,” Andi was saying. “Not right away. Except for the elevators. They seem a little janky.”

“They are janky,” Nate offered. “You need to hold down the buttonhardbefore they play nice.” His choice of words were deliberate. “If you like, Ican show you around the arena.” He wore his best, smooth-as-fuck expression on his face.

For some reason, I wanted to wipe it right off there.

“That would be nice, thank you,” she said graciously. “Unless anyone has any questions for me?” Up until now, we'd kept the muttering between ourselves to a minimum, but the speculation was undeniable.

“How come you own a hockey team?” Blake asked, forward as ever.

She smiled at him, like she expected the question. “Why wouldn't I own one?”

“Okay, whythisone?” Blake pressed. “I mean, we're awesome and all, but…"

“Does it bother you that a woman owns your team?” Her expression was bland, but her words laced with expectation. Of what, I wasn't sure. She seemed to want his honesty.

“Nah,” he replied easily. “Anyone who doesn't know Zack is all right in my books.”

“Fuck off,” Zack growled. “She doesn't know who you are either.” He glared at Blake, hands in fists at his sides.

Blake grinned back at him, undeterred. “I'm okay with that. She will soon.”

“Blake Eastwood,” Andi said, her tone still bland, but something like mischief shining in her eyes. “Goalie.”

Blake grinned bigger, while Zack spluttered.

Nate and Flynn both choked back laughs, and even Coach Lampton was smiling.

Me? I wasn't sure what to think. Did she know who we were or didn't she?

“Lucky guess,” Zack muttered.

“Blake is one of the most recognized players in the NHL,” I stated, my gaze on hers, watching for her reaction.

“Point nine one zero save average,” Andi said, her chin raised.

“It could be better.” Blake rubbed a hand over the back of his head and tried not to crow at being singled out.

“So, you know who we are,” I stated.

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