Page 6 of Not the Puck Bunny

Her voice was low and husky. My balls decided now was a good time to take notice. I told them to shut up too. They'd get me into trouble if I let them.

“Sure,” I said, half under my breath. As if pretending to run into someone wasn't the oldest puck bunny meet-cute in the book.

Yes, I know all about meet cutes; my sister reads a lot of romance novels. I won't admit to having borrowed them from her shelves, and read them before sneaking them back into place. No way.

Okay, yes I had, and I wasn't ashamed of it. I just wouldn't admit it if someone like Nate asked. There were things about me he didn't need to know. Mostly because he'd tease me mercilessly and there was nothing wrong with men reading romance novels. It was a good way to learn what women wanted without having to test that on a different woman every night.

He had his methods, and I had mine. I stood by it.

“I don't even know what I'm doing here,” she admitted. “This was all my sister's idea. She thinks I need to get out more.”

“Right.” I started to step around her. It sounded to me like her sister had a lot in common with Nate. No doubt they'd get along perfectly. That was also not my problem.

She stepped sideways with me. “Can I buy you a drink to apologize for running into you?” She held out her hand for me to shake.

I looked down at it and kept my hands by my sides. Apparently I needed to make my lack of interest clearer. She was gorgeous, but it was better if I walked away right then. Better for me and for her.

“I don't fuck puck bunnies.” I might as well be honest with her, before she made any assumptions, or further attempts to get my attention. Some women didn't like to take no for an answer. I'd save us both the hassle and nip this in the bud before it grew into a clingy weed.

She blinked again. She must have been an excellent actor, because she seemed genuinely confused. “Excuse me?”

I looked at her coldly. Before she could say another word, I placed my palm on the wall behind her. Leaned in until my breath brushed her pale, freckled cheek. Her breasts were almost touching my chest. I ignored the way her breathing became faster and shallower.

Her hair smelled like lavender. My grandmother used to dry the stuff and put it in teddy bears to sell at the local market. Somehow the scent made her seem, I don't know, innocent. I wanted to tell her to get the hell out of Shells. Stay away from players before she got played.

Instead, I whispered in her perfectly shaped ear, “I. Don't. Fuck. Puck. Bunnies.”

I pushed myself off the wall and stalked away, out of the bar.

Chapter Three

Andi

My practical heelsclicked on the white tiled floor.

I glanced down before skirting around the Sea Dragons' logo laid in the center, between panes of glass that bracketed the tall front, sliding doors.

Everyone else, I noticed, walked straight across it, wearing a path on the colored section of flooring. I winced to myself. The adorable Ruby Sea Dragon mascot, Cee-cee, was too cute for me to step on.

Us redheads have to stick together, I told her silently. She looked back at me, smiling and marketable. Cee-cee merchandise was a big revenue stream for the team. T-shirts, hoodies and plushies like the one I saw on the screen at Shells nearly a week ago.

A kid was waving her in the air, celebrating the win. That was right before that dark-haired asshole with ice cold brown eyes got all in my face. Mistaking me for someone who only wanted to sleep with hockey players to boost their public image, or whatever.

I wouldn't judge another woman for her life choices, but it wasn't something I'd do. Besides, everything I knew about ice hockey would fit in the back of a postage stamp.

Were those even things anymore? I thought so, although they'd largely been replaced by electronic communication and barcodes.

That man though. The memory made my pulse involuntarily race with a combination of irritation and arousal. Mostly irritation. Who did he think he was anyway?

Okay, I admit it. For approximately three seconds, I thought he might be exactly what I needed to help me forget about Xander. Right before he got up close and shattered that illusion. If I wanted an arrogant asshole, I'd date one of approximately half the men from Dad's office. Too many of them would happily date the boss's daughter, in the hopes it would boost their career.

Exactly why I had no intention of dating anyone I worked with. That was all way too muddy.

I stopped at the wood-clad reception desk and smiled at the woman who sat behind it, her hair wound in a neat, pink bun.

I showed her my I.D.

Her eyes narrowed, then widened. She shot up, sitting straighter in her seat. The sudden movement made it roll back a couple of feet, almost into the wall behind her. She windmilled her arms before pulling herself forward again with the ball of her feet.

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