Page 36 of Pucking Grey

“Why not?” I ask.

“Because they just can’t. Now, let’s make this fair and start in the middle.”

He places the puck in the center. His eyes are on the puck while I stare at him. I use all my strength to hit his hockey stick out of his hand, but his grip is too strong, and it doesn’t faze him. It puts me at a disadvantage because now he has the puck. I quickly turn, but he’s already shooting his shot into the goal.

The puck slides right into the net. Fuck!

He spins around, smiling at me. “Pack your things, bunny. You’re moving in with me.”

I think I could vomit. No, seriously I could take this hockey stick and whack him in the head.Hard.He has a stupid smirk on his face, and it needs to stop.

“You’re awfully too good with that stick.” If only I wasn’t drunk, I could have been better competition. I really think I could whoop his ass – if I had my head on right.

“That and other things,” he smiles.

I let him walk into that one so that I could reply, “Taking advantage of a drunk girl, huh?”

“I won fair and square. You’re moving in with me.”

Tickle me pink.I’m staring at him, wondering why the hell I need to move in with him over this.

“Come on,” he says before I can say anything. “You need to pack your things.”

“You think you are so funny,” I scowl.

“I can’t believe you’re making me do this right now.” It’s almost midnight, and I’m packing my bags. “For a whole month, Grey?”

“An entire month. To make it fair, I won’t sleep with anyone.”

“God, I hope not if I’m staying in your bed. How awkward would that be?”

“Nothing I haven’t done before,” he jokes, but I’m truly disgusted as I glance over my shoulder. He smiles, full teeth showing, wide and brighter than the sun. There it is. Greyson in his glory, more beautiful than any man I have ever laid eyes on. There isn’t a doubt in my mind about Grey having a threesome.Ew.

“You’re fast on the ice. Did your dad teach you?” he asks as I pack my bags.

“Why? Are you impressed by this puck bunny?”

“You have a weird obsession with being a puck bunny.”

I shove my underwear in a tiny bag. “What? Puck bunnies are hot. I always wished I could be one.”

His brows furrow in question.

“They’re always dolled up and cute at the games, ready for any type of hockey stick to be thrown their way. I’m very far from that. And plus, they’re not all whores. My dad married one.”

“Ah, see. I don’t think someone like you wants to sit pretty in the stands. You were born on the ice.”

I throw random pieces of clothing into another bag. “The funny thing about that is my dad missed my birth for hockey.”

“What?”

“Yeah, he had an important game that day.”

“Wow, I love hockey, but I would never miss my daughter’s birth over it.”

I look over at him, not believing that for one second. My father is a far better man than Greyson Cress. Come on. “It’s funny you say that because when I told Matt, he was all ‘I would miss all my kid’s birth for the Stanley Cup.’”

“Your dad won the Stanley Cup… on your birthday?”

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