Page 57 of Puck Love

Icradlemy glass ofwine as we watch the flames lick the brick tile of the fireplace. Van sits on the couch opposite me, which I decide is a lot safer than sitting by my side because we’ve already crossed far too many personal-space boundaries in the last twenty-four hours. Sleeping in his bed these past two nights is just the tip of the iceberg. We cuddled practically all day yesterday while we watched game highlights, and again today when the team played against the Senators inOttawa.

Now, he leans forward to refill his wine, unsettling a sleeping Sigi in his lap. I watch Van’s every move like a hawk as I run the rim of my glass across my lips. I take a sip, and his mouth turns up in thecorner.

“Now, see, I can’t have you looking at me like that,Stella.”

“Likewhat?”

“Like you’re writing X-rated country songs about me in yourhead.”

“Oh my god, X-rated country songs? Wow, clearly I’ve been missing out on a market I should have been tappinginto.”

“No. That market isn’t for good little virgins likeyourself.”

I roll my eyes. “Okay,stop.”

“What? Does the word virgin botheryou?”

“Yeah, it does,” I snap. All the frustration and anger of years on tour, of never letting myself get close to anyone, of his constant taunts about my good girl status, lets loose. “I’ve had sex,Van.”

“What? You lied to me and all of America?” He wears an all-out grin now, and I swear to god, I want to punch him in his pretty nose. “I suddenly feel very unsafe withyou.”

“Shutup.”

“Nice try,sweetheart.”

“2007, backstage in my dressing room. I slept with a roadie inMissouri.”

“Bullshit.”

“It’s true. I had to work with him for another two years because I was terrified he’d talk. I hated seeing him every day after that. It was awkward, and it hurt likefuck.”

“Jesus. Would you quit saying thatword?”

“What? Fuck? Weren’t you just asking me two nights ago to repeatit?”

“I was, but when you just drop it into conversation like that, I can’t promise I won’t jizz in mypants.”

“Well, if you keep talking about ejaculating prematurely, I’m going to start thinking that’s a habit for you.” Iwink.

Van leans forward with a cocky smirk on his face. “One thing you should know about hockey players is that we have the stamina to last allnight.”

“Oh,really?”

“It’s a requirement, actually. Seriously, they test you on that when you try out for theteam.”

I laugh and tuck my legs up underneath me on the couch, but I don’t say anything in return because I’ve seen his teammates. Despite having their teeth knocked out every few games, they’re all built and very nice to look at. It really wouldn’t surprise me if they did select players based on their stamina between the sheets. “So, what happened between you and this roadie? Was there actual penetrationinvolved?”

“Of course therewas.”

“And you were howold?”

“Seventeen.”

“Jesus. How old washe?”

“He was twenty, I think. I don’t know—I guess I tried blocking it out. It was just after my mom died, and I was far too young to handle any of the emotional repercussions of a career in the spotlight. It just . . . it happened so fast. I got tired of feeling like a good girl, of trying to please everyone, and I guess he saw an easytarget.”

“Holy shit, Stella. Did he rapeyou?”

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