Page 20 of Confessions of a Former Puck Bunny

“Hey, math tutor, why don’t you tally all the points I personally added to our score,” I said, and a giggle burst out. So far, the wall had taken most of my abuse. There were quite a few pockmarks around the board, most from years of people playing, but a couple were mine.

Like I said, one of my mom’s boyfriends had a dartboard, and I did used to be good. But with low lighting and alcohol buzzing through my system, my aim was off. Not to mention being distracted by Ryder’s nearness.

He reached over me and dislodged one of his darts from the board. “After all my tutelage, I’m pretty sure you should be able to add zero.”

I elbowed him, catching him in the gut. He grunted and caught my arm. “Hey. We’re on the same team, remember?”

“Well, you suck at pep talks, and you should work on that.”

Dane gloated, whistling at their total when Megan—who was at least nice about how badly they beat us—gave it. The two of them were a powerhouse. Had Ryder been on a team by himself, he might’ve been able to hang in the competition.

Ryder ran his hand down my arm, making goose bumps rise in its wake. “We’ll get ’em next time,” he said, his breath stirring my hair. He moved his lips closer, so close that they brushed my ear. “How’s that for a pep talk? Better?”

My heart hammered against my rib cage, fast and hard enough it made me dizzy. I wanted to blame the alcohol, but it was already working its way out of my system, and my brain started screaming everything it must’ve tried yelling at me when I was too drunk to listen.

I shouldn’t be flirting with Ryder Maddox, D-man for the BC hockey team. I was supposed to be flirting with other guys who could help me deal with the longing I occasionally felt without things getting messy.Saferguys, who weren’t my personal kryptonite.

Stupid vodka, making me forget all my goals. It made me more forward, too—my hand was curled over one of Ryder’s forearms, and while the course hair tickling my palm and the hard muscles underneath sent a spike of desire through me, I knew I shouldn’t leave it there. I didn’t even remember deciding to grab on in the first place.

I might have to kill Whitney for dragging me here.

Well, kill was a little harsh, considering this had been the most carefree fun night I’d had in a long time. Maybe I’d just fire her. Easier than blaming myself, right?

I released my grip on Ryder’s arm and spun to face him, planning on telling him I needed some air. Instead his gaze caught mine and that signature intense look crossed his features. But it was softer tonight, edged with something else. The warmth of his body soaked into mine and my chest bumped his when I took a deep breath.

Heat flooded my veins and pooled low in my stomach.

Confession #7:I haven’t had sex in nearly a year.

I’m not going to confess how often I used to enjoy some fun between the sheets, because I wasn’t that same person who wanted to play the hookup game anymore. Plenty of my past interactions with hockey players included shamelessly flirting and making a valiant effort at breaking theGuinness Book of World Recordsfor longest make out sesh, but I didn’t jump into bed witheveryone of them. Probably more than I wanted to admit to, though.

And here I was, wondering what it’d be like with the one standing so close I could see the pulse beating at the base of his neck.

“I’m going to go get a drink,” I blurted out, taking a giant step back and running into the dartboard. It bumped against the wall, but I didn’t bother steadying it. “Anyone else need anything?”

Dane and Megan had backed away, giving Ryder and me space, which was more proof I’d let the flirting go too far.

“I can get—” Ryder started, but I waved my hand.

“I’ve got it. I’ll be right back.” I wove my way through the crowd, occasionally being jostled, and doing a fair amount of jostling right back. I thought the place had been packed before, but now people crowded every inch of the dance floor. I squeezed through bodies and stood at the end of the line that led to the drink table. Problem was, I shouldn’t drink anything, not with alcohol anyway. It’d already impaired my decision-making abilities enough, and I needed a clear head right now.

Guess I’d have to settle for clear-ish—between the remaining alcohol in my system and deafening music, clear wasn’t an option.

Obviously I was attracted to Ryder. He was nicer than I’d expected, had that surprising sense of humor, and I had a feeling if I crossed lines with him, sexy good times would be had by all.

Mere hours ago, I’d thought about how I wanted someone to cuddle up with, to experience some fun with. But what was the point in going for anything even semi-serious? I only had a few months left here at Boston College. It was too late to find a guy, but some carefree fun wouldn’t kill me, right?

A fleeting thought broke through, about how crossing lines might screw things up and then I’d lose my math tutor, and my grades so couldn’t handle that right now. But the memory of being pressed against him followed on its heels, desire drowning out my pesky common sense.

So I’d need someone else to teach me math. Big deal.

Hands gripped my waist. I looked over my shoulder, glad that Ryder had followed me over, even though I should be mad he hadn’t given me space like I thought I’d needed.

Only it wasn’t Ryder.

I stiffened. “Brett.”

He leaned in and nuzzled my neck, his hands drifting toward my stomach. “Lindsay. Long time no see.”

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