Page 8 of Confessions of a Former Puck Bunny

“I’m okay with a challenge. As I mentioned, once I set my mind on something…” He looked me up and down and heat licked at my skin, tracing the same path his eyes did. “I think the first order of business will be working on that grudge against math. Then we’ll shift to the one you have against hockey players.” He ran his fingers across his jaw. “I’d suggest starting by working with the very defenseman who wants to help you with math, and I’m pretty sure that’ll naturally solve the one against having fun.”

I lifted my chin. “I do not have a grudge against fun.” I should probably be more offended at his accusation, even if I had sort of forgotten what it was like to go out, no keeping my guard up, and just enjoy the moments as they came. But he’d said it lightly, more teasing, half challenge for sure, and despite how busy he was, he was offering to tutor me in his spare time.

Tutoring I desperately needed.

I didn’t want to have to owe him one. Lines still needed to be drawn, boundaries kept uncrossed. “What do you charge for private tutoring? If we’re not going to the tutoring center—and honestly I’d rather not—it seems like I should pay you. I wouldn’t want to take advantage of you.”

Mischief danced along the curve of his grin. “Feel free to take advantage of me anytime.”

I shook my head. “Walked right into that one.”

“Yes you did. Now, I’m hungry, you’re hungry, and if it makes you feel better, we’ll pretend the diner is the tutoring center and that we’re on the college’s dime.”

An internal debate took place in my head. That there were other tutors in the sea, so I’d find and pay one of them, even if I couldn’t afford it. Or I’d make do with the gruesome twosome in the tutoring center, because my tuition money already paid for that.

They’ll never get me in B range,my brain whispered. I told it to mind its own business, especially since it always took a break whenever Ryder was around, which was partially to blame for me being in this compromising position in the first place.

“How about this?” Ryder asked, obviously reading my hesitation. “For every tutoring session, we do something fun. That’s the payment plan.”

I arched an eyebrow. “And I suppose you get to decide what’s fun?”

“Well, you and fun aren’t acquainted enough for you to do it. Just consider me your intermediary.”

I shot him a look and let out an exaggerated sigh, but honestly, it wasn’t a bad deal. I supposed I could afford a little fun. Maybe.

He put his hand on the small of my back. “Now come on, neither of us is getting any younger.”

It hit me that he was at least two years younger than I was, which made me feel like my mom all over again. But when he tilted his head toward the exit and gave me a gentle nudge, I decided it was perfectly acceptable for my math tutor to be younger than me, and for me to go on a few fun, friendly outings with said tutor.

The way my blood rushed to the spot where he’d put his hand? Probably not so acceptable, but I was too hungry and too desperate for math help to turn back now.

Chapter Five

Ryder

I pushed into the diner and held the door open for Lindsay. The place had a retro look, everything done in blue, white, and silver, from the big booths to the padded stools lining the bar, and even the large tiles on the floor. Newspaper articles blanketed the wall over the counter, everything Boston-themed, with several covering the Celtics, the Sox, the Pats, and of course, the Bruins.

Growing up, I’d been all about the New York Islanders—hazard of having a father who played for them until his retirement and eventual transition into high school coach so he could personally make my training a living hell. Dane and Hudson were Rangers fans, and we often argued back and forth, debating and defending our teams. But I’d never seen any fans quite as dedicated as Boston’s, regardless of the sport. I still wouldn’t mind a few Islanders articles in the mix, but when in Rome and all. What was really great about this place was the food, the fact that it was open twenty-four hours, and that the owner had a soft spot for hockey players.

Dane spent half his nights here, and no surprise, he was seated in his usual booth. Whathadchanged over the past few months was that he rarely spent his nights here alone anymore. Megan’s strawberry blond head rested on Dane’s shoulder, and they were flicking sugar packets through the napkin holder uprights on the other side of the table.

When I glanced at Lindsay, she had that considering-bolting expression on her face again.What happened to her to make it so her first instinct is to flee?

I didn’t want her to feel like I was always pushing or pulling her, as if she didn’t have an option, but I think she sometimes needed a little push. Admittedly the excuse to touch her again also factored into my decision-making skills. I guided her toward the booths to the left.

I nodded at Kowalski when we neared his table, and he did a double take, his eyes going comically wide.Subtle.

“Bro. Hey.” Kowalski shot Lindsay a cautious smile. “Lindsay.”

The line of her jaw tightened. She sucked in a deep breath and slowly let it out. “Dane Kowalski.”

She and Megan exchanged polite hellos, and I instinctively stuck with the study aspect of our outing. “I’m helping Lindsay with one of her math classes, but we’re also starving, so we figured we’d get a bite to eat while we made our way through her homework.”

“I loathe math,” Lindsay said. “But since I need this stupid class to graduate, and Ryder here is apparently a math enthusiast—or possibly a masochist—I’m at his mercy.”

Megan’s eyes lit up. “Really? I love math. If you ever n—”

Kowalski planted a kiss on her, going a little above and beyond on the PDA, but when he pulled away, Megan had clearly forgotten she was in the middle of a sentence. “You just looked so pretty I couldn’t help myself.” He added a canary-eating grin and then they went back to gazing at each other that way they always did.

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