Page 82 of Confessions of a Former Puck Bunny

“And I’m yours,” he said, and it felt like the start of forever.

Epilogue

Lindsay

The smells and sounds of summer hit me as I walked out the patio door—sunshine-warmed grass, meat-scented smoke, beers being cracked open, and birds chirping. The door slid open seconds after I closed it, and Whitney and Hudson stepped outside, a cooler of drinks between them.

We were cheating a little—it wasn’tquitesummer, but it was low seventies and the last week of the semester. We’d been studying like crazy for finals and we all desperately needed a break.

My gaze skipped from Beck and Lyla to Megan and Dane, and then moved past them and landed on where it could linger forever.

Ryder “Ox” Maddox sat in a lawn chair, a beer bottle dangling from his hand, the bill of his hat pulled down far enough to cover his eyes. He appeared to be taking a nap, although I wasn’t sure how he possibly could with all the racket. He was more relaxed these days, quiet in the way that meant he was content instead of bottling everything up. We’d had dinner with his parents last week, which hadn’t been one of his relaxing moments, but we’d made it through, and they were trying to accept me just like I was still trying to accept them.

Neither were happy about the upcoming move to New Jersey, especially after our team had won the Frozen Four Tournament and become NCAA National Champions for the second year in a row—why wouldn’t you want to stay with your team after a season like that, his father had demanded before addingYou’re going to blow your chance to play for the NHL, don’t say I didn’t warn you.

I didn’t dare tell anyone I wasn’t excited about it, either. That the closer the moving date got, the more I dreaded leaving, which was why I’d done something crazy a couple of weeks ago. I’d been too scared to tell Ryder about what I’d done, or to even speak of it with anyone for fear it wouldn’t work out.

Now I had a huge decision to make, and I needed him to help me make it.

I walked up to his chair and leaned over him, gripping the armrests for support.

“Blocking my sun,” he muttered, and then he tipped up his head, peering at me from underneath the brim of his hat. That killer smile of his spread across his lips. He spun his hat around so the bill faced backward, then he grabbed my arm and tugged me onto his lap.

“Oh, I thought I was blocking your sun. I’d hate for you to not get your tan.” I shifted like I was going to bail, and he wrapped his arms around my middle, holding me in place.

He kissed my neck. “I thought you were Kowalski.”

I cleared my throat and did my best imitation of a dude voice. “Bro. How can you even think that?”

“I heard that,” Dane said, pointing the spatula in his hand at me.

Everyone laughed, and I sank back into Ryder’s embrace.

“Ready for your math final?” he asked.

“I better be. My tutor’s been working overtime to get me ready. I’m actually a little sore from all the acrobatic overtime we put in last night.”

Ryder pinched my side, making me jerk. “I hope you’re not doing that with your other tutors.”

“Lucky for you, I only need math help, or I totally would.”

“Not funny,” he growled, lightly biting my shoulder.

I laughed, because I thought it was pretty damn funny. I ran my fingers over the coarse hair on his arm, oddly fascinated by the way the sunlight caught it. “I’m ready for my final. Even readier for it to be over.”

“Angel.” Dane’s voice carried over and I noticed him holding the spatula out of Megan’s reach. “Men have been grilling since the dawn of time. I’m not saying that womencan’tdo it, just that you should leave me to my instinctual carnivorous instincts.”

“But you always burn it.” Megan reached behind him, trying to get the spatula, and he swiveled away, blocking her with his body.

“There’s no such thing as burning in grilling. Ask Hudson.”

“Don’t drag me into it,” Hudson replied. He turned to me, a brown bottle in his hand. “Beer, Lindsay?”

“Yes, please.”

He tossed it, and Ryder whipped his arm up and caught it before I even had the chance.

“Hey,” I said. “First Dane is accusing women of not being able to grill, and now you won’t let me catch my own beer?”

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