Page 17 of Forbidden Puck
“I see what Lance likes about her,” she said. “I can't really blame her, though. Girl's got a great butt, and she clearly works for it. In half the pictures, she's doing squats at the gym. Rock it, girl, rock that ass.”
I laughed, and so did she, and then a silence came over us. Not an uncomfortable one—not at all. She kicked off her ballet flats and crossed her legs, took a sip of her drink, and so did I. And then I noticed that she'd touched her tiny foot to my leg. Her foot was so light, I almost didn't feel it against me. Her touch was so light, I pretended I hadn't noticed.
“So how'd you get the nickname Radar?” she asked suddenly, quietly.
“My name is Ryan Ryder. So it sounds similar, I guess. But a coach in Junior started calling me Radar and it stuck.”
“Yeah, but why Radar? Is there a reason behind it?”
“Er—well, yeah, but it's kind of lame.”
Her green eyes beamed at me. “Remember, you're talking toHoney Badger.”
I wagged my finger at her. “I want to hear the story behind that, by the way.”
“Sure. After you tell me yours.”
“Deal. Basically—and this is in my old coach's words, not mine—once someone gets my attention, I lock onto them and don't let them go. A heat-seeking missile on ice, on a mission to destroy.”
She covered her mouth while she tittered.
“What?” I asked.
“You're right. Thatislame.”
“Hey, what the hell?” I growled, and I stuck my finger into her shoulder and gave her a playful shove.
“Sorry! It is. But it's not your fault that your coach came up with it.”
“Yeah, yeah. Anyway, it's your turn. What's the story on 'Honey Badger'?”
She gestured for my phone again. I gave it to her and she loaded up a YouTube video titled,The Crazy Nastyass Honey Badger.
I raised an eyebrow at her. “Thewhat?”
“I know,” she said. “Just watch.”
I watched as a weasel-looking animal, long-bodied and short-legged, came trotting on screen. The top of the animal, from its head to its tail, was covered with a band of white fur—but the sides down to its legs was all black fur.
“Is this a nature video?” I asked.
“Just watch!”
“This is the honey badger,” the video narrator said in a goofy voice. “Watch it run in slow motion. It's pretty badass.”
I busted up with sudden laughter. “What the hell is this?”
“Keep watching!” she giggled.
She huddled closer, so she could watch over my shoulder. I scooted over and made room for her on the chair. She sat on the edge of my chair and our thighs touched.
The two of us watched as the honey badger climbed a tree to eat a snake, chased a jackal, and ignored the stingers of thousands of bees as it terrorized their hive. Ella and I howled with laughter.
“Honey badger don't give a shit, it just takes what it wants!”The narrator continued, “The honey badger has been referred to as the most fearless animal in all the animal kingdom. It really doesn't give a shit.”
She had such a cute laugh, where her whole body shook, and her laugh climbed higher and higher until she reached this lovely, carefree crescendo … like she was experiencing pure joy and letting it flow right through her.
I didn't know why the sound of her laugh resonated in me so much. All I knew was that I loved it, and I wanted to hear more of it. I figured it was the kind of laugh that could keep a man young; the kind of laugh that a man would eagerly dedicate the rest of his life to hearing.
