Page 102 of Pucked Up Plans
“In the bathroom. From the girl who was just at the table.”
“Which one?” As if that’s the most important piece to this mystery.
“The platinum blonde.”
Yep, see. No real difference since I don’t remember either of their names. But I know for certain, without a doubt, neither one of them is one of my handful of one-timers.
Without a better option or way to control my emotions, my feet pace around the corner we’re standing. How does a rumor like this even start? Better yet, who the hell came up with the name?
Cockcycle.
Even thinking it has my blood boiling.
A thought occurs to me. A worse thought than all others taking precedence in my mind since Tate brought it up.
I stop right in front of Tate. “Oh my god. You think it’strue? That’s why you’re acting all cagey, asking these questions. You think I’m what? Like a manwhore?”
Her gaze flicks down for a brief second before her shoulders slump. “I don’t. Not the Walsh I know. But the doubt started creeping in, especially because we haven’t known each other long. I don’t know what it’s like to be in college, and when you add hockey…” She’s unable to complete the thought. I don’t like how she’s bothered by this, and how I’m the source.
“It’s not true, Tate. Not any of it. Not even a single bit. I wouldn’t ever get involved, even for one night, with a bunny. I hate knowing girls may be with my friends before or after me. That’s not the type of guy I am. Have I not shown you that?” The defensiveness in my tone bleeds through.
Never did I think I’d be having this conversation with her. Not ever. And not because she’s not at school with me or into hockey. Because I thought she knew me. Knew what I was capable of. Or in this case, not capable of.
Her eyes dampen with tears. “I’m sorry. I was caught so off guard when she was spewing it, I didn’t know what to think. But I want to believe you.”
“But you don’t?”
She grabs for my wrists, but I keep them out of reach. I’m not ready to be touched by her. Not when she’s not completely convinced the rumor has no basis in reality.
“How do I prove it’s a total fabrication? A horrible one.”
“I-I don’t know,” she murmurs softly and unconfidently.
“And my word’s not good enough?”
I’m at a loss for how to get her to trust me, or even where we go from here. Do I drop her home and leave? Is my invite to stay still valid? Is this the end of the possibility of something more between Tate and me? That thought has my skin crawling.
I like her, everything I know about her, as little as she thinks it is. There’s not a doubt in my mind she isn’t who she’s portrayed or has any skeletons in her closet causing me to distrust her. Obviously, she doesn’t share those same sentiments about me.
I’ve never been in a situation like this before. I’ve never been involved with bunnies. Because with me, what you see is what you get. I just need to figure out how to make her understand.
“How do I get rid of the doubts?” Her voice is so small, so soft-spoken, I barely hear her. I also don’t have an answer for her. I can’t tell her what to believe, what to do, how to handle this situation. She has to make the choice—whether to put her trust in me or in what some sex-hungry cunt told her.
“What’s making you believe a stranger over me? Like, why do her words hold more clout than things I’ve said and done to the contrary?”
“A manwhore can still be a gentleman, Walsh.”
Damn, she has a point. Cody’s proof.
“I’ll give you that. Plenty of guys on the team fit that mold. None of them are me, though.” I pause, unsure what else to say or do. “What the hell even is a cockcycle? And no, it has nothing to do with hockey.”
“I’ve asked myself the same repeatedly. A cock taken for a ride, like a bicycle. That’s the best I can come up with.”
“Hmm. The more I think about it, the more it has a nice ring to it. Keeley cockcycle.” Using a short i versus the long i changes the effect. It’s also exactly what we need to break through the tension. “Too bad you didn’t have time to ride it, try it out for size. You’re missing out on something special.”
“Why can’t I sometime soon?” She slaps a hand over her mouth, my bad habits rubbing off on her.
She didn’t mean to say it, but it’s the in I need.
