Page 33 of Justice for Puck Bunnies

Operation Justice for Puck Bunnies starts in earnest.

If Brad thinks he can ignore my–er, our antics, he’s sorely mistaken. The guys and I will make ourselves known. I’m gonna throw so much at him he’ll be crawling to me on hands and knees by the end of the week.

As I flip a pancake in another pan, I peck out a few more posts on my fourteenth username on the hockey fan site. I know Brad’s seen some of them because he’s reacted to the posts using his secret account and even replied a few times on his own behalf.

The responses are frustrated and edgy, so I know I’m striking center mass. He even argued with one of my fake accounts for a solid 20 minutes of constantly flying comments. I contemplate buying a disposable phone so we can gang up on him.

The guys probably wouldn’t like me doing this, but it has to help their cause too. Every day, Brad gets a healthy dose of humility and fair criticisms he could take to heart to make him a better captain. What he does with that information is up to him.

My mom messaged me earlier, so I also shoot her back a placating response. They’re so overbearing. Yes, I am an omega and the only one of their four kids. They worry but don’t need to. I’m all grown up.

“Bunny?” Mason calls out. “Are you feeding me again? You know that turns me on and I only have time for either food or sex.”

Vin mentioned at dinner that they had meetings this morning, so I set an early alarm. Trick snuck out when it went off, giving unnecessary apologies about not wanting to cause problems with the others. I needed time to do my face and get ready for work anyway.

I don’t particularly care if Vin and Mason find out he came to see me last night. I’m not ashamed of what we did.

Whether Trick’s uncomfortable about it is between him and them. Their dynamic is theirs to manage. While I don’t want to fuck with it, I also can’t be responsible for it. Trick’s a grown adult. A very grown adult. It’s not my job to keep him in line.

“Are you saying you’d rather eat bacon than pussy?” I call back.

He strides into the room in slick slacks and a button-down. Wet hair is combed back on his undercut and he still has shaving cream on his ear. He crowds me in, like he’s physically unable to give me space, and wraps his arms around me from behind so I can continue flipping pancakes.

“Maybe I can swing both. I’m very talented,” he murmurs in my ear. I use the kitchen towel to remove the shaving cream and then hit him in the face with it.

When he doesn’t back off, I check his crotch hard with my ass. He dodges away before I can repeat it.

“Unsportsmanlike conduct, Izzy. I should’ve known you wouldn’t be hungry this morning.”

“I’ll eat after you leave.”

Trick and Vin join us, both dressed in business casual. Vin’s got a stuffed duffel slung over his shoulder.

At the sight of them both, Mason’s grin spreads with malicious glee.

Uh-oh.

“I meant that you can’t be hungry after how full you were of Trick last night.”

A long, harsh beat of silence follows while I wait for a reaction.

Wyatt clears his throat. His eyes swing anxiously between the three of us, and I know he has to be calculating whether to tell them everything.

“Well—” is all he gets out before I cut him off.

“What exactly do you think you heard?” I ask briskly.

Please, please let it be innocent. Or, at least as innocent as fucking around can be.

“The sound of hypocrisy, my sexy bunny.” He swings to Trick. “Not that I blame you, but you gave both Vin and me such shit for spending any time with her at all and you’re sneaking into her room at night?”

He clenches his jaw, and I can see as plain as day he’s about to out me to the two of them.

“I invited him,” I spit out. “In a text message. I wanted to talk to him about plans for Brad-otage, but one thing led to another.”

“You ended up moaning for an alpha loud enough to wake me up next door.”

“Look, we never explicitly said it was off the table. You fingered me in front of Vin for fuck’s sake.”

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