Page 35 of Justice for Puck Bunnies

That first night, I had to escape before the end of the first period. The guys got too enthusiastic about a hat trick and my brain spiraled as I watched them excited and screaming at the screen.

I don’t know why it’s hot watching them all argue about the game and make critiques of the plays, or how I’m absolutely certain Mason sees how fun it is for me and knows I’m running away to avoid his sly smiles, but I made it through the whole game last night so that’s progress.

They’ve been so sweet. Spending a little time in their spaces, the surfaces and fabrics coated in their mix of smokey, sweet, and savory scents is my own slice of heaven. I’ll admit when I’m alone with my thoughts that I like leaving them a little bit of me behind too. It’s a good idea to get them at least a little attached, but it’s a fine line to walk.

Mason leaves his tablet unlocked with no pin, because of course he does, so he’s basically asked me to snoop and figure out what he has my number saved as in his contact list.

It’s an underwhelming, “LOML.” Lust of my life. I was expecting so much worse than a call back to our first few days of texting.

I don’t really know what I was expecting. Jolie made me promise multiple times that at the first sign of danger that I’d head straight for her new place.

I haven’t found the courage to tell her that Trick knows.

Trick knows.

Even now, the awareness that Trick knows my designation is the tense shade to every conversation. When we’re alone, it’s worse because I can tell he wants to touch me. He leans in too much. And I let him for a full second too long before reasserting space.

He hasn’t shown up at my door again. Whether he is afraid to or thinks I don’t want him to, it’s for the best.

I can’t lead the man on.

Yes, I want him to want me here, but also I don’t want him to refuse to let me leave. I want his...

No, it’s not just how he made me feel. I do want him, all of him, but I need to be able to walk out the door when my captain is ready.

I’ve contemplated replacing Brad with each of them again and again, but even Patrick Wyatt isn’t enough for the Admin. He’s a single alpha with only as much media presence as a pro hockey player can get while avoiding attention. It’s simply not his way. He’s quiet and keeps to himself, every bit the opposite of Brad.

Trick and Vin want to form a pack, that’s obvious, but they haven’t yet. Joining an established, wealthy pack with influence would be enough, but the Wyatt Pack hasn’t even marked its first member.

The Admin won’t be impressed by future possibilities, not when I’m nearing 30. It’ll be bad enough I’m not in their records, haven’t had the training, have been on suppressants, and am not following the procedure. They’ll never make an exception unless it’s truly, well, exceptional.

A love story I can sell about fated mates.

Come Friday morning, the boys are awake for an early skate and Mason slips me a plastic badge envelope with a piece of paper in it.

“What’s this?”

“Family practice is today. Thought you might want to come. Cheer for your boys where everyone can see. The pass will get you in.”

It isn’t normal in the league, but every other week the Cannons open a practice to friends and family of the team.

The life of a professional athlete is demanding on time, emotions, and body, and letting packs in to see what it’s all for is good for morale for everyone. There’s less animosity when a player is off the ice for a heat or to support another pack member when the team is one big family.

The rectangular plastic envelope is heavy in my hands. I don’t normally have my own pass. The times I’ve come to family practices, it’s been because Brad wants to go out afterward and he lets me in through the back. It’s what all the bunnies do.

This badge has my name printed on it and everything.

“What time?” I ask.

“Starts at three. Get there early or Kenricki’s kids will eat all the food.”

“Well, he has eight of them.”

Mason groans again. “How many times do I have to tell you? You can’t sexily taunt me with your hockey knowledge before practice. I’m gonna be hard all day.”

“Har har. I don’t get off work until three, but I’ve never even seen the food so it’s no big loss.”

“You’ve—”

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