Page 37 of Justice for Puck Bunnies

My red-hot lip pattern is barely visible, but he still smiles at it and then focuses on me. I think he’s going to yell something, until another player shoves him hard into the glass as he passes.

Brad flies by, not even looking back after the improper body check, and instead points to Livvy in the crowd.

“That’s it, sexy!” she screams in her pathetic, high-pitched baby voice.

Mason and I share a collective eye roll, but he returns to the scrimmage.

Trick’s nowhere to be seen, but Vin’s and Mason’s responses are enough to keep me floating to where the women are waiting.

“Ladies,” I say in greeting. “Sorry I’m late. I didn’t get off work until three.”

“Wyatt’s still making you work?” Livvy snips. “Poor little bunny, so much work to do whether sitting on your ass or flat on your back. Mason’s a dog; I bet he prefers it on all fours.”

Half the women willfully avoid looking at either of us, and the rest are gawking at Livvy or hyperfocused on my reaction.

“Jealousy is ugly on you, Olivia.”

“I scored the captain, so you’re projecting. And it’s Livvy, Isabelle.”

“We aren’t friends, Olivia. Call me whatever you like. You do not matter one bit to me.”

She laughs, her pretty, angular face becoming sharp and taut.

“You’ve never been a very good liar,” she announces to the group. “If I’m so low on your priorities list, why do you keep sending pathetic late-night text messages to Brad, begging him to take you back? I hear the pings, you know. We were fucking when you messaged him last night.”

Hell. Brad’s the one messaging me, not the other way around. Is that what he’s telling her?

Either she’s lying to embarrass me in front of the girls or he’s already cheating on Livvy too.

Probably a bit of both.

So, I fire my silver bullet—my phone. Flicking through the options, I open the string of texts between Brad, starting with his pathetic apology.

“Do me the honors?” I ask the girl seated to my right. She’s been here a few times. Her name might be Kenna, but it also might be Crista... I can never keep the Livettes straight.

She squints at the phone then confirms the last message in the chain is Brad begging for me back two days ago.

Olivia reddens and huffs. “She deleted it—or actually, I’d bet she has a second phone to hide her salacious activities from Wyatt and the rest. Or, I bet Brad had to block her number to keep the contact to a minimum. Two days ago is when we started dating seriously.”

Tamping down the jealousy and rage at her comment about dating seriously, I force a nonchalant smile. With that look in her eye, I know she won’t let it go unless I give her something truly stunning. Something so embarrassing that she can’t figure out how to burn through it with her dragon breath.

A plan forms to undercut some of Brad’s appeal to the others while I’m at it.

“Keep telling yourself that, Olivia. Just remember that when you’re cleaning his chartreuse toenail clippings out of the kitchen sink. Remember that he could pay a maid but instead he’s asking you to do it.”

“He . . . does not!” she splutters out.

But I know he does. He says acts of service are part of his love language—meaning he wants you to perform them. It’s been more than three weeks since I cut it off with him, which means he needs a new servicer of said acts.

The scrimmage lasts a full two hours more. I field two text messages from my parents and have to reassure them, again, that I’m fine. Being the second youngest and the only omega makes them overreact.

Their heavy attention is a burden. If only my beta siblings could carry even a fraction of it, then I wouldn’t have to lie to them so much.

Brad, Trick, and two others remain on the ice for some last-minute work on plays while Vin remains as the star goalie.

The girls start to clear out because the players are being released, which leaves me stranded with Livvy and her hangers-on. She holds court, bragging about our captain’s promise to take her to a five-star restaurant afterward for dinner.

She’s wearing leggings and cowboy boots so I find that highly suspect, but it’s no use arguing with her. I know Brad’s only taking her to upset me. He can’t possibly be serious about her.

---