Page 79 of Justice for Puck Bunnies

“I have to go, Mason. See you tonight.”

“Izzy, don’t—”

I hang up on him.

But I can’t keep the smile off my face. Mason is the perfect antidote for insecure Izzy.

The smile remains all throughout dinner.

My best friend barely notices and never asks me about my day.

The entire meal is consumed by flipping bridal magazines in the restaurant booth, cutting them up, and taping them into a binder.

I love Jolie like a sister. I’m excited for the wedding. Truly, I am.

Does it need to be the only thing we talk about?

I haven’t even had the chance to tell her about the social media gig with the guys. It’s a huge boost to my paltry savings.

At least part of that may be because I’m certain she’ll shit all over it because it has to do with them.

It’s ten grand a month for an hour of daily work. Who in their right mind turns that down?

Mason’s asleep in my bed when I get home.

Once undressed, I cuddle into his arms and make myself the little spoon.

“You are pure evil,” he mutters, half asleep. “Do you know the couch smells like you and sex? Pretty sure I should be sending you some doctor bills for shock and sprains.”

“Reasons you love me.”

He breathes softly, but a minute later he murmurs through his sleep.

“You’re going back to him. It’ll be torture when you wear his number and cheer his name.”

He nuzzles my neck and snores fully without saying anything else.

Fucking damn it.

* * *

Nine more days.

For nine long, agonizing days, the guys and I rotate around each other. My work cube becomes a small reprieve from the intensity of emotions.

They travel for two of them at an away game, and I both hate it and am relieved.

I’m afraid of getting too close to them, both for Brad and for myself.

They’re trying to be respectful. Their whole lives are hockey, day in and day out. It didn’t feel that way with Brad.

I’m a corollary to the center of their world, no more and no less.

My nerves are shot and I’ve become hyperaware of every microexpression and perceived slight.

Vin didn’t eat dinner. Does he not like my cooking?

I forgot to pack Mason his spare skate guards. He says he didn’t need them, but is he only being polite?

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