Page 19 of Justice for Puck Bunnies

I don’t get the sense he’d do that, though. He’s the kind of guy who considers his word is his bond or what have you.

No, it was in how he said he didn’t want me in this room. It’s only a four-bedroom house, and the rest are taken, so there wasn’t much choice.

Still, the inflection made me think he wasn’t so much uncomfortable with me being under his roof as he was about me staying in this particular place.

I’ve privately offered several times to sleep on the couch or in the office downstairs. After all, I slept on Jolie’s couch for years. His couch is a cushy dream and a drastic upgrade.

And yet he insists it’s fine. Men are stupid.

The box I’ve opened is full of toiletries and bathroom junk, so I head into the private attached bath to unpack the necessities. My makeup drawers will take up all the countertop space alone, and I’ll need to find a hidey-hole to stash my pills.

Operation Jealous Zealot is under way. This is for every bunny who’s been shafted, and not in a fun way.

Do I want to wash grown men’s socks and clean up after their shaving? Absolutely not. But I wouldn’t mind making them dinner, and I can cope with the rest in exchange for free room and board in what’s actually a very nice house.

This will work. Jolie and I are going to get married at the same time and be bridal besties like we’ve always planned.

Luck rarely smiles on me, so perhaps she’s making up for lost time.

Living with the guys is a truly stellar opportunity. The more I dwell on where I’ve landed, the more optimistic I’ve become.

Brad is going to hate this, which means it’s perfect.

I have a safe, cushy place to live rent-free where the trade-off is minimal. They haven’t said a single word about my expenses and have promised to give me a card for their grocery shopping, which includes me.

All the players are paid pretty well, but none of my guys are known for flaunting their wealth. This house is in upper-middle class suburbia. They drive higher end brands but nothing in the six figures. It’s only Mason’s first year back on pro ice. I’m sure he’s dying for his first big check.

Visions of the guys on the ice, of Vin’s smooth-not-smooth voice in my ear, of Trick’s big hands on me, of Mason’s sly grins...

They are so much the opposite of Brad, with his flashy car that cost more than a house and his penthouse apartment.

If I pushed the physicality with them, it’ll drive my target up the wall.

Maybe I don’t need to be so loyal to Brad after all.

The time unpacking my palettes is spent mulling over my vow of chastity.

Brad’s definitely not waiting around. I’ve heard from three different girls how he’s bringing Livvy out to dinner at our favorite restaurants.

He thinks he can make me bend, but he has no idea what’s headed for him.

Brad won’t be faithful to me while we’re separated, or even when we get back together, so why should I be the only one to suffer? All three of my guys are as hot as fucking Hades. Mason’s begged me every day to rethink his friend-zoning.

Justice can include lots and lots of orgasms, right?

They all smell so fucking good. They have their own auras about them, but together? R.I.P. my panties.

No. Focus, Izzy. Be professional.

I am steel. I am a fortress. I can resist temptation.

What I apparently can’t do is keep my shit together when my new alpha comes to find me.

Chapter Four

“I think this is the last of it,” Trick says as he comes into my new room. The box in his hands is so full that it’s bulging at both ends and the corners are rounded. Through the bathroom door, I nod to the bed so he’ll drop it there.

He takes his keys to split the tape, but at the last second, I realize it’s labeled as “kitchen stuff.”

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