Page 5 of Justice for Puck Bunnies

“Like hell you are!” Brad bellows.

“You should’ve thought about that before hiding your dick in Olivia’s mouth.”

The bar gasps.

“We aren’t exclusive,” he replies feebly.

“Oh, no? Then it shouldn’t matter who I kiss. Wanna take me home, newbie?” she asks Mason and pats him on the chest.

The bar whispers like gossipy school kids.

And Mason, to his credit, only stands there, too stunned to respond.

“Like hell you are!” Brad hollers again.

He’s never had much of a way with words. The guy’s all smile and the occasional charm. Why management wanted him to be captain is beyond me.

The big brute of an alpha tries to shoulder past me. Vin steps to my side to keep Brad back.

“You smell like my girl, beta,” he seethes. “I ought to make you bleed.”

“Vin’s your best goalie, captain,” I add.

“No need to worry,” Izzy proclaims. She plucks the permanent marker from the cup on the windowsill and fists Mason by his blond mop of hair.

The whole bar watches with rapt attention as she writes her number across Mason’s neck and plants a kiss beside it in faded mauve lipstick.

“Call me,” she purrs, slaps his cheek playfully, then struts through the crowd. I didn’t even realize she had a purse. She whirled through the three of us like a cartoon Tasmanian devil.

Tepid autumn wind sweeps into the bar as Isabelle fucking Sutton makes her grand exit. A hair flick and her round ass in perfectly fitted jeans is the last view any of us have of the bunny that very well could’ve just imploded our hockey season—or worse.

Damn.

Mason had better not fucking call her.

Chapter Two

Izzy

*Swoop*

The assigned message alert sounds from my cell.

“I’ll need to put you on hold while I research the answer to your question,” I inform the screaming octogenarian on the other end of the line and hit the hold button on my headset.

The guy needs to cool off anyway. Who gets that mad over credit card points?

Popping open the message, I silence my notifications and read Mason’s text with a grin.

Chuckling, I envision him leaning against a wall with that handsome, long face in a mischievous smirk while I reply.

It’s all in good fun. In the last few days, I’ve had time to come to the realization that I still need Brad. If I want to escape the Admin, I need a willing Alpha with enough status and resources.

I’ll have to swallow my pride and let other people swallow Brad.

The man in question has also been messaging me constantly, although I mostly leave him on read until I feel like he’s stressed enough by my lack of reply.

I’ve told him he needs to earn me back and left it to him to decide how best to do that.

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