Page 20 of Daring the Defender

“I’m going to assume it belonged to a puck bunny.” She pushes through the crowd and heads straight to the bar. Not sure what to do, I follow and watch as she lifts her hand, getting the bartender’s attention.

“What’s a puck bunny?”

“You really don’t know anything about this world, do you?” Twyler asks, genuinely surprised.

I shake my head. “My father didn’t really approve of Axel’s interest in hockey. He let him do it, but never supported it. Plus, it’s Texas. Everyone is focused on football.”

“Puck bunnies are the girls that hang around hockey players. They go to the games and are at all of the parties.” Twyler nods at a group of girls decked out in Wittmore swag in a booth across the room. Curiously they’re all looking at us. “They’re omnipresent.”

“So like a fan club?”

The girls share a look and Nadia snorts. “I guess you could call them that.” Then she holds up her hands innocently. “And no shade, because although I wasn’t a puck bunny, I definitely was a jersey chaser, until your brother entrapped me.” She turns to the bartender. “Hey, Mike, it’s slammed tonight.”

“You know how it is. The better they do, the more fans come out of the woodwork. It doesn’t help that we’re short handed tonight.” He lifts his chin. “What can I get you?”

“Two seltzers and…” she looks at me, eyebrows raised.

“Just a Coke.”

“And one Coke.” Her head tilts in my direction. “This is Axel’s sister, Shelby. She’s visiting for a few weeks.”

“Ah, thought you looked a little familiar.” He busies himself getting the drinks and a moment later slides them over the bar. Nadia grabs them, handing the can to Twyler and a glass to me.

“Jesus,” she mutters as a guy bumps into her. “It’s freaking packed tonight. Do you see any free tables?”

“There’s one,” Twyler says, pointing to the back. I follow them, holding my drink to my chest, and darting through the crowd. The table is directly under the big screen and as we slide into the booth, I notice that the game has already started.

The girls are instantly drawn into the game, but all I see is chaos. Everything moves so fast, the guys swarming over the ice. Axel, I can find, since he’s the goalie and has on extra pads, but the girls get me up to date on everyone else.

“Reese is number fifteen–and is a forward. He’s on a line with Kirby and Emerson.”

I have a vague idea about how the game is played from playing the video version with Axel, but seeing it live is different. “He’s captain, and hellbent on getting to the playoffs to make up for last season’s fiasco.”

“What fiasco–” I start to ask, but Nadia continues.

“Jefferson and Reid are on defense…”

I perk up at Reid’s name.

“What are their numbers?” I ask, taking a casual sip of my soda. “So I can keep up.”

“Jefferson is number twenty-three and Reid number eight.” Eight. Like the tattoo on his arm. Twyler watches the screen and her face lights up. “Oh, there he is.”

His big frame zips across the ice and I see his last name, Wilder, printed across his shoulders. He plays hard–aggressively. And I watch with fascination as he battles another player for the puck. He wins the skirmish and slaps it up the ice to Reese who knocks it out of the air with his stick, then turns, accelerating in a burst of energy toward the goal.

What follows happens so fast I can’t follow it, but Twyler whispers under her breath, “You got it, babe,” and a light flicks on behind the goal.

Nadia jumps out of her seat and shouts, “Yes!”

“Did they score?” I ask after the girls settle back down.

“Yep,” Twyler grins.

The ref calls intermission and the channel flips to a commercial. I’m taking another swallow of my drink when Nadia turns to me and tosses out, “So, Shelby, what was going on with you and Reid on Valentine’s Day?” Surprised at the question, I choke on the liquid, sputtering into a cough. Her eyes widen. “Twy, help her!”

Twyler rests her hand on my back. “Are you okay? Can you breathe?”

“I’m fine,” I say weakly, patting my chest. “Just went down the wrong way.”

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