Page 40 of Confessions of a Former Puck Bunny

Confession #13:After eleven months sober, I kissed a hockey player.

Like some of the most powerful drugs, all it took was one hit to be hooked—because I was definitely already addicted to the way Ryder Maddox kissed. And I wasn’t sure any girl, no matter how strong, could get over something like that.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Ryder

Fuck.Every time I thought I’d finally broken through Lindsay’s walls, she ended up fleeing. My head was still spinning from the kiss, and there was also the urge to kill my roommates, and the feelings were so opposite each other all I could do for a couple of seconds was stand perfectly still and blink.

“So, high five, or do you want to high-five my face?” Dane cautiously held up his palm.

“She’s going to say my world crossed into hers and that I didn’t keep my word about crossing the streams, and”—I scrubbed a hand over my face—“Now I fucked it all up.”

I’d given her space for a few days, my plan to focus solely on hockey taking center stage, and when she’d texted, I almost told her I didn’t have time to tutor her. But I couldn’t let her fail her class. Funny enough, multitasking at the gym was supposed to keep my hands and mind busy enough to help combat the constant desire to touch her.

Hudson set his bag off to the side. “Not that I’m an expert on the subject—”

“Of fucking up?” Dane sat on the weight bench. “I think you are actually an expert on that.”

Hudson flipped him off, then turned to me. “She didn’t look upset when we came in is all I’m saying. We can pretend that we believed the math story if it helps.”

I was pretty sure nothing would help, but I thanked him anyway. They asked if I wanted to lift more, but my body was too revved and exhausted, another weird combo, which was apparently the theme with me today. I knew Lindsay and I had chemistry. I knew that kissing her would be amazing. Yet at the same time, I had no idea.

The other thing I was sure of was that there was no way in hell I could go back to not kissing her and pretending to be nothing more than friends.

…

By the time I pulled into my apartment complex, I could hardly keep my eyes propped open. I’d tried to tell myself that my shitty performance at practice was because I’d pushed too hard on my workout this morning. But I always pushed myself that hard, and it’d never made me suck at practice before.

It was because I couldn’t get a certain editor out of my brain, images from her in that fuchsia dress and our make out session in the gym playing on a loop all day.

Her lips, her soft skin and silky hair, the sexy noises she’d made. She’d felt so damn good pressed against me, and the only thing I could think about was finishing what we’d started.

Knowing her, she’d do everything in her power to avoid me and then, once I forced her out of hiding, give me another speech about not crossing the streams.

I parked my car and pinched the bridge of my nose. As soon as I slept and my brain was working again, I’d come up with a strategy.

So far it went something along the lines of saying fuck it and kissing the hell out of her before she could draw the lines again. At least I’d get to kiss her one more time that way, even if it probably wasn’t the best way to get what I wanted.

I dragged myself and my dead limbs toward my building. Just to prove to myself I could’ve given more at practice—and to try to escape the world for a while longer—I’d headed to the gym and done laps in the pool.

My feet slowed when I saw a shadowed figure. Adrenaline surged, my body preparing for a fight, just in case.

But then I noticed the shadowed figure was tiny. Lindsay’s features came into focus as I neared her, and she straightened as I approached. “I know I must look like some kind of stalker sitting here, but I need to talk to you.”

I held up a hand. “I already know what you’re going to say.”

“You do?”

“You’re going to say that we crossed the streams, and I shouldn’t have brought you into even part of that hockey world, even if it was just the gym. The guys don’t…” They said they’d lie, but evidently I couldn’t. “It’s not like they’d say anything.” I locked eyes with her. “And I know I should probably give you some speech about how I’m sorry for pushing things too far, but you know what? I’m not sorry. I—”

Lindsay wrapped her arms around my waist, tipped on to her toes, and pressed her lips to mine. I gripped her hips, pulling her closer as I took control of the kiss. She touched her tongue to mine and I groaned and backed her up until her ass hit the door.

When she broke the kiss, I blinked at her like a lovestruck idiot in headlights.

“You’re not as scary good at reading me as you thought.” She punctuated the statement with a smile.

“I am a bit tired and delirious from this hot make out session I had this morning. Maybe that’s what’s throwing me off.”

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