Page 52 of Confessions of a Former Puck Bunny

She looked down at her clothes. “I managed to get pancake mix on me, but I guess it just goes with all the paint.”

The paint was dried, and after double-checking it wouldn’t leave marks, we settled on the couch to eat.

“So you love breakfast for dinner,” I said. “What about favorite overall food?”

She pursed her lips and looked to the ceiling, like the answer would be there. “I’d have to go with my mom’s enchiladas. Through the years, regardless of the many moves and different family dynamics, there were those nights in the kitchen making dinner with her. None of her boyfriends could handle the hot ones, so she’d always have to make two pans. One for us, and one for him. And his children if he had any, although most of them didn’t.”

“Sounds like you moved around a lot.”

“Oh, yeah. Mom didn’t go long between boyfriends, either, so while we had the occasional apartment here and there—sometimes even paid for by said boyfriends—I was forever living in bland, generic guest bedrooms.” Her fork scraped her plate, her eyes focused on the trails it made through the syrup.

“That sucks.”

“It wasn’t so bad. I felt invisible sometimes, but I lived in a lot of nice places.”

I set my empty plate on the coffee table and scooted closer to her. “Funny enough, sometimes I wished to be invisible growing up. Dad would see me and tell me I should be practicing or lifting, and Mom would see me and tell me to straighten up, or that my clothes looked sloppy. Or she’d remind me of some event like the one I made you go to with me—having you there made it so much better, by the way.”

Lindsay placed her hand over mine. “I’m glad. I guess that everyone has crap to deal with, no matter what their home life was like. I used to wish Mom would just marry one of the guys so we could settle down and put some roots down. I think she would’ve with a few, too, but they never seemed to ask.”

“Well, I had a so-called steady home, but behind closed doors, there was a lot of fighting. Then my dad…” I cleared my throat. I didn’t mean to go this deep, but it seemed too late to backtrack now, and I found I didn’t want to. I’d never really talked to anyone about it before. I never really talked to anyone about much of anything before. “My mom had suspected him of cheating on her when he was out on the road before—they constantly fought about it. I guess he’d had an affair right before I was born, but he swore he’d never cheat again. But then she found proof of another woman when I was ten or so, and the shit hit the fan. It was like a war zone, and I felt like their pawn. It was a relief when they finally got divorced.”

“I guess I’m lucky that I never had to deal with that. Although the end of every one of her relationships felt a bit like that—not that anyone was fighting over me, but she’d take a month or so to wallow, and then she’d go after the next guy.” Lindsay flinched. “She’s better than I’m making her out to be. She’s not perfect, obviously, but after watching her go through that again and again, I swore I’d never rely on a guy for anything. I also swore to never fall in love.”

Pieces clicked into place, the way she kept pushing me away in the beginning. Her hesitation to cross worlds, as she put it. I wasn’t sure how her past with the hockey team factored into that, but I was smart enough not to bring it up.

I laced my fingers with hers. “I get not wanting to rely on other people for everything, but it’s okay for some things.” I locked eyes with her. “You can rely on me. I’m here, Lindsay. I…care about you.”

“I care about you, too, but I don’t think getting used to relying on you is a good idea. This semester will be over before we know it, and then we’ll go our different ways.”

“But trying to get through life all alone isn’t a good idea, either. I was trying it before you came along. Sure, I have the team, and those guys are like my brothers, but this thing with you…” I brought our joined hands to my chest and rubbed my thumb over her knuckles. “It’s the first time I don’t remember feeling lonely in a long time.”

Tears bordered her eyes and she pressed her lips together. “Ryder…I’m afraid we’re going to both end up hurt.”

“Don’t worry about me, I’m tougher than I look,” I said, and she choked out a laugh.

“Then you must be fucking invincible.”

Warmth flooded my chest. I loved that she saw me that way. With her, I felt fucking invincible, which was probably why I foolishly thought somehow everything would be okay, even though I knew it wasn’t a logical conclusion.

I cupped her cheek. “I don’t have all the answers, but like I’ve told you before, I go after what I want. And in case I haven’t made it clear, Lindsay Rivera, that’s you.” Since I figured showing her exactly how I felt about her would be more powerful, I slid my hand around the back of her head, twisting my fingers through her silky hair and capturing her lips with mine.

Then I put everything I was feeling into the kiss, hoping that she would finally understand I wasn’t going to give up on us without a fight.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Lindsay

Kisses from Ryder were a little too effective at eradicating common sense.

What was that saying? Better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all.

Right now, in Ryder’s arms, I wondered if it was true. I’d always considered love a weakness, and my past brush with it certainly left me with enough issues to make it seem like a true theory.

But during this past month with Ryder, I didn’t feel weak. I felt stronger. I cared more intensely for him than I’d cared for any other guy, which made me doubt there’d been actual love with anyone else in the first place.

He and I had something deeper, and that sent a turbulent mix of longing and fear through me. My heart tugged and squeezed and generally didn’t know how to deal with the rush of emotions.

I pulled back before we reached the point of no return—no return being naked in this instance.

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