Page 59 of Confessions of a Former Puck Bunny

A loud throat clearing cut through the haze and I knew Dad had made his way over.

“Thank you, baby,” I whispered in Lindsay’s ear, and then I slowly lowered her to her feet, placing myself a step in front of her so she wouldn’t have to deal with my father’s judgment head-on. “Dad.”

“Son.” He crossed his arms and his gaze flicked to Lindsay.

Awkwardness crowded the space. After an eternity, which was probably actually only a few seconds, Lindsay extended her hand. “Hi, I’m Lindsay. Ryder’s—”

“Friend,” I cut in. Her face fell and I internally kicked my own ass for being too weak. But I was also protecting her. She had no idea how harsh he would be.

“Right. I’m Ox’s friend,” Lindsay said, and I hated how flat and cold her voice went, not to mention the way she’d called me Ox, like way back in the beginning when we were distant acquaintances. “I just got a little carried away, because I was so excited they won.”

“I could tell,” Dad said. Because he couldn’t just not be a prick.

“Well, I guess I should go congratulate the rest of the team.” Lindsay looked at me, hurt flickering through her eyes. “I’ll try to keep my lips to myself, but no promises. You know how I get when I’m excited.”

I reached for her but she dodged and pushed through the crowd.Damn it.I turned back to Dad. “Why do you have to be like that?”

“Me? I’m not the one who called her afriend—rookie mistake,” he said with a shake of his head. “You’re out of your league, son. I saw you smiling up at her in the stands. You let yourself get distracted and started playing like shit.”

“Maybe you just need to accept the fact that I always play like shit, and I’ll never be as good as you were. As usual, your pep talks are inspiring. So glad you could make it.”

He stepped closer and jabbed a finger to my chest. “Watch your mouth. I know you think I’m being harsh, but I’m trying to keep you from making the same mistakes I did.”

For a moment, I almost reverted to old habits, simply submitting to whatever he said and nodding for the sake of cutting off an argument. But I didn’t work this hard to be with Lindsay to fuck it all up and be my dad’s puppet—especially not after everything he’d put our family through over the years. “I don’t have a wife to cheat on, so that means I’m allowed to be with whoever I want. So see, not making your mistakes at all.”

The muscles along his jaw tightened. “You’re making them before you even have a career, which is only going to guarantee you never have one. Have your fun, but you’re going to meet hundreds of girls over the next few years. You need to look at the big picture.”

“For once, I am.” I started away and Dad caught my arm, his fingers digging in deep.

“Let go,” I ground out between clenched teeth.

A handful of people looked our way and he loosened his grip. “You need to know something about that girl. I—”

“Not interested,” I said, and then I charged through the mass of bodies, hoping I could catch her and fix it before she decided I wasn’t worth the trouble.

…

By the time I pushed into Howl at the Moon, the hits I’d received and given on the ice were taking effect. Every muscle in my body ached and my limbs felt like they weighed a thousand pounds. Yet that still didn’t compare to the ache in my chest, where a hollow pit had formed, growing bigger every time I thought about Lindsay.

I barely resisted the urge to shove people out of my way, exercising epic restraint as I wove through the crowd. The plan was to come here to celebrate. Instead, Lindsay left the arena without me. She wouldn’t answer her phone, and the only information I could gather from asking around was that they “thought she left with Megan and Dane.”

I texted Dane.

Me:You here?

Dane:If by here you mean Howl at the Moon, yeah.

Me:Is Lindsay with you?

Dane:Bro, she’s pretty pissed, and she’s been downing shots. You might want to give her space.

Me:Where are you?

He answered that they were at the bar, and I changed direction and pushed my way over to the long, polished, wood counter. Lindsay was perched on one of the high stools, and the male bartender was leaned over, flirting with her as he poured a shot.

Oh, hell no.

I took two large strides, eating up the space as quickly as possible. I certainly understood why every guy who came into her radius hit on her, but it didn’t mean I had to like it, and I really fucking didn’t.

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