Page 24 of Confessions of a Former Puck Bunny

She giggled and twisted her head so their lips met.

This lovefest definitely wasn’t helping my mood. I needed to get out of here and release all this pent-up frustration in the gym. “No worries. Whitney, I still owe you for getting Lindsay there. Even if it ended up being a disaster.”

“I’ve got your back.” She gave me a smile filled with a bit too much pity for my liking, but because of her words, I couldn’t hold it against her.

“You should get Hudson’s back, too,” I said, “because he’s getting kind of pudgy after choosing you over the gym all the time.”

Hudson flipped me off, I laughed, and life was back to the way it was supposed to be, no one feeling sorry for me or looking at me like I was about to blow. I grabbed my bag and decided that I needed to go back to my original goals. Stay away from drama, no getting involved with anyone until next year when my spot was more secure, and maybe even then it was better to avoid the complications relationships brought.

With my crush on Lindsay snuffed out, it was time to do what I did best. Shut out everything and everyone and focus on what was important. Hockey, school, and more hockey.

That oughta keep me nice and warm at night.

Chapter Thirteen

Lindsay

My thoughts kept drifting from the words on my computer screen, my focus totally crap today. Whitney had mentioned that even after I’d left that Ryder had almost gotten into a fight with Brett, and while I’d told myself he was fine at least a hundred times, it didn’t stop me from worrying about him.

Like he needs me. I bet it took all of two seconds for one of those girls who’d been eye-humping him to approach and make it clear she’d actually deliver.

I knew how that went, because I’d swooped in to take advantage of a lonely hockey player before. All the self-loathing I thought I’d ridded myself of came rushing back. For so long I’d told myself I’d felt empowered, that I’d been the one in control, but I’d had morning afters where I beat myself up.

Then I’d wonder what drove me to need that validation from guys so much.

Confession #9:I have daddy issues. I hate that I do, but I’m aware that it factors into how hard I’ve sought out male attention in the past.

I didn’t know my dad, and the only father figures I had were the guys my mom clung on to for years here and there. Very few of them looked at me as more than an inconvenience, and when I got older, one of them looked at me a little too long. That was one time I definitely wanted less male attention.

Fortunately Mom noticed before I had to have that awkward conversation with her, and while I’d felt a bit of resentment from her when we moved out of his house, the important thing was she’d taken action and moved. For me. That was one reason I couldn’t bring myself to begrudge her for how I was raised, even though I didn’t want to live my life like that ever again. The other reasons involved the rough way she grew up, poor with an abusive father. She didn’t talk much about it, but she did what she needed to do to escape a bad situation, and she made sure no guy ever laid a hand on me.

Here’s the thing: everyone has issues of some kind. Contrary to popular belief, plenty of the other puck bunnies had loving fathers who paid attention to them. Some of them could also pull off a mutually beneficial no-strings-attached arrangement. For years I told myself that I could, but eventually I faced the truth that I’d acted my way through or regretted most of them.

But again, nobody gets out of this life without a few issues, and I could choose how I dealt with them.

“Lindsay.”

I jumped at Will’s voice, which was opposite of how I usually reacted to his lilting British accent. I put a hand over my racing heart. “Sorry. I didn’t realize you’d come in.”

“I noticed. I brought you some tea.” He placed a steaming cup in front of me and I wrapped my hands around it. Instead of heading for his computer to mainline his tea, like he often did as soon as he got in, he tilted his head and studied me. “What’s up with you? You’re in a bit of a nark, yeah?”

“Um…?” Since he didn’t always bother pronouncing hisRs, I took a shot at what sounded like naack and guessed he’d said narc. “Last I checked, narcing on people who OD’d on caffeinated substances would mean that everyone in the college—and pretty much everyone everywhere—would be locked up.”

He pinched his bottom lip between his fingers and shook his dirty blond mop of hair out of his eyes. “No, I mean like…grumpy. A bad mood. Worse than usual.”

Normally I liked that he gave it to me straight, but today I wasn’t so sure. “I’m often in a bad mood?”

He nodded, clearly not understanding his words had been a tad on the insulting side. “With all the deadlines and such, I get it. Plus, only a little over two months to go on classes, and I’m knackered all the time, too. But this”—he circled a hand around my face—“looks like there’s more than the usual stress.”

“It’s my math class,” I lied, although since I’d gone and ruined things with the one guy who could help me pass it, there was some truth in there, too. At least I’d done well on the quiz today before the inevitable dive my grades would take without Ryder in my life. “I might fail, and then I’ll be totally screwed.”

Will took off his messenger bag, knocking over my cup of pens in the process and sending them sprawling across my desk. I caught the ones I could as he scrambled to pick up the pens that had rolled off the far side and onto the floor.

Once that mess was picked up, he scooted a chair next to me and looked at me expectantly. After a couple of seconds, he said, “Well. Where’s the math? I’m not going to let you fail or get screwed.”

I bit back a laugh. Honestly, I was starting to think that I’d never get screwed again.

But over the next hour, I realized that the only thing harder to understand than math was math in a British accent from a nice guy who was clearly in over his head. I decided that Iwasquite screwed, and not in the fun way.

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