Page 33 of Confessions of a Former Puck Bunny

“I’d rather she come along,” Ryder said, his arm remaining firmly around my waist. “She might as well meet everyone, too.”

Sharon looked like she wanted to argue, but instead her smile turned sharper. “Of course. That’s fine.”

It quickly became clear that had Ryder been unaccompanied, both his mom and the freaking first lady of Connecticut were hoping to throw the governor’s daughter at him. Caroline Cunningham didn’t match him at all. For one, she was way too demure. And timid. Ryder needed someone who’d speak her mind.

Someone like me.

Except for not actually me, of course.The stab of jealousy that poked at me called bullshit. The other women in the near vicinity who were ogling him only sent more of the toxic emotion pumping through me. I wanted to wrap myself around Ryder and show everyone he was mine, the same as I’d wanted to do at the Quad.

What else I noticed throughout the conversation was how quiet Ryder was. He didn’t say much besides “nice to meet you,” and “this is Lindsay” as we met several more people. My editor position at the paper came up, and at least that helped create a few questions that I knew how to answer without totally feeling out of my league.

During the dinner, as we were being served course after course, he was back to the stoic, quiet guy I first met. Only this was a step further—almost robotic, really, with a rehearsed script.

Occasionally, he’d flash me the tiniest of smiles or squeeze my hand, but I missed the guy who made unexpected jokes and gave as good as he got. I understood why he’d go quiet and emotionless at events like this. The conversation topics were total snoozefests.

A guy who couldn’t have been much older than I was went on and on about how important he was in his company. To hear him tell it, they couldn’t function without him, and that’s how you paid for a boat that you hardly had time to take out. Was he right, or was he right? Insert condescending, embarrassment-of-riches chuckle here.

I leaned in to Ryder and whispered, “You could take him. Get him on the ice and slam him against the boards a couple of times. I bet that would cut the bragging short.”

The corner of Ryder’s mouth lifted. “I’ve actually been imagining doing just that for the past ten minutes.” His eyes held a challenging glint when they met mine. “You know, if you were willing to break your rule about mixing worlds and crossing streams, you could watch.”

“One, that guy would pee himself if you put him on the ice, and two, last time the worlds mixed, it didn’t go so well. I just can’t do it.” I’d tried to keep it light and joking, but my voice cracked on that last sentence.

Ryder curled his hand around my knee. “I understand.”

“You guys seem chatty,” Sharon broke in, giving us that same plastic smile she’d been wearing all night. “I’m assuming that with your job at the paper, and Ryder’s spot on the hockey team, it’s hard to keep up with your college courses.”

“It can be,” I said. “Luckily, I have a good math tutor to help me out.” I winked at Ryder, happiness tumbling through me when he broke into his first full smile of the night.

“I’m surprised Ryder has time for that with hockey. Apparently he doesn’t have time for haircuts anymore, either.”

The smile fell from Ryder’s face and irritation bubbled up inside me. Did she like keeping him quiet, her trophy child that she could show off to make her look better? I reached up and ran my hand through his hair. “I like it on the longer side. It’s sexy.”

Someone cleared their throat, as if saying the wordsexywas going too far. Or maybe it was the way my body bumped into Ryder’s as I dragged my fingernails across his scalp and ran my hand down his freshly shaven cheek. Either way, I didn’t care. There was some benefit to not belonging somewhere.

Ryder brought my hand to his lips and kissed my open palm. Butterflies erupted, and they fluttered even more when he folded my hand into his and set our joined hands in his lap.

The urge to push things to the inappropriate level called to me, but I didn’t want to give Ryder the wrong idea just to shock some life into this party and these people who talked about money like it was a burden. I’d love some of that burden to float my way.

In an effort to play nice, I turned to the rest of the table and forced myself to say something complimentary about the event. “The food’s amazing, by the way. And this table setting is simply gorgeous.” I wasn’t sure what else to say about a political fundraiser, but it got everyone talking again and the attention off Ryder.

As the topics bounced around, each one as boring as the next, I leaned my head on Ryder’s shoulder.

He curled me closer and then it didn’t matter what anyone was talking about. The way he peered down at me and the fact that he was smiling, a more carefree vibe now in place, was all the victory I needed.

Chapter Eighteen

Ryder

I’d spent the first half of the event thinking I made a mistake bringing Lindsay. Not because I didn’t enjoy being around her, andholy shit, that dress made it hard to keep my thoughts out of the pants she didn’t have on.

But these fundraising events were as horrible as I remembered—with mom’s reelection up this year this was only the beginning, too—and I didn’t want Lindsay to associate me with anything so boring. Once she’d made the joke about slamming the guys into the boards, my worries melted away.

I was used to my mother complaining about my “too-long hair,” but if it meant Lindsay was going to run her fingers through it and call it sexy, I was never cutting it again.

I wrapped my arm tighter around her and ran my fingertips over her smooth skin. Her gaze met mine, and man I wanted to kiss her. Just ignore the fact that we were in public and devour that tempting mouth until we were both gasping for air. Her hand rested on my thigh and when she shifted, it moved an inch higher, and then I was having to think of hockey plays just to keep from sporting a hard-on.Thathad definitely never happened at one of these fundraisers before.

Finally dinner officially ended and people stood to mingle. Just a quick chat with Mom then I could make my excuse and take Lindsay somewhere else, where we could talk and laugh—and if I had my way—touch more of that silky skin and follow through on my idea to kiss her breathless.

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