Page 36 of Confessions of a Former Puck Bunny

“Yes, well, you can slip on a dress and put on a good act, but I’ve seen girls like you before. I dealt with them back when I was married to Ryder’s father. I see through the act. We both know what kind of girl you are.”

“I assure you, I’m not putting on an act. And you have no idea what kind of girl I am.” I tugged my arm, but Sharon only tightened her grip. She was careful to hold it between us, where it’d be blocked from passersby.

“I won’t let my son end up like his father. You’ve gotother womanwritten all over you. You might amuse him now, but in the end, he won’t settle for you, and I think you know it.”

I jerked my arm free and took a step away from her, bumping into the person behind me. I muttered a quick apology, and spun around. I saw Ryder looking at us, his eyebrows drawn together, but my feet refused to move toward him. I wasn’t going to run and tattle. I wanted to pretend it was because I was above it, but deep down I worried Sharon was right.

No one had ever wanted to keep me around for long—my own mother had viewed me as a nuisance half the time—so why would it be different with Ryder?

He was the son of a former NHL player and a mayor. He was smart and driven and going places.

I was me, a messy work in progress who’d made enough mistakes to know just how flawed I was. Hockey was his world, and even though he clearly didn’t enjoy it, so was this. Suddenly I did feel like I was putting on an act just by being here.

Ryder would never settle for a girl like me, and falling harder for him would only leave me hurt and more jaded in the end.

And I was already jaded enough, thank you very much.

Chapter Twenty

Ryder

I’d tried to give Lindsay her space because I knew what happened when she felt crowded, but something didn’t look right when she changed directions and bolted for the nearest exit. I excused myself and followed after her.

She stood off to the side, arms wrapped around herself. Every day the temperature was getting a little warmer, but with the sun down, it was way too cold to be outside in a dress like the one she had on. Not that I was complaining, because it was a shame to cover any of her, but I could tell she was freezing.

I shrugged out of my suit coat and offered it to her. At first she tried to refuse it, so I draped it over her shoulders, wrapped it around her, and then used the sleeves to tug her closer. “You okay?”

She nodded and gave me a watered-down version of her usual smile. “Just needed some air.”

“Did my mom say something?” I guess the better question was what did she say. I’d seen her talking to Lindsay right before her entire demeanor changed, and while Mom would be glad to have information Dad didn’t about my life, I should’ve realized she’d dislike Lindsay strictly because she didn’t get to choose her. “If she did, you should know it’s not you. She just wants to be the one to control who I date.” Dad got to control how I practiced and my career, so I’m sure Mom thought it was a fair arrangement, but I was sick of feeling like the rope in a tug-of-war.

“She introduced me to Andrea Green, which was really nice of her.”

I had a feeling there was more to the story, but since Lindsay clearly wanted to sidetrack the conversation, I decided to let her. For now. “How’d that go?”

Her smile turned genuine. “Awesome. She writes these amazing articles, so we talked about that some, and when I confessed that I my true dream career would be editing fiction, she told me she’d poke around and see if she could find any openings. She warned me that I might have to complete another internship, or settle for a really low salary, and the lack of pay while living in such an expensive city honestly terrifies me a little, but she also advised me to follow my passion. She said life’s too short to do otherwise.”

“I agree with her.”

Lindsay pursed her lips together.

I pulled her closer, so that her chest bumped against mine. “I know what you’re thinking.”

“I doubt it.”

“You’re thinking that that’s easy for me to say, because I don’t have to worry about money like you do,” I said. A slightly guilty expression flickered across her face.Bingo.“Admit it. I was right. I’m getting scary good at reading you.”

“Scary good,” she agreed, but she didn’t sound happy about it. “Okay, so maybe that did cross my mind for half a second. Which isn’t fair. I know how hard you’ve worked to get to where you are.”

Most people saw the money and semi-fame and their first thought was that I was lucky. I couldn’t argue—I didn’t want to be like the schmuck at the table who bragged about his boat and his cushy job he was obviously overpaid for when there were so many people who barely scraped by. But all my life it felt like if I didn’t toe the line, I’d get left behind. No going to Dad’s hockey practices or games, which I’d loved as a kid, and Mom would leave me behind with the nanny, who never let me have friends over. I wasn’t sure why being left terrified me so much when I was little, but I learned the more silent, the less I moved, the more my parents tolerated me.

Unless it came to the ice, then Dad would chew my ass if I didn’t move the way he wanted me to. If I wasn’t focusing on every aspect of the game. If I seemed too smug or too pissed about a play or a call, or a win or a loss.

Ever since the affair and the subsequent divorce, I’d been the pawn, the fill-in for Mom when she needed to look family oriented without a husband, and the star athlete Dad wanted to keep his legacy going. When they needed to rant about each other, I was there, and the less I said, the sooner it ended, even though I still always felt like I ended up betraying someone, even when I didn’t say a word.

So yes I was lucky, but it was a lot of fucking work falling in line at all times, and the only time I felt truly free to let go was with this stunning creature who was pressed against me, warming up my chest in more ways than one.

I wanted to get back to where we were earlier, before we were interrupted and when kissing seemed inevitable. Now we were almost as close, but she’d put up a wall and she was determinedly keeping her chin straight. Something had changed, and I was certain I could pinpoint the cause. “What did my mom say to you?”

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