Page 84 of Confessions of a Former Puck Bunny

Finally, I couldn’t take it anymore. “You’re kind of killing me here—no bottling up your emotions, remember?”

Ryder slid his hand around my neck, guided my mouth to his, and kissed me so deeply the tension that’d been coursing through me as I waited to hear what he thought melted away.

A huge grin spread across his face. “Boston and paintball matches and hockey and you? That’s a thing that can happen?”

“That’s a thing that can happen,” I said.

“Let’s make it happen, then.” He jumped up, lifting me to my feet along with him. “Hey, guys, you’ll never believe what Lindsay just told me…”

Everyone turned, their plates now stacked with various meats that were sort of indiscernible through the black charred edges.

Ryder wrapped his arm around me. “Lindsay and I are staying in Boston.”

Everyone seemed to be on some type of FCC delayed reaction, freezing for several seconds before giving excited responses that would definitely be bleeped out by the FCC.

“You’re staying?” Megan asked me, and Whitney crowded closer.

I nodded. “I’m staying. Are you guys sure you’ll still want to hang out with an old graduated girl who can’t let go of her glory days?”

Whitney let out a squeal and threw her arms around me. “Are you kidding me? I’m going to be begging for your advice when I’m editing theHeightsnext year.”

“I have no doubt you’ll be an amazing editor, but I’ll happily help.”

Megan crowded in on the hug and then Lyla joined the group, too. Our boys were over doing the guy thing, more fist bumps and macho head nods than hugs. I remembered the days when I thought I wasn’t a hugger.

Now I tightened my grip on my friends, and a lump formed in my throat from holding back the tears I refused to let out.

On my way back to Ryder, I hugged Dane—without him, I had a feeling Ryder and I never would’ve gotten together in the first place, and I couldn’t help but adore him for that, as well as the way he treated Megan. I even loved how he said whatever thought popped in his head instead of thinking it through. I fist-bumped Beck and returned Hudson’s nod.

Then I was back in Ryder’s arms, hugging and kissing him. He dipped me, and the catcalling and whistling that followed sent another wave of happiness through me.

Confession #25:I used to be a puck bunny, and maybe a part of me still was and would always be. After all, I cared way more about the hockey player I was clinging to than the game. So I was going to go ahead and own it, because it got me here, and here was a really good place to be.

So there you have it, all (okay, most) of my confessions and the true account of what happened when I fell head over heels for a hockey player. I used to think that because of who I was, a happy ending was out of my reach. But all the things I’d been called in the past, nice or mean—puck bunny, editor, bitch, friend, slut, girlfriend, intern for a publishing company—didn’t make me more or less of a person. I’d placed too much emphasis on what people thought about me, and I’d beaten myself up for mistakes and lessons that took a few missteps to learn.

The moral of the story is that everyone deserves a special someone who overlooks their past and their flaws and loves them anyway. That’s the true definition of happily ever after. Which, for the record, is how our story ends…

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