Page 31 of The Ex Puck Bunny
Grady says, “If you don’t take my truck, you know your brother is going to torture us both. He values your safety above all.”
This answers my question about Derek’s reaction. He must know that I’m not safe around hockey players who also happen to be his best friends, given the whole thing with Trey. Glad he’s in my corner.
When my hand brushes Grady’s as I take the keys, a little zing rushes through me.
Derek is right. I’m not safe, not when something so insignificant runs the risk of making me melt.
Two hours later,after a decent figure skating private class, I’m back where I started in Derek’s living room. The lights are dim and the television is quiet as he and Grady watch hockey highlights.
Bunny is fast asleep in the bedroom which will someday belong to Derek and Deborah’s offspring. The guy will be a great dad, and I appreciate his help. I wish I was exhausted, but I made the mistake of having a hot co-spresso—hot cocoa with a shot of espresso—at the rink and am wired. I start cleaning up in the kitchen where I find carrot peels, evidence that mom must’ve come over and made him a carrot cake. Dad loves the stuff as much as I do jelly beans. ’Tis the Easter season.
Derek calls, “Heidi, come sit down.”
“Says the guy who tricked Mom into making me do the dishes on his night.”
“I didn’t trick you, I merely greased the wheels of seniority.”
I roll my eyes and finish up. When I go to the living room to say goodbye before getting Bunny from the bedroom, both guys hover over Grady’s phone.
He stabs the screen with his finger. “Cara said my schedule is in here.”
I say, “You look lost.”
“I will be if I don’t find out my workout or training time for tomorrow.” He rubs his eyes.
Derek says, “He can’t get the app to work.”
“Maybe you should’ve thought of this before nine p.m. the night before.”
“He needs help,” Derek says.
“Yes, I’m aware.” The sarcasm isn’t lost on them and they both look up at me.
“Can you try to get into the app, please?” Derek asks.
I grab the phone from Grady and the same zing rushes through me when our hands touch as when I took his keys. A flurry of energy runs through me. It’s probably some kind of electrical current from the device.
I tap it a few times and then face it toward him to set a new password.
“I’ll never remember it.”
Derek says, “Use Derek is the GOAT. That, you’ll remember.”
“The greatest of all time? Not quite,” Grady says, taking the device and typing in a password.
The guys banter for a few minutes.
I say, “Is my work here done?”
Face illuminated by his phone’s screen, Grady bites his lip. “Actually, there’s a box I can’t get rid of.”
“A box you can’t get rid of?” I say like I’m speaking to a toddler who’s playing make-believe.
He shows me the phone and indeed there is a red box with new user information blocking him from seeing the schedule and info behind it. “Did you tap it?”
“Yeah, and it just brings me to the social media stuff.”
Echoing his comment from earlier, I say, “I find it hard to believe the Knights don’t have a social media manager.”
