Page 69 of The Ex Puck Bunny
“We make a good team when I thought I’d always be alone,” I say with a pout. “I even recall saying I’d never date a hockey player.”
“Or your brother’s best friend.”
“It’s true. Trey hurt me so badly, I would do anything never to experience that again, including close myself off from love.”
And I know without a doubt, that’s what this is.
I rest my fingers on his jaw. “I was wrong. So wrong. But I am right about one thing. Us.”
“Funny you should say that and good thing you’re here because there’s something I’ve been wanting to tell you.”
I lift my eyes to his.
“I love you, Heidi.”
My smile widens. “I love you?—”
Before I can add the wordtoo, his lips are on mine and we melt into another kiss.
It’sthe Saturday night before Easter. The girls were game to put together a short program during the intermission of the final match against the Lions. It’s fittingly festive, yet daunting on such short notice. I also rallied a few other volunteers from my pool of figure skating students.
The performance includes plenty of skater bunny hops. We’re even able to pull together white leotards with light pink accents and tightly ruched tutus that remind me of a bunny’s cotton tail.
My parents and Bunny are in the VIP suite with other friends and family members of the team. Meg adjusts Whit’s bunny ears.
“I cannot believe you talked me into this,” Whit says.
We knew each other in high school and I was not nice to her, but she assured me we’re grown up now and even brought me a pair of Easter-themed cookies from her food truck for us to share after practice. We talked for a bit aboutmomagingwhile married to hockey players . . . not that I’m thinking about marriage. Much.
I feel like I owe her and hope to make it up somehow . . . maybe in a way that doesn’t involve making her wear a skintight costume.
“Blue is going to love it,” Harlow says, referring to Whit’s daughter.
Meg strikes a pose, “Look at us moms, showing the kids how it’s done.”
We gather around for a few photos. I film a little behind-the-scenes footage to edit later because we’re all looking glam in stage makeup and adorable with the bunny ears. It’s a different look from the Lions, but I love it—and the Knights.
Dad has been joking that I’ve turned into a superfan whichonly helps his case because he loves that our whole family can now enjoy his favorite pastime.
Cara leads us in a prayer just like the guys do before they take to the ice.
I let out a breath and we exit the tunnel to a remix of a Carrie Underwood song with a medley of “Peter Cotton Tail” tossed in for fun. Pastel laser lights splash the ice.
The arena goes quiet for half of a second, apparently not expecting this interlude to their rough and tough game.
We shake our pom poms in time with the music. Everyone nails their bunny hops—for a few of us, it’s been a while.
The program is part family-friendly puck bunny spectacular—emphasis on the bunny bit—part hype girl enthusiasm and pure entertainment.
The crowd goes bananas and throws jellybeans after we take our bow with a cute little tail shake at the end.
Nolan, the Zamboni driver, wears the Easter bunny costume while resurfacing the ice.
It’s a lot of fun and I’m exhilarated, back in my element, when I meet my family in the VIP suite and watch the rest of the game. I’d love to see Grady out there, but the coach still has Ted in, which makes sense since this is his last season.
The Knights win, just barely, with a three-two score.
The next day, after church, we all pile into my parents’ minivan on our way to brunch at the Lemons’ house. Dad laments not doing the Easter egg hunt. Mom suspects Karen from the Cobbiton Activities Commission diverted funding elsewhere. Her scowl when the topic comes up suggests she suspects foul play.
