Page 40 of The Ex Puck Bunny
“After playing with Grady at the park, who matches her energy in his ability to run around for what felt like hours, she’ll be exhausted later,” I tell them.
“It’s bubble bath night,” my mom says, who also has a childlike fascination with bubbles.
I guess some things never get old.
Mom says, “And if I remember correctly, it’s karaoke night at the Fish Bowl. You should sing ABBA’s ‘Take a Chance On Me.’”
My parents harmonize for the chorus. It was their wedding song because Dad poached a line from it to ask her out, not realizing that she’d recognize the lyrics and call him out. But now they sing it together all the time and it’s pretty sweet.
Bunny tries belting it out with them even though she doesn’t know the words.
“Ooh. Dance party!” Mom adds, bopping with Bunny.
Where do these people get this energy? Derek used to callme the Bratty Energizer Bunny, but now I can hardly keep up. Then I look at my little girl and realize we’re all powered by love for her.
I grunt. Well, not Grady. Hockey players are incapable of loving.
Bunny copies me like she’d done when Derek made that sound, though hers is more like a snort and we all start making piggy noises. Soon we’re laughing and I feel lighter.
Dad says, “Go on. Have some fun tonight.”
“It’s work, Dad.”
“Who said that can’t be fun?”
This brings to mind the social media management role that I used to have. In all honesty, that job was a blast.
I could help Grady out, dip my toes back in the water, and be able to add it to my resume if I want to return to that field later. If it doesn’t work out, Uncle Stan is always looking for help at the Fish Bowl. The turnover is high because not everyone can handle the rowdy hockey crowd.
Thankfully, I can.
But not Grady. Not when all I think about on the drive over to the pub are the two times we kissed. The first time was like a test. The second one started with deep desire and unmet longing, then turned wild.
And wouldn’t you know, no sooner do I don my apron, he and some other Knights sit down at a table by the pinball machines.
It’s just my luck that I get their table. Aleeyah only works days, and it’s a different group of servers tonight.
After giving them the Fish Bowl spiel about corn and potatoes, I take their drink orders. When I reach Grady, his lips quirk.
Time stops because all I can focus on is how he kissed me—like how gentle he was with his hands on my skin, the sound ofhis inhales and exhales, and his lips on mine. My surroundings fade. My thoughts recede. It’s just us in the driveway, in the rain, in the cool spring night.
My skin flushes as his gaze climbs from my lips to my eyes.
He stutters, “Uh, I’ll have a?—”
But I don’t hear it because the activity in the dining room comes back to full volume.
The guys at the table are quiet as I stand there awkwardly before snapping to.
“Soda,” he stammers at the same time as I mumble, “Um, can I get you anything to start?”
They’re gracious and thank me. But as I walk away, there are snickers and what’s sure to be a bit of elbowing in Grady’s direction.
Yeah, yeah, yeah. Maybe the waitress at the Fish Bowl has a crush on him. That’s the problem with living in Hockey Town. You can’t walk a yard without bumping into someone with the hots for a hockey player.
This would be way better if I weren’t distracted by something in my pant leg just above my knee. I’m guessing it got stuck there in the laundry, but it’s busy and I don’t have a chance to check if it’s a sock or worse, a pair of underwear.
What’s with the wardrobe malfunctions when Grady is here?
