Page 53 of Pucking Sweet

“Do you wanna die alone?”

I go still as stone. Oh, she did not just go there. Slowly, I lift my gaze to glare at her.

She raises a pierced brow. “Too soon?”

I just shake my head. “You’re a real bitch, you know that?”

She grins. It flexes her cheek piercings, making the little diamonds glint in the strobe lights. “Just think of me as your shoulder devil. Now, drink the shot, Poppy.”

Something new is buzzing in my chest. Oh god, is this excitement? Am I really doing this? No, this is crazy. I amnothaving sex with a stranger tonight. Period.

Oh, yes, I am.

Tina’s right. It’s time to move on for real. I’m done living in the past. I’m done hiding and being scared. “Fuck it.” I snatch up the shot glass.

“Down the hatch!”

I shoot the tequila, slapping the glass down with a gasp. “Ooh, it burns!” I slide the glass over to her. “I’m doing this.”

“You’re doinghim.” She points over my shoulder.

I turn around to see a pretty blond guy chatting nearby with a few friends. He has a millennial feel, like he may be corporate level, but at a firm where they believe in “open walls” and “fostering a hive mind.” He’s not really my type, but does that matter for a one-night stand? He’s pretty and he’s here and, if he’s willing, for one night only I’m saying yes.

Screw it. I am sayinghellyes.

I swivel back around, nervous excitement surging through me. Grinning at Tina, I slide my clutch across the bar. “Hold my purse,” I shout.

“Go get ’em, tiger!”

Hopping off the barstool, I quickly adjust my dress, checking to make sure everything is where it should be. God, I haven’t approached a man like this since college. Do I even remember what to do? I flick my hair behind me and roll my shoulders. No thinking. No second-guessing. Tonight, I’m just doing.

I turn for one last nod of approval from Tina. “Right, I’m gonna go get my body slammed.”

She cackles as I turn away. “That’s my girl. Go knock his socks off. And don’t forget to use a condom!”

19

Oh shit. We should bring Doc Price out to the club with us every night. I’m sitting in our VIP booth next to Morrow, watching as Doc climbs into Sanford’s lap and starts telling off some blonde bunny-looking chick. This girl is not having it, and the mood is fucking tense.

“What am I watching?” Morrow asks.

On his other side, Sully says, “That’s Sanford’s ex. She’s a total ring-chaser. Dumped Sanny the minute he got his injury. I think she’s up here trolling.”

“Batten down those hatches, boys,” J-Lo warns from across the table.

We all shift uncomfortably. Karlsson goes so far as to cover his drink with his hand, holding it in close to his chest.

Listen, we don’t mind the bunnies. In fact, they can be a ton of fun. Some of my best times after a game have been spent laughing and joking around with the puck bunnies. But there are puck bunnies looking for a good time, and then there are the predator bunnies. It happens across all professional sports. We’re talking full Monty Python, go-for-the-jugular type bunnies.

Yeah, I said it. Women can prey on men too—especially some of these teenage rookies cashing big fat NHL checks who still don’t know their asses from their elbows. These bunnies will pick your pocket for your room key. They’ll follow you to the bathroom. They’ll find your favorite coffee shop and camp out. It’s exceptionally rare, but it happens.

And it only needs to happen once for a player to learn to take it seriously. I’ve had a couple stalkers in the past. I even had a woman corner me at my car, trying to get inside. One morereason I prefer no names, no numbers, and no repeats. You can’t get attached with a one-and-done. Call me crass, but safety first.

The blonde has her arms crossed, glaring down at Rachel still sitting in Sanny’s lap. “Whose girlfriend is she really, Cay?” she says loud enough for us all to hear. “Compton’s? Novy’s? It’s sweet of them to loan her out to you so you don’t have to look pathetic in front of your ex. But really, honey, I got that message a long time ago!”

Rachel is still as stone in Sanny’s lap. Oh shit, it’s like the moment of calm before a lightning strike. I can just barely see the side of her face as she smiles. “What was your name again? Apple?”

“Aspen—”