Page 38 of Puck Your Bunny

Wally leans down and presses a warm kiss to my forehead. "Pitch that marking theory to his doctors and think it over. We’re here for a lifetime if you’ll have us."

He turns and jogs down the driveway. I watch him climb into his SUV and pull away from the curb.

I step back inside and lock the deadbolt. I walk into the kitchen and sit in the chair next to Brendan. I pull his bowl of yogurt closer.

"They show extreme persistence, Bren." I scoop another bite of the mango blend onto the spoon. "They want to take care of us. They want to learn your routine."

Brendan looks past the spoon. He shifts his hand on the armrest. He uncurls his fingers and grabs my wrist with amassive burst of strength. He locks his clear blue eyes on my face.

"Vay." His raspy voice strains with the effort of forming the words. "Happy."

Tears well up in my eyes and spill over my cheeks. I lean forward and press a kiss to his messy blonde hair.

"I love you, Bren." I rest my forehead against his. "Always."

Chapter 14

The visitor locker room at Heathstead Arena smells like ammonia, old sweat, and fresh floor wax. Cold air blows from the ceiling vents above the painted cinderblock walls. Fluorescent tubes hum overhead, casting a white light on the team. Guys pace the black rubber floor in their base layers. They stretch their hamstrings and tape their sticks. Tape rips from rolls in short, loud bursts.

Settling into my assigned stall in the far corner, I run a fresh strip of white cloth tape along the blade of my stick. The quick routine gives me a second to breathe before grabbing the team-issued tablet from the top shelf. The screen displays game footage from last week.

The Heathstead Bears won the Alpha Cup last year against us. I watched Wes, Logan, Jace, and Ford celebrate on the icewhile hats rained down from the bleachers. That star group of Alphas retired right after the season ended. The league expected the franchise to crumble without their top players. Instead, the Bears bumped their second line up and held strong. They tightened their roster and kept winning.

They still defend the title with a brutal trap-style defense. I tap the screen, rewinding a play from their new top line. Their center parks on the red line. He cuts off the passing lanes and forces our wingers to dump the puck deep into the corner. Their defensemen swoop in, collect the loose puck, and break out the other way.

We need to break through that wall tonight. We need the points to secure our playoff spot. I memorize the timing of their defensive shifts and the spacing between their wings.

My thumb rests over the play button. My mind drifts away from the footage. I stare at the red and black jerseys on the tablet. An image of a fading yellow house on the edge of the city pushes into my thoughts. A trace of lavender and honeysuckle lingers in my nose, cutting through the locker room stench.

Focusing back on the screen, I study the Bears' defensive pairing. I need to keep my head in the game. She is safe at home. She has Brendan, Vinny, and a brand new fence keeping her secure.

Kel sits one stall over. He yanks the laces of his skates tight. The intricate, dark cedar branch tattooed on the side of his neck flexes as he pulls the thick strings. Simon stands next to him, securing his shoulder pads with Velcro straps. His nervous energy radiates across the narrow space between us.

"Keep your head on a swivel tonight." Kel points a taped finger at Simon. "Their defensemen play dirty in the corners. Number forty-two targets the numbers. He likes to ride guys face-first into the glass. Steer clear of the trap."

Simon catches a puck in his glove. "I know how to take a hit, Kel. I plan to skate circles around that oversized goon. He turns like a dump truck. I chip the puck past him, take the inside lane, and leave him eating ice shavings."

"Just watch your back." Kel glares at the rubber floorboards. "We finish this in regulation. We skip overtime. We grab the points, get on the jet, and get the hell out of this city. I want to go home."

"We all want to go home." Simon drops the puck into his gear bag. "I miss the smell of her house. This arena reeks. We win the game, we go back to our Omega."

Their shared focus settles my nerves. We share the same goal. We plan to wrap this road trip up, secure the win, and get back to our mates.

I pull my cell phone out of my pocket. The screen lights up, showing a new text message. I open the thread.

VAYDA:

Bren is settled in for the night. Cali and I have the pre-game show on the TV. Give the Bears hell on the ice.

I stare at the screen. The tension in my neck unwinds. She reached out first. She sent the update on her own. I let out a slow breath, rereading the words on the glowing display.

"She texted." I turn the screen so Kel and Simon can read the message.

Kel drops his skate laces. He leans over to read the glowing words. A genuine smile breaks through his usual scowl. "She has the game on. She is watching us play."

"She's paying attention." Simon grins. "Now we just have to bring home the win."

I type out a quick reply.