Page 43 of Puck Your Bunny

Wally steps forward. He guides the fabric off Brendan's shoulders and slides his arms out of the sleeves. Kel drops to one knee on the tile. He strips Brendan's sweatpants and socks off, tossing the clothes into a plastic laundry hamper. Vinny grabs a folded towel from the counter and drapes it over Brendan's lap.

"Alright." Vinny steps back to clear the floor. "Wally, grab his upper body. Kel, grab his legs. Find your footing."

Wally steps behind the wheelchair. He slides his thick arms under Brendan's armpits, reaching forward to lock Brendan's crossed wrists against his chest. Kel moves to the side of the chair. He slides his arms under Brendan's knees, planting his feet wide on the tile.

"Bren, we're going to lift you up." Kel keeps his voice low and calm, staying right in Brendan's line of sight. "Wally and I got you. You're safe."

Brendan blinks twice. He hums.

"Keep your backs straight." Vinny watches them like a hawk. "Lift with your legs."

"On three." Wally locks eyes with Kel over Brendan's shoulder. "One. Two. Three."

They push up in unison. Driving their weight into their heels, they lift Brendan out of the wheelchair in one smooth motion. Moving a grown Alpha takes a ton of muscle, but these two guys make it look effortless.

"Step right." Kel dictates the pace.

They take two side steps on the open tile. They hover Brendan right over the shower chair.

"Setting you down." Wally bends his knees.

They ease Brendan back, lowering him into the center of the padded cushion. Kel adjusts the headrest to support Brendan's neck.

"Wheels are locked." Vinny checks the casters on the shower chair. "You got him centered. Let's get him under the water."

Wally and Kel step back. They let out deep breaths.

"You guys nailed that." I stand in the open doorway. A rush of pride hits my chest. "That was the easiest transfer we ever pulled off."

"Told you we had it." Kel offers a cocky grin, swiping sweat from his forehead.

"We got him." Wally reaches out, giving Brendan's bare shoulder a gentle squeeze. "Let's get you washed up, Bren."

Vinny unlocks the shower chair casters and pushes Brendan into the standing shower. He turns the warm water on and hands a stack of washcloths to Kel. He walks the two Alphas through the exact steps of the bathing routine, explaining how to clean and support him.

I watch them for a moment. They stepped up and proved their dedication to this family. I leave them to the lesson, turningaway from the open doorway to go check on Simon in the kitchen.

The smell of garlic and simmering tomatoes hits my nose. Simon stands at the stove, stirring a large metal pot of marinara sauce. He uses a wooden spoon to fold cooked ground beef into the red liquid.

"Dinner is minutes away." Simon taps the spoon on the edge of the pot. "I scooped Brendan's portion into a smaller pan. I added the thickening powder to his sauce to serve it as a beef and tomato soup. The spaghetti is ready for us."

"It smells amazing." I lean against the kitchen island, watching him work.

An hour passes. The water shuts off down the hall. Wally and Kel roll Brendan out of the bathroom. Damp spots stain the front of their t-shirts from the humidity and the splash back. They step right in to help Vinny with the transfer back to the wheelchair. They move Brendan with practiced ease and steady teamwork. They showed up for him today and proved they belong here.

Vinny walks into the kitchen and checks his phone.

"You guys have the shower routine down." Vinny looks between Wally and Kel, offering an impressed nod. He turns his attention to me. "You have the hang of this. You can handle the shower shifts without me now, outside of your Heat week."

The tension in my shoulders loosens. "Thanks for all your help, Vinny. You belong with this family. We plan to keep you around."

Vinny laughs. "I'm down for family barbecues if you ever want to invite me." He waves and heads out the front door. The latch clicks shut behind him.

We gather around the dining table. Simon sets down plates of spaghetti and meat sauce alongside a basket of toasted sourdough bread. I drag my wooden chair close to Brendan'swheelchair. I grab a rubber-coated spoon and dip it into Brendan's bowl of thick tomato soup. I blow on the hot hot liquid, letting it cool before offering it to him.

We eat and talk. The guys discuss their upcoming home games, breaking down their opponents' defensive lines. I pause my meal to feed Brendan every few minutes, matching his slow swallowing. Good energy fills the house. My chest tightens. It feels like a real family dinner.

The sun dips below the horizon, casting long shadows across the living room floor. After dinner, we watched a movie. Brendan even hummed at a few of the funny parts, and it felt like he was truly there and accepting of what our lives have turned into since I let these three hockey players into it.