Page 50 of Revenge Puck

“I work for the team, Blaire,” I insist. “This is against their policy.”

“Andheworks for yourlibido,Juliette.”

I scrub mascara off one eye, then the other. My reflection looks flushed. Unhinged. Like someone who spent the evening with the man who could ruin her life in three different departments at work.

“He called me kind,” I tell her. “As if it were a sexy personality trait. Like…it was acompliment.And he fed me ice cream.”

Blaire’s smile is a teasing one. “Ohhh no. Oh shit.”

“What?”

“That’s the voice,” she says. “That’s theI think I’m falling in love with himvoice.”

“I am not falling in love with him! Jeez, you cannot fall in love with a man you just met.”

My best friend scoffs. “Uh, agree to disagree. People fall in love at first sight and besides, he’s already seen you half-naked. Admit it, you’re hot and bothered.”

“Because I haven’t had sex in months!” Not that I’m desperate. “Honestly though, his voice alone could make me orgasm.”

“You’ve mentioned as much.” She rolls her eyes again. “Name one man on that hockey team whose voice couldn’t—your brother’s for example.”

“My brother’s voice is not orgasmic, and I’d love it if you wouldn’t imply that it was.”

Blaire shrugs. “The fact that I disdain him because I personally don’t trust him is neither here nor there.” She pauses. “In fact, can any of these guys be trusted? I mean, you’ve seen with your own eyes all the women that throw themselves at these dudes.”

Puck bunnies migrate to the stadium as if it were a pilgrimage, all in the hopes of catching a player’s attention and becoming a WAG.

“Aaron is not Declan,” I maintain. “At all.”

Blaire snorts. “Please, anyone is a better boyfriend than your brother. He’s such a bag of crap—no offense. He’s your brother, I get it. I was literally there the night he introduced two different girls as ‘my girlfriend’ to two different groups of people and kept them on different sides of the bar.”

That memory has me cringing.

Yeah, he did do that.

“He’s tall and ridiculously good-looking, and that mustache during No Shave November?” Blaire blows out a puff of air. “That’s what he brings to the table.”

“Blaire…”

She changes the subject as my frown deepens. “Okay, new topic. Did Aaron at least get your phone number at the end of the date?”

I nod and bite my lip. “But he’s not going to text me.”

“Why not?”

“Because,” I say bashfully. “I googled him.”

“So?”

“So…I saw what his last girlfriend looks like. She has big, blonde hair, incredible boobs, and a tiny waist, and I can confidently say I am probably not that man’s type.”

Blaire waves a dismissive hand. “You don’t know what his type is.”

“I know what hisexlooks like.”

“Sometimes a man’s type of woman is ‘alive and breathing.’”

I crack a reluctant smile.