Page 110 of The Puck Bunny

“I get that his mother is pressuring him, but what are you talking about regarding work?”

“He thinks if we’re engaged, we won’t have to worry so much about the non-frat policy. But mostly, I think the engagement is to please his family. His mother and brother have wanted him to stop being a playboy and settle down, so the engagement will appease them.”

“Plus, it gets Princess Anica off his back,” Billie Mae throws in. “The jerk is using you.”

I laugh.

“It’s not funny, Sara.”

“He’s not using me. I went along with the whole thing and… he cares about me.”

She gives me a skeptical frown. “I suppose he wouldn’t have bought you such a ridiculous rock if he didn’t care somewhat.”

“Still,” I say, “even if it’s true that he wanted to get engaged for all the wrong reasons, I still feel that connection between us, still trust him enough to share things.” And he trusts me enough to take me to his father’s grave. But I keep that to myself. It’s too private, too intimate to tell anyone else.

“What does that mean?” she asks. “Is he the one? I mean, the real one, not just some hot hockey crush.”

“How did you know Bobby was the one?” I ask.

“Easy. My heart nearly explodes I my chest every time I see him. And not just because he’s a hunk—sorry, I know he’s your brother, but that’s the reality. He’s so much more. He’s decent and strong and has that alpha streak I can’t resist.”

I wave a hand. “Half the guys on the Brawlers would meet that description. What makes Bobby the one?”

“He gets me, honey. He’s there for me, knows what I’m thinking, and I know what he’s thinking, how he feels. And he’s wicked nice to me.”

“I’m sorry, did you just use the word wicked in a sentence?” I laugh and so does she. She always swore she’d never say wicked no matter how long she lived in Boston.

“It’s Bobby’s influence.” She sighs the way a girl in love does—long and happy.

“I think I know how you feel,” I confess. I understand about the connection, and the understanding. “Quinn is thoughtful and kind, truly kind. Look at what he did for Jonas.”

“That was a spectacular success story. You both rock for accomplishing that bit of matchmaking. When you told me the story, I kept thinking it would be unbelievable if I hadn’t seen those puck bunnies dressed in pink Brawlers jerseys myself.”

We laugh and I tuck my feet up under me as I sink into her couch. “And this couch,” I say.

“What do you mean?” she says.

“That night I came here with Quinn.”

She squeals and slaps her hands over her eyes. “Please don’t make me remember that night I found you two here naked.”

I laugh. “But he did cover me with the blanket.”

“He did. I noticed that.” She rolls her eyes. “Maybe he is a decent guy.”

We fall quiet for a moment and I drain my drink. My head swirls. But it’s not the tequila. My vision clears and I swear if Billie Mae’s tiny apartment had a view of the Atlantic, I’d be looking at London Bridge right now.

“So, what are you going to do?”

“I’m going to quit my job and break up with Quinn. Then I’m going to take control of my life, find a new job and be independent. I’m going to move out on my own and I’m not going to be afraid of losing the closeness with my family.”

“Bravo. You go, girl.” she claps and fist-bumps me.

“I’m especially not going to be anyone’s Cinderella. She’s my least favorite Disney character.”

“Ooo-kaay.”

We laugh.