Page 5 of The Puck Bunny

Sadly, I don’t have a chance to explore further because Finn is coming up fast behind us. I nod in his direction acknowledging him, then lower my voice.

“We’ll talk more about this tomorrow. After practice. You’re not off the hook.”

He smirks. “Yes, Mom.” He takes off for the street, headed who-knows-where, before I can do any more than scowl and give the finger to his back for the Mom comment as he trots away.

Finn joins me. “You walking? I don’t mind giving you a ride.”

Looking at the nearly empty street, I make a snap decision to take him up on the offer of a ride because it’s more like an offer of friendship.

“Maybe I won’t walk. It’s been a long night. A long week if I’m honest.”

He snorts and I follow him to his car parked at the curb near the mouth of the alley. I laugh because it’s a decked-out, silver Jeep Rubicon with so many bells and whistles it probably has actual bells and whistles.

We climb inside and I’m not surprised to find it’s trashed as I pick up an empty pizza box off the passenger seat and toss it into the back with the rest of the randomly strewn stuff—including smelly hockey paraphernalia.

“I’ll have to get me one of these heavy-duty beasts to ride.”

He snorts. “What happened to your Ferrari?”

“When in Rome…”

He shakes his head. “You ready for the start of the season?” He presses the start button.

“Bring ’em on. We’re playing Montreal for the season opener, right? Big rivals of the Brawlers. Let’s make a statement.”

Finn nods as he drives, the same easy smile that seems a permanent feature of his face. I like him more every minute I spend with him. Fun and non-judgmental—aside from the Ferrari crack—which I sold when I left L.A. Plus, he’s serious as fuck when it comes to his hockey. My kind of guy.

“One more game, one more team event and then it’s Go time,” he says.

“Team event?” I search my mind, but I must have skipped over that detail on the two-week itinerary I was given when I’d arrived too late for pre-season training and in a rush to get back on the ice.

He looks at me as he pulls up at the curb of the Bostonian Hotel where I’m staying temporarily. I haven’t had time to house-hunt and the places the team realtor chose were all sterile condos near the Garden and practice facility. My old self would have been perfectly happy with the sleek, high-end digs and their ultimate bachelor-pad style but I’m determined to walk the talk of getting away from the wild bachelor lifestyle and back to my New England roots, so I sent her to the suburbs to find something homier. Maybe with a yard for a dog.

“Yeah,” Finn says. “It’s the Brawlers’ Pop-Up event for More Than Words, an organization that helps kids in the system learn how to work.”

“Pop-up event?”

“A pop-up store we’re hosting at the Garden. The kids do all the work and we draw in the customers and sign merch. Last year, I got to know one of the kids and we’ve stayed in touch. He’s into graphic design and I had him work with me on designing a collage poster for me to auction at the Brawlers’ Foundation Gala.”

“Sounds like a cool NPO.”

“NPO?”

“Yeah, that’s L.A. speak for non-profit organization. Sorry.”

“No prob. Wait ’til you see this poster. I’m thinking I should buy it myself to put on the wall in my den.”

“Is that right?” My smile is sinister.

“Don’t even think about out-bidding me.”

“Why not? That’s what a charity auction is for, isn’t it?”

He punches my arm. “Get out.”

I laugh “Maybe I want a poster of you on my wall. Who says I’m not a fan?”

“I’ll tell you what. If you buy it, you have to promise to give it away in a drawing to one of the More Than Words kids.”