Sincerely The Puck Bunny Novels & Stories

She grabbed a pack of Hostess Twinkies out of the bag. "So you're really okay? I know I shouldn't say this, but I could never deal with what you've gone through," Bunny said sadly. "I can barely handle one little-old gunfight without freaking out. I mean, I've done karate since I was like twelve, but --"

I needed to shift the focus, and the only thing more pressing than my sister’s demands for a Luna was the pack's defense. “We have a game coming up with the Paxon wolves,” I say, ignoring her lethal ultimatum completely. “If Alex’s on their team, they’ll work her hard to get her on the rink. Make sure Vicky’s training stays tight. I don’t want our defense slacking.” “Valen.” She grits the name out, the veins standing out on her neck. “I’m serious. Put Vicky on the ice longer. Keep the outer wings clear—”

“Yeah, yeah. I’ve got it, Mom. I promise. Love you.” ​“Love you more, silly,” she muttered, finally standing up to disappear into the crowd. The final buzzer sounded. 4-2. Chatham won. The arena exploded with noise. Players celebrated their win. Then Gavin stepped onto the ice, clapping shoulders with that rare, proud half-smile, the one that made him look human for a split second. For one stupid, reckless moment, our eyes locked across the rink. I was just a face in the crowd, but he found me.

and quoted anonymous sources who said I was "just another puck bunny trying to land a hockey player." The words blurred in front of my eyes. Puck bunny. The same label I'd always hated, the same label I'd avoided my entire college career. And now it was attached to my name for the whole world to see. "I'm so sorry," Liam said, his voice rough. "I didn't know they'd taken photos. I didn't know anyone was watching. If I'd known, I never would have..." "You don't have to apologize." My voice was hollow. "It's not your fault. I'm the one who went to that bar. I'm the one who drank too much. I'm the one who..." I couldn't finish the sentence. The shame was too heavy.

I throw the puck up. "Yes." And he catches it. "But you still gawked at him just a few minutes ago." "And I also couldn't stop thinking of the ghostface or how I enjoyed being fucked by him." "Jesus Christ, Ash. When did your straight ass become curved?" I chuckle at that, and he throws the puck. "My mom will kill me." "And burn you. Then ghostface. Then Remington." "I tried watching gay p**n but I didn't like it. My body didn't even give any reaction" I say like it should justify that I'm not gay. That there's a glitch in my system.

In a split second, I watched how he swiftly picked up the puck on the blade of the stick, controlling it like a lacrosse player cradling the ball. As he lifted his stick, time seemed to slow. With a flick of his wrist, Hayes tucked the puck around the post, and it soared into the top of the net, leaving the goaltender grasping at air. Holy shit! The final buzzer sounded and sealed our victory. 4-3. The guys poured onto the rink, shouting and chanting. At first, I didn’t hear what they were saying until I listened hard. “Seven!” “Seven!” “Seven!”

"What?" "What made you think that?" She pointed toward my jersey. "The jersey." I looked down, then back at her. Then down at the jersey again. "I still don't understand." The girl laughed. "That's what puck bunnies do." I frowned. "What the hell is a puck bunny?" Her eyes widened. "You don't know?" "No." She looked genuinely shocked. Like I'd just admitted I didn't know how to breathe. "A puck bunny is basically a hockey player's girlfriend."

It lasted only a second before he turned away. “Elena! You like bunna?” Milka asked. “He’s cute, huh?” I offered her a smile. “So coot,” she sighed happily. “Dadda, my have a bunna?” Conor looked at Chloe, who grinned and sat back as if to say, “She asked you, not me.” “I’m not sure, baby. Let’s see when we get home, okay?” “My ask Santa for a bunna.” “Santa doesn’t bring bunnies,” Aiden said, leaning back on his hands. “They’d get cold in the yard. He gives moms and dads tickets to buy bunnies in the summer.”