Pucked Up (Pucked 2)

I need to focus on making the most of the time we have left together and make sure I secure more sooner rather than later.

“September is coming fast,” I continue. “You’ll be back in school, and I’ll be in training. Then the season starts, and I’ll be traveling a lot. I want more than a couple of days here and there.”

“I want that, too. I like being with you.”

I kiss her shoulder. “So it’s cool if I come out there and do the drive back with you? Maybe I can get Lily to warm up to me.”

“That’d be nice. She’s a great friend.”

“Will I get to meet this ex of yours before I leave?”

“That’s the other thing I was meaning to tell you . . .”

This doesn’t sound good.

“Lily is picking me up tomorrow morning.”

“Morning? I thought we had the day together.” Randy sent me his flight details. I don’t have to get him from the airport until five in the evening.

“Lily said eight, but she’s always late, so probably closer to nine or ten.”

“Why so early? Can’t you leave in the afternoon?”

“It’s a long drive. We need to be there before dark so we can set up camp; otherwise we’ll all have to sleep in the trailer.”

The idea of Sunny sleeping in a trailer with her ex-boyfriend definitely makes my rage meter spike.

Sunny’s voice softens as she explains. “I made the plans before you showed up—after I saw all the pictures and couldn’t get a hold of you. I didn’t think you were coming. I wasn’t even sure I wanted to see you, and then there you were, knocking on my door at two in the morning.”

I trace the edge of her jaw with a fingertip. I’m pulling out all the stops. “You don’t have to explain. It’s my fault.”

“It was a misunderstanding.”

“Because I’m an idiot.”

“No, you’re not.”

“Sometimes I am.” I kiss the bottom of her chin and the tip of her nose, hovering over her lips. “You wanna go inside?”

“Inside?”

“I feel like I should apologize.”

“And we need to go inside for that?”

“I like to demonstrate how sorry I am with actions, not words.”

“What kind of actions?”

“The kind that result in multiple orgasms.”

“Oh. Well, we should definitely go inside then.”CHAPTER NINE

SNEAK ATTACK!Sunny and I spend the afternoon in bed, working up a serious appetite while I discover exactly how bendy she is. By the time we’re done, she’s had four orgasms, I’ve had two, and we’ve had sex in positions I’d never considered feasible.

“I’m starving.” I’m still between her legs, enjoying the feel of Sunny’s hands running up and down my back. The come-down from my orgasm lingers. It’s an incredible feeling, second only to winning a hockey game.

“I don’t think you need any more cookie today.”

“I haven’t even eaten—” I lift my head from her chest. She’s got the cutest look on her face, all wide-eyed and pleased with herself. “You being funny, Sunny Sunshine?”

She grins.

“I can always eat more cookie.” I start kissing a path down her stomach, but she grabs my head in her hands.

“If you go down on me again you’re either going to have a callus on your tongue, or I’m going to have one on my cookie.”

I laugh and kiss my way back up to her mouth. “I need to eat some real food anyway. Let’s put clothes on and go out. I wanna take you somewhere nice.”

“Oooh! I know the perfect place. You’re gonna love it!”

Sunny pushes on my chest and rolls out from under me, hopping to her feet.

Half an hour later we’re dressed and in downtown Guelph. My idea of the perfect place to eat isn’t the same as Sunny’s. We’re at a vegan restaurant. I’m not knocking the food. Plants are actually pretty tasty. I just know I’m going to be hungry by the time we get back in the car. Still, she’s excited, so I order half the menu and stuff my face with food that’s never canoodled with a cow or even a fish.

I falsely believe that no one who works here can possibly watch hockey. They all have dreads and wear shoes made out of hemp. But I’m dead wrong about the hockey thing. The guy who seats us knows exactly who I am, and he can’t stop talking about how much he wishes I’d been traded to Toronto.

Sunny must come to this place a lot, because the wait staff seem to know her. She introduces me to a bunch of people, but I can’t keep their names straight, and my usual nicknames don’t work since they’re all the same variety of granola. She also doesn’t call me her boyfriend. She doesn’t call me anything other than my name, but we sit on the same side of the table instead of across from each other, and she snuggles into my side. That says a lot more than a title.