Puck Bunny

Chapter 1

Adama

“No, I think we only want the ‘Welcome Players!’ board set up at the entrance where they get on the ship. We don’t need one on this boat.” 

“What about the open bar?”

I turn and look over at the beautifully adorned mahogany bar of the William D. Evans sternwheeler boat that’s hosting our event. Honestly, the whole venue is my personal favorite for hosting our public relations events. The deep-red mahogany of the walls and crimson drapes over the windows act as a natural backdrop for the San Diego Stingray colors. 

“We can add some more goldish-yellow to make it pop a little more. Maybe a runner for the bar, that way it helps with the mess as well. I think we have extras in the boxes. The black and seafoam accents are perfect.”

My intern’s face lights up as she hurries off to accomplish her new task. I love having passionate workers. They’re so much more helpful than the apathetic ones just here for a paycheck. 

“Do you really think that’s a good idea?”

Speak of the devil, I seethe to myself before getting control of my face and turning toward my nasty co-worker.

“Yes, Beth. I do. We’re getting ready for all of the players to arrive from their bus. Could you please make sure their coats are taken care of as they board?”

Beth’s blue eyes flash before she turns her perfect nose up, flips her sleek dark locks, and saunters off. 

That woman rubs me wrong. I’ve seen how she talks and treats people. She’s a hoity-toity white girl, and her snobbery just doesn’t sit well with me. But, since I am in charge of the set-up for the meet-and-greet for our new players, I get the rare chance to put her in her place. It’s the little things.

I look back at the set-up one last time. The tables are spaced out perfectly, leaving plenty of room to gather and wander. Giant windows will let us all look at the view permitted by the short cruise. It’s not just a pleasant background. It will also allow the new players in town to get a stunning look at the city they’re taking on as their own.

It also keeps the players in the room and focused, which turns out to be harder than I had first thought when I took this job so many years ago. Being on a boat eliminates the ease of roaming out of the event early. This applies mainly to the seasoned hockey players, but it’s an effective way to make them stay put and interact with their new teammates.

“Are we ready, Adama?”

I turn and see my supervisor looking pleased but still skeptical. In other words, his usual countenance.

“Yes, sir.”

“Let them in!” he calls. Players and coaching staff begin to filter in. 

I stand back and admire the handy work of the PR team. The welcome event for the new players also unofficially kicks off the new season. It really sets the tone for the rest of the year. In my mind, anyway.

It’s also one of the only events where we really get to mingle with everyone – players, staff, the whole shebang. After this, everyone really breaks off into their roles. Though our paths still cross in the course of work, it's never in a whole group like this. 

Not only that, but it’s very polished attire. I get to dress up and, as one of the few opportunities I have for such a thing, I take full advantage of it. I sneak a glance at my reflection through the polished glass of the bar and gingerly adjust my coiffed, naturally curly hair.

“You pulled out all the stops on this one. Nice work.”

“Oh, thank you, Marcus. I hope the team enjoys it.”

The assistant Stingray coach hands me a champagne flute as he steps beside me, overlooking the filling room.

“Thank you.”

“I want to toast the new year and team. Cheers to one of the most beautiful women I know, who kills it every time.” He flashes his playboy grin at me, forcing a smile from me that I can’t help.

“You’re so full of shit.” I clink his glass and take a sip.

“It’s not really the start of the new season unless I hit on you. It’s a tradition at this point.”

I smile, not minding the predictable flirting. He’s right, it’s tradition now. It also accidentally somehow made Marcus one of my closest in-season friends.

“I don’t have much of a social life during the season, so I take what I can get.” I smirk as I deliver the tart reply, and he lets his mouth dramatically drop open. 

“Oh, is someone telling one of his great jokes again?” Beth suddenly appears, softly brushing Marcus’s arm. 

Gross.

“The ship will be pulling out now that the doors are closed. Enjoy your ride and direct any questions to the captain.”

I can barely feel the boat pull away, but Beth is somehow ‘accidentally’ jolted into Marcus’s arms. I roll my eyes and walk away. 

Looking around the room, I smile again. It’s coming together nicely. The room is full of sharp-dressed men, and the few women that are here are elegantly attired. 

I glance down at my sea-foam green dress, matching the team’s logo. I catch my reflection in the high polish of the wood and smirk. My confidence is high tonight, as it usually is when a PR event goes well. 

My breath catches when, out of the corner of my eye, I catch a glimpse of a strikingly handsome white man in the crowd. I quickly avert my eyes, realizing that he’s staring at me as well. 

My God, he is fine. 

By only using my peripherals, I take more of him in.

He has to be a hockey player. He has too strong of a roughness about him to be anything else. This is a new recruit. 

I can still feel his gaze lingering over me, making my cheeks grow hot. I finally give in and allow myself to meet his rich brown eyes –

What in the actual fu–

My eyes widen in disbelief. I spin on my heel, instantly feeling the need to be busy. I march over to the kitchen, the only other room on the boat. 

Trying not to run there is harder than I anticipated, but I manage. Once behind the swinging doors, I throw myself to the side to steady my legs.

There’s no way in hell that was who I thought. It’s impossible. Right?

I slowly inhale before turning to glance out of the round windows to the banquet room. 

Holy shit.

One of my go-to girls for serving at events pushes into the kitchen.

“Claire!” I wave her over.

She gives me a curious look but still does as I ask. “What are you doing, Adama?”

“I just need to ask you something. Have you been hearing a lot of the introductions from the players tonight while weaving through with appetizers?”

The blonde bites her lip and hesitates.

“You know I don’t care that you eavesdrop. This is off the record.”

She grins. “Who do you want to know about?”

I point through the window. “That tall, ruggedly handsome one with the brown curly hair, deep brown eyes, and strong jaw.”

Claire raises her eyebrow. “If I share, you share.”

“Just tell me what you’ve heard, and we’ll see what’s fair.”

She looks out the window. “That’s Cole Easton. I heard that he moved here after accepting a contract with the team.”

“That’s all?”

“Well, I haven’t been out there too long yet. If you want me to get more, you share some deets.”

I snort. “Fine. He and I dated in college.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah. I mean, it was an amicable break-up, no wrongdoing took part. But also, I never thought I would see him again so now I’m thrown off and don’t really want to deal with that.”

“I’ll see what else I can find out.”

“Thank you.”

She nods and disappears. 

I look at the clock. The event has only just begun. I can’t hide here all night. I have to go out there and mingle as well as oversee things. It’s just...

Of course, he didn’t come here for me. He didn’t even know where I was. It’s just a crazy coincidence. 

I laugh at the thought. 

Wringing my fingers, I force myself to focus. I have a job to do. There are so many people to wine and dine that I probably won’t even get to Cole. Besides, maybe he didn’t recognize me. College was a long time ago.

I turn to head out of the kitchen, only to be greeted by the one person I’m trying to dodge.

“Adama?”

I hate how my heart instantly flutters at the sound of his smooth, deep voice. Seeing him up close and personal puts an aching in my loins. I’m not ready for this. 

“Cole! Hi. How are you?”

I force my hand between us in an awkward shake. 

He grins his signature cocky smile. “I’m good now.” He takes my hand, though he doesn’t shake it.

My heart races faster and faster the longer he holds onto my hand. Finally, I pull my arm away.

“So, you’re playing for my team now?”

“Oh, your team?”

“Well, you know what I mean.” I brush it off, suddenly flustered at my forwardness.

“Actually, I don’t. It’s been, what? Six years?”

“That long?” I laugh a little too forcibly. 

“You know…” His voice turns to velvet, forcing me to look up into his chocolate eyes, mesmerized. “You’ve grown even more beautiful. I didn’t know that would be possible.”

My giggle is more natural now. His familiarness suddenly transports me back as if no time has passed at all. It feels comforting rather than awkward, much to my surprise.

“I see you’re still as smooth as ever.”

“Oh, you know it, baby.” He gives me a practiced wink.

“You haven’t changed at all, have you?” I smile, now more relaxed.

He chuckles and snags us two glasses of wine from the floating waiter. “Can I assume you still drink?”

I take the glass. “Assume away.” 

Cole holds his glass out. “A toast to old flames and fortunate circumstances.”

“Cheers.”

I catch a whiff of his sandalwood cologne, which triggers a tingling that trickles through the most intimate parts of myself. His scent hasn’t changed since college. I try not to slam my wine.

It’s not hard to see the dreamy joker that he was when we were together. But that jester had also been the reason why I knew it had to end. There was no future with Cole. He was so much fun, but that could only last so long.

I force myself to focus on that, even at the same time that I find it hard not to lean in closer to him while he’s talking. 

I shake my head. It’s not working. 

“I’m sorry, Cole, but I have to go. Great catching up, though,” I lie as I turn to walk away and make a clean break, just like in college.

“Adama, wait.”

I force myself to stop and smile when I turn. He’s still a player, after all. We’re going to have to figure out some way to keep an amicable and professional working relationship

His eyes are wide and gorgeous. He looks like a sculpted young Zeus calling out to me.  I have to force myself to not picture him in a toga holding a lightning bolt. 

“I was wondering if you could show me around tomorrow since I’m new to the area. Would that be okay?”

I think I’m having a stroke.