Confessions of a Former Puck Bunny by Cindi Madsen

| May 9, 2017 | 0 Comments


Confession #1: I used to be a puck bunny, but after a hockey player broke my heart, I gave up all things hockey. Now I’m just focused on finding a way to pass my math class so I can graduate college.

Confession #2: Ryder “Ox” Maddox’s deep, sexy voice sends fuzzy tingles through my entire body, and I’m powerless to stop it. Which is a big problem since the hot, surprisingly funny hockey player is my new math tutor.

Confession #3: I can’t stop thinking about how ripped Ryder is from all his hockey training, and how fun it’d be to cross lines with him.

Confession #4: I kissed a hockey player and I liked it.

Confession #5: If I’m not careful, I might relapse and fall for Ryder, and then I’ll be totally pucked.




 “So, how was the game?” Lindsay asked.

I peered into her big brown eyes—they weren’t as focused as usual, more unguarded. But I worried the wrong words would still erect barriers, and I didn’t want to lose this more uninhibited version of her. “For tonight, how about I’m just your math tutor?”

The corner of her mouth twisted up. “You’re going to teach me math on the dance floor?”

Sure.” I drew her closer, until her body was flush with mine, took a step and whispered, “One, two…” Another step. “Three.” I grabbed her hand, spun her in a circle, and dipped her.

She gripped my biceps with her free hand and tipped her head all the way back, her hair nearly brushing the floor. She laughed, full out, and when I pulled her into my arms, the impact of her unguarded smile kicked me in the gut. “That’s not math. That’s just counting, and even as drunk as I am, I know how to do that. Those dance moves on the other hand…” Her hands drifted up my arms and rested on my shoulders. “Where’d a guy like you learn those?”

The truth involved being “prepped” for political events that I hated, but I didn’t want to get into how my mom used me as her golden boy prop to help advance her campaign. Instead I used the hand on Lindsay’s back to press her tighter against me, soaking in her warmth and curves. “I like your laugh. Your smile, too.”

She reached up and touched the pads of her fingertips to my lips. My breath caught in my throat as a zing shot from her touch to the center of my chest. “I like your smile, too.”

A crease formed between her eyebrows. “But I’m not supposed to be telling you that. I probably shouldn’t be dancing with you, either.”

Is that right?” I slid my thumb underneath the hem of her shirt, stroking the spot where I’d seen ink that first night I’d tutored her in the math lab. “I won’t tell if you won’t.”


Cindi Madsen is a USA Today Bestselling author of contemporary romance and young adult novels. She sits at her computer every chance she gets, plotting revising, and falling in love with her characters. Sometimes it makes her a crazy person. Without it, she’d be even crazier. She has way too many shoes, but can always find a reason to buy a new pretty pair, especially if they’re sparkly, colorful, or super tall. She loves music, dancing, and wishes summer lasted all year long. She lives in Colorado (where summer is most definitely NOT all year long) with her husband and three children.


Category: Contemporary Fiction, New Adult, Romance

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