“Did you hear that?” The Dean’s tone is accusatory, his glare now turned to Coach. “We need to nip this stuff in the bud. If word about these Bunny Cards gets out, I fear it’ll go viral. It could reach Harry’s ear. And even worse, it could affect our ranking. I want to be the number one Ivy in the country. That’s my legacy. Our hockey team should be one of our greatest assets, but it risks becoming our biggest liability. I thought you ran a tight ship with your team. If the actions of your players were to make us lose the chance to get to the top spot, or even worse, fall further down our current second place, I’m gonna hold you personally responsible, Harrison.”
Oh, fuck. If Coach thinks his leadership is being questioned, we’re definitely going to be hit with some cruel and unusual punishment.
“I do run a tight ship. And this nonsense with the puck bunnies and the score cards ends right now.”
“Yes, sir,” Luke and I say in unison, straightening in our chairs.
Coach Harrison, however, must have heard the uncertainty in my voice. He walks from the spot where he was standing behind our chairs and leans forward to speak into my ear. “Do you have any objections, Hart?”
I should probably keep my thoughts to myself, but the words tumble out of my mouth before I can exercise my better judgment. “No objections, sir. But how are you going to stop everyone from hooking up?”
The smile on Coach’s face doesn’t promise anything good.
“Interesting you should ask that, Hart. Not everyone knows that before my NHL days, when I was in college, I majored in economics. And the solution to the bunny problem will be solved by applying one of the first principles they teach in Economy 101. The law of demand and offer.”
“Come again, sir?” I ask, confused.
The amused glint in Coach’s eyes is even scarier than his usual scowl. “It’s very simple when you think about it. A service is offered if there’s a demand. There are puck bunnies because you and your teammates are a bunch of unruly, promiscuous horn dogs. If you stop showing interest in the girls who hang around the team, they’ll hopefully move onto more edifying pursuits.”
This is crazy.
Coach played in the NHL for fifteen years, and before that, he played hockey right here in Star Cove. I’m sure there were puck bunnies even back in his day. Puck bunnies are a tradition, and I doubt that anyone could do anything about it.
“With all respect, sir,” Luke finally intervenes, voicing my same perplexity. “But how can you keep the entire team from hooking up? There are always girls gravitating around the team and you can’t police everyone twenty-four seven.”
The answer catches me by surprise.
“We’re going to lead by example.” Coach’s grin widens as he points his finger at Luke. “You are in a monogamous relationship and the team looks up to you. Do you know who else they look up to?”
Coach’s eyes land on me, and I squirm in my chair.
“You’re one of our star players, Hart. Your teammates look up to you and follow your example on and off the ice.”
They’re out of their minds.
“So you want me to turn down any woman who wants to hook up with me?”
Coach Harrison shakes his head. “That would be unrealistic and way too out of character. Besides, I doubt that you could stay entirely celibate, and I don’t want this new groove to mess with your performance on the ice.”
That’s it.
He’s definitely going to cut my balls off. Or beat any sexual urges out of me with triple, maybe quadruple, daily practices.
“We’re going to make monogamy look cool, Hart. We’re gonna get you a girlfriend.”
I’m sure I must have heard that wrong. “A girlfriend?” I repeat, shocked by the turn things are taking.
“A girlfriend.” Coach confirms. “And you’re going to take her to every party. She’s going to come to every home game and wear your jersey. You’re going to look blessedly, hopelessly in love, and convince your teammates that random hookups are out of fashion.”
Maybe Coach has taken too many hits to the head during his hockey career. Even though we wore helmets, concussions are a still big problem when you play a contact sport.
There’s a reason why I don’t do relationships. They take dedication and time I don’t have. I also never met a woman who can keep my attention for more than a night or two.
“Sir, even if I wanted to go with your unorthodox plan, I don’t know anyone who would want to date me under false pretenses. I mean no disrespect, but I refuse to lie to someone about my intentions. If I dated someone as some kind of photo op, they should be aware of what they’re getting themselves into.”
The Dean looks furious. “Are you seriously choosing this moment to grow a fucking conscience, Hart?”
I’ve never cared about what other people think about me. But the judgment I see on the Dean and Coach’s faces stings more than I care to admit.
