“Actually, yeah. I mean, I wouldn’t talk s**t about him, but if he was a player, I’d warn you off. You seem like a nice girl. Tommy’s no saint. I’ve seen him pick up a puck bunny or two.”
“A what?”
“A puck bunny. It’s what the guys call women who hang out at the bar in order to hook up with hockey players. Like groupies.”
Deirdre leaned forward. “You mean just to sleep with them?”
Caitlyn nodded.
Such a thought had never occurred to Deirdre. To find a man just to have s*x. She’d often thought about s*x—more so since being with Tommy—but she’d always assumed it would be with someone she loved. Her Catholic upbringing reared its head.
Did it matter if she didn’t love him? Would it be different? At times like this, she wished she had a sister. She pushed those questions aside. Hadn’t sh
