“I will do no such thing. And my paws are not grubby, canine.”

“You can’t just walk in here and—”

“I can and I will. I’m giving her the opportunity of a lifetime and I’m not letting you and your girl power sensibilities get in my way.”

Blayne gasped. “How dare you!”

“Cut the shit, Thorpe.”

“You know what? You don’t want to mess with me, Malone.”

“Why? What are you going to do? Sob me to death?”

While the two idiots argued, they didn’t notice that Hannah was desperately looking for a way out of the room, but the females had her backed into a corner. She looked incredibly uncomfortable and Crush got that. Some bears just didn’t like a lot of yelling and drama around them.

Desperate brown eyes sought his, long fingers curling into fists. Not wanting her to snap and possibly bite little Blayne’s head off in the process—she was the closest—Crush grabbed both feline and canine around the waist and took them back out into the hallway. By the time he put them down, the two grown women were slapping at each other like, well ... like regular suburban girls. Seemed odd since neither of them were regular anything.

“Stop it,” he ordered, using his best cop voice.

“She started it. Sneaky cat!”

“Dumb canine!”

“That is enough! I mean it.” Crush stood between the two women, but he faced Malone. “What are you doing?”

“I want Hannah to try out for the Carnivores and Little Miss Mood Swing wants her to try out for derby.”

“Derby, I’ll have you know, has a long and proud tradition.”

“Of tiny shorts and makeup use.”

The two went for each other again and Crush pushed them apart. “Here’s a suggestion ... why don’t you let Hannah decide?”

They both stopped, gazed up at him. “Why?” they asked.

Disgusted, Crush walked back into the game room and over to Hannah. Her eyes were on the pages of her book, but Crush knew she wasn’t reading. Not with her right leg bouncing and her cheeks a bright red.

“Hey.”

She cleared her throat. “Hey.”

“Do you remember me?”

“You’re Cella’s boyfriend.”

“I’m not—” He stopped, and calmed down. “Right. And you took on those two grizzlies the other day.”

“That big one hurt Abby, and that full-human girl, she didn’t do anything. She was just helping.”

“I know. You absolutely did the right thing. Not that you care, but I was impressed.”

She peeked up at him through long, dark lashes. “Really?”

“Yeah. Unfortunately for you, though, you also impressed the two nutbags I took out of here.”

She frowned. “Huh?”

“Let me just ask you a question, Hannah, and you give me a straight and honest answer. Extremely honest.”

“There is no ‘extremely’ honest. There’s honest. Or there’s dishonest.”

Yep. She was his kind of girl. If Crush had ever had a sister, he’d guess she’d have the same kind of argument.

“You’re right.”

“So what do you want to ask me?”

“Do you want a shot at playing hockey or do you want a shot at playing derby?”

Frowning, she answered, “I don’t think I’d be very good at either.”

“Only you would know that but, I’m afraid, if you want either of these two off your back anytime soon, you’re going to have to fall on your face to prove it.”

She briefly closed her eyes. “Yeah. I was afraid it was getting to that point. Blayne’s been circling me for months like a stray circling an injured rat in an alley. And then Cella ... I just wasn’t exactly sure why.”

“Do you even like hockey or derby?”

“Hockey’s okay. I don’t know much about derby, but I’ve seen the shorts. I’m not comfortable with those shorts, Mr. Crushek.”

“You can call me Crush. Besides ... I’m guessing I wouldn’t look good in those shorts, either. Although I’ve been told I have nice calves.”

That made her smile and Crush asked, “Can I make a suggestion?”

Hannah studied him a moment, then nodded her head. “Okay.”

“If you tolerate hockey, then go to the Carnivore tryout. Get it done and over with and chances are neither will bother you again.”

“You clearly don’t know Blayne.”

That made him laugh a little. “I don’t know her well, no, but I’m sure sobbing will be involved. But that could work for you, too. Seem all broken up about your humiliation at hockey and maybe cry a little, I’m guessing she’ll totally back off. I won’t promise, however, that she won’t try to find something else to obsess over. I haven’t known her two weeks and I already sense that she obsesses over a lot.”

“You’d be amazed.”

“But you’ll definitely get Malone off your back.”

“I just don’t ...”

“Don’t what?”

“Don’t want to embarrass myself in front of Cella. I mean ... she’s Bare Knuckles Malone. The Bare Knuckles Malone.”

Realizing he was talking to a fan, Crush grinned. “Kid, until you’ve spent two hours with your childhood hero—Malone’s father—and listened to him go on and on about his participation in every illegal activity short of first-degree murder and sexual assault ... you really don’t know what embarrassment is.”