Page 24 of Silver Fox Puck

I swallow, clutching my phone until my knuckles throb.

"Yeah," I force out. "I’m here."

Jake snorts. "You go quiet like that, and I start thinking you actually give a shit about hockey for once."

I make a noise. Something that sounds like a laugh but isn’t.

Because there is no fucking way.

No.

It’s not him. It can’t be him.

Right?

I need to ask. Need to confirm. Need to not sound like I’m seconds from spiraling.

I force a casual tone. "So, where’d they find this guy?"

Jake exhales. "Not sure. He was coaching in Chicago for a while. Guess he’s been out for a bit. I guess we made him an initial offer last week, but he was weighing it against a head coaching job in Denver."

My stomach drops.

Denver.

My mouth goes dry. "And?"

Jake sighs. "Apparently, he had a second interview with Denver this morning and decided to go with us instead."

I grip my bag tighter and dig into the strap.

It’s him.

Somewhere in the last few hours—while I was flying back here, thinking about how I’d never see him again—he was agreeing to move to Nashville.

I don’t do fate.

I don’t believe in meant to be or the universe has a plan.

I believe in choices. In making my own damn decisions, in taking the next flight out before anything can tie me down.

But this?

This feels like something bigger than coincidence.

Like the universe is laughing in my face.

And I do not appreciate the joke.

I don’t even realize I’m whispering until I hear my own voice.

"Shit."

Jake laughs. "Relax, Kenz. Not like you’re gonna have to deal with him."

But that’s exactly the problem.

Because I will.

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