Page 43 of Silver Fox Puck

Except—her.

She’s still in my goddamn head. I step inside my apartment, toss my keys onto the counter, and roll my shoulders, trying to shake the tension that’s been coiled tight in my body since dinner.

I should be thinking about practice tomorrow.

About my players. My strategy. The upcoming season.

But instead? I’m thinking about her. Kenzie. Jake’s little sister.

The one woman I had no business touching.

The one woman who somehow still has my blood running hot and my mind tangled in knots.

I pour myself a whiskey, take a slow sip, and close my eyes.

It doesn’t help.

Because she’s everywhere.

That sharp mouth. That reckless smirk. The way she sat across from me tonight, daring me to react.

Like she wasn’t just pushing buttons—she was slamming her palm down on every single one.

And worse? The way my body responded to it. I exhale sharply, dragging a hand through my hair. This was supposed to be done.

That night in Denver? It was supposed to be the end of it. I made my rules clear. No strings. No expectations. And yet, here I am—standing in my own damn apartment, thinking about her like a fucking fool.

This has to stop.

I grip my whiskey glass tighter, letting the burn slide down my throat, but it does nothing to drown her out.

Kenzie Williams is not my problem.

She’s young. Reckless. Off-limits.

And yet—

She’s the only thing I can think about.

I exhale sharply, setting the glass down harder than necessary. The sound cuts through the silence—sharp, jarring.

I know better than this.

I’ve spent years building walls, setting boundaries, making sure nothing—no one—could get under my skin.

Lauren made sure of that. That marriage? That divorce? It taught me everything I needed to know.

Relationships complicate things. They give people power over you. They create weaknesses that can be exploited. And I swore I’d never put myself in that position again.

So why the hell is Kenzie still in my head? Somehow, she broke down the walls and barriers in one night.

Why the hell did I watch her at dinner like I was starving?

Why the hell did I want to follow her when she walked away?

I rub a hand down my face, frustration tightening in my ribs like a vice. She is not my problem. Not my focus.

I have Olivia.

---