Page 49 of Silver Fox Puck

This isn’t a problem. This is fixable. I’ll just… keep pretending like it never happened. Like he never happened.

My phone buzzes. A new message. I suck in a sharp breath.

Grant.

Could it be?

I brace myself. Open my texts.

And—

I choke on my coffee.

Oh, shit.

I glance around the terminal like Allie is somehow here, watching me. But no, she’s just psychic. I exhale slowly, dropping my head back against the airport seat.

I should lie. I should say there’s no guy. But Allie? She’ll see right through it. Because I’ve been running, and she knows it.

I should have ignored the text. Or faked some excuse:

Sorry, bad WIFI!

Mid-flight, talk later!

In a coma, try again next week!

But instead?

I let my best friend’s psychic energy wear me down.

***

I’m sitting across from Allie at our favorite café, stirring my coffee like a wind turbine.

She takes one look at me and smirks. "Who is he?"

I nearly choke on my drink at her directness. "Excuse me?"

"You’re fidgeting. You never fidget."

I freeze.

Allie just cocks her head, tapping her fingers against her mug. "So… you going to tell me about him, or do I have to start guessing?"

I school my face into the most neutral expression I can muster.

"There is no him."

Her smirk deepens. "Kenzie."

I sip my coffee.

She leans in. "Kenzie."

I take another sip.

She grins. "Kenz—"

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