Page 50 of Silver Fox Puck

"Fine!" I hiss, slamming my mug down. "There was a him. Briefly. But it’s over."

Allie sits back, looking entirely too pleased with herself. "Uh-huh. And why, exactly, was it so brief?"

I sigh, glaring into my coffee.

Because it was only supposed to be one night. Because now he’s my brother’s coach.

But obviously, I’m not saying that. So I go with the safest answer.

"It was a mistake."

Allie snorts. "Yeah, okay. So you’re just—what? Picking up extra flights and avoiding my calls for funsies? That tracks."

I groan. "I’m not avoiding you."

She raises a brow.

I scowl. "I’m not!"

She grins like she just won a round of mind chess. "So who is he?"

"No one."

"Kenzie."

I hesitate. Because this is dangerous territory. One wrong move, one too-specific detail, and Allie will hunt the truth down like a bloodhound. So I keep it vague.

"He’s older."

She hums. "How much older?"

"Not the point."

"Super the point."

I glare. "He’s… late thirties."

"Oooh, Kenzie." She wiggles her brows. "You finally found yourself a Silver Fox?"

My stomach flips. Because hearing her say it? Hearing someone else put words to what’s been in my head since the moment I saw him in that bar?

It makes this feel way too real.

I scoff, trying to play it off. "It wasn’t like that."

"Uh-huh."

"It was just—" I wave a hand. "A mistake."

Allie snorts. "Sure. And I’m a virgin."

I glare. "I’m serious."

She leans in, eyes sharp. "And I know you, Kenz. If it was really ‘just a mistake,’ you wouldn’t be avoiding me like I’m the IRS."

I sigh, dropping my head back against the chair. Because she’s not wrong.

She watches me for a long moment, studying me with that annoying, all-knowing best friend expression. Then she tilts her head.

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