Page 69 of Silver Fox Puck

Because I know that.

I just don’t know what to do with it.

Allie leans back, studying me. “So, what are you going to do?”

I blink. “What do you mean?”

She arches a brow. “Are you going to keep pretending this is just sex? Or are you going to admit that maybe—just maybe—you’ve caught feelings for the hot silver fox hockey coach?”

I scowl. “Don’t call him all that.”

“Why not? It’s true.” She grins. “That man is a walking panty-dropper, and I fully support your life choices.”

I drop my forehead to the table with a groan.

“Kill me.”

She laughs. But then, her voice softens again.

“For real though, Kenz…” She tilts her head. “Have you decided? Do you even want to walk away?”

I swallow hard.

Because that? That’s the question I haven’t let myself ask. I need air.

After an hour of Allie dissecting every inch of my love life, I throw some cash on the table, hug her goodbye, and bolt.

I don’t have an answer for her. Not yet.

And I sure as hell won’t find one while she’s grinning at me like she already knows how this ends.

So I head toward my car, digging for my keys—

And walk straight into a solid, unmovable wall. A very familiar, very firm, very infuriating wall. Strong hands catch my arms, steadying me.

And then I hear it. That deep, smug, ridiculously attractive voice.

“Gotta stop running, Flight.”

Shit.

I look up.

And there he is.

Grant Maddox.

Looking too damn good in a fitted dark t-shirt and jeans, and a smirk that makes my stomach flip. Mm mm—salt and pepper hair in a dark t-shirt? Yes please.

I step back fast.

Too fast.

Because his grip tightens slightly before he lets me go, like he’s making sure I don’t fall.

I scowl. “Are you following me?”

His smirk deepens. “Trust me, Flight. If I was following you, you wouldn’t know it.”

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