Page 74 of Silver Fox Puck

I smirk, stepping closer.

"Funny," I murmur. "You didn’t seem to mind when I showed up last night."

Her breath catches.

Because we both know she has no comeback for that.

Kenzie doesn’t move. Doesn’t blink. Doesn’t even breathe. Because she knows I’m right.

She can try to ignore me.

Try to run.

Try to shove last night into a neat little box labeled One-Night Stand, Do Not Open Again.

But it won’t work.

Because I’m standing in her doorway. And I’m not leaving. Not until we stop pretending.

She crosses her arms, tilting her chin. "What do you want, Grant?"

My eyes drag over her. The way her shirt hangs off one shoulder. The way she’s barefoot, her nails painted some deep red that shouldn’t make my brain short-circuit, but somehow does.

She looks soft. Like she just woke up. Like she’s comfortable. Like she wasn’t expecting me to show up and throw her entire night off balance.

Good.

I take a step forward, closing the space between us.

"You tell me," I murmur.

Her breath hitches. She hates that I noticed.

I lean against the doorframe, my voice calm. Controlled.

"You made your rules, Flight. No names. No strings. No expectations."

Her jaw tightens.

"So why are you acting like this is something to be scared of?"

A flicker of something flashes in her green eyes. Something sharp. Unreadable. Then she scoffs.

"I’m not scared."

I arch a brow. "No?"

She glares. "No."

And yet—she’s gripping the hem of her shirt like it’s the only thing keeping her grounded.

I could push her on this. Call her bluff. Tell her she’s full of shit.

But instead? I tilt my head, studying her.

And then I lower my voice. "I’ll ask you one more time."

I step closer. Not touching, but in her space enough to feel her body heat. Her throat moves in a slow swallow.

---