Page 75 of Silver Fox Puck

"You still think you can handle this?"

Her mouth opens slightly.

I can see the war happening in real-time. Between her body and her mind. Between what she wants and what she’s telling herself she should want.

Her fingers twitch. Her breath shakes. And still—she doesn’t answer. Because we both already know.

She’s not ready to admit it.

But she will.

Chapter 15 – Kenzie

Ishould have stayed home.

I should have enjoyed my day off, cozied up in my apartment, turned off my phone, and buried myself in some ridiculous reality show until my brain stopped replaying every single second of my night with Grant.

But instead?

I walk straight into another bad decision.

I come to the rink.

Jake mentioned he had an afternoon practice, and for some idiotic reason, I thought watching some hockey would be a good distraction.

A way to shake off this Grant-induced haze.

Spoiler alert:

It is not.

Because Grant?

Is here.

Looking like every sinful decision I’ve ever made wrapped in six feet of broad shoulders, unfairly powerful legs, and pure dominance.

My stomach twists. Because seeing him in his element like this reminds me of Denver. Of our steamy night when he owned me, kissing and licking every inch of my skin. Pounding into me one second and whispering sweet compliments that made my toes curl the next.

I’m standing there, aroused and needy.

And the worst part? He doesn’t even know I’m watching. He’s just being himself.

And that? Shatters something in me. I grip the railing, exhaling slowly.

This was a bad idea. A very bad idea.

Practice ends and I should leave. Right now. I start to turn—

And then I hear it.

A high-pitched giggle rings through the rink, light and full of excitement. My gaze snaps toward the ice, my stomach twisting for reasons I don’t understand yet. A little girl—tiny, dark curls spilling out from beneath her helmet—clutches onto the boards, wobbling slightly as she tries to steady herself.

She’s wearing a jersey that practically swallows her, the sleeves flopping past her wrists. But she doesn’t seem to care. She’s beaming, her entire body buzzing with energy.

She lets go of the boards for half a second, trying to push forward—only to stumble. Before I even process what’s happening, Grant is there. Skating toward her. Catching her with ease before she falls. Steadying her like it’s second nature.

And then—

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