Page 85 of Silver Fox Puck

His mouth twitches, the faintest hint of a smirk. "I was busy working."

I cross my arms. "Seemed more like avoiding."

He tilts his head slightly, like he’s considering that. Then he leans in, just enough that I catch the faintest hint of his cologne beneath the lingering chill of the rink.

"You watching me, or just hoping I’ll chase you again?"

My breath catches. Damn, he sees right through me. Because that’s exactly what this feels like.

Like he’s making me wait. Like he’s testing to see how long I can hold out before I crack first.

Our faces inches apart, I open my mouth, ready to fire back, ready to get some of my power back—

But then I hear someone behind me and my entire body tenses.

“No. Tell me this isn’t happening.”

Oh. Shit.

I turn just as Jake steps into view, his expression hard, his gaze flicking between Grant and me. I don’t have time to prepare a nonchalant remark.

Because the moment my brother’s jaw clenches, I already know we’re about to have a problem.

Chapter 18 – Kenzie

Jake is furious.

I see it in the way his jaw clenches, in the way his fists tighten at his sides, in the way his entire body is practically vibrating with anger.

I know my brother. This isn’t the kind of anger that flares up and burns out. This is the kind that simmers, builds, destroys.

He levels me with a look so sharp I almost feel it. “Tell me I’m wrong, Kenz.”

I lift my chin. “I don’t owe you an explanation.”

Wrong answer.

Jake scoffs, shaking his head like he can’t believe what he’s hearing. “You don’t owe me an explanation? You’re my little sister, and you’re flirting with my coach. What else are you doing—sleeping with him?”

Behind me, Grant is silent.

Not stepping in. Not interfering. Just standing there, calm as ever, watching this unfold like he’s letting me fight my own battles.

And I appreciate it. I do. But right now, I don’t need his patience. I need my brother to back the hell off.

I cross my arms. “It’s none of your damn business, Jake.”

His head jerks back like I just slapped him. “Like hell it isn’t!”

His words bounce off the empty rink walls—sharp, impossible to ignore.

And suddenly, I realize how many people are probably still lingering nearby, how many ears might be hearing this entire conversation.

But Jake doesn’t care. Because right now it’s just him and me.

And from the way his chest rises and falls with each angry breath? He’s not letting this go. Jake’s glare shifts to Grant, his anger rolling off him in waves.

“She’s twenty-six. You’re forty. What the hell are you thinking?”

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