Page 92 of Silver Fox Puck

Should close the distance, make this easier.

But I don’t.

I’ve spent too much time giving her space, waiting for her to be ready, letting her run when things got too real.

Not anymore.

So I stay where I am, my skates planted firm on the ice, letting the silence stretch between us.

She exhales, slow, measured. “I don’t know what I’m doing here.”

My jaw ticks.

Then why are you? The words sit on the tip of my tongue, but I don’t say them.

Instead, I just watch her.

Wait.

Let her feel the weight of this.

Let her be the one to fill the silence for once.

Her throat bobs with a swallow. Her fingers flex at her sides.

Still hesitant. Still fighting herself.

Then, finally, she lifts her chin.

“I just…” She swallows again, her voice lower this time. “I needed to see you.”

Something in my chest tightens. Because there it is. Not a confession. Not an apology. But a crack in her armor.

I see the fear in her eyes. Not fear of me. Not fear of Olivia. Or my past. Fear of what this means.

I rake a hand through my hair, exhaling hard. “Kenzie—”

“I don’t know how to do this,” she blurts, cutting me off.

Her voice wavers, but her eyes hold steady on mine. And fuck if that doesn’t hit me somewhere deep.

Because she means it.

She’s not playing games, not trying to push me away. She’s fighting herself.

Fighting this.

And for once? She’s staying.

I drag in a slow breath, my hands flexing at my sides.

“Neither do I.”

Her words hang in the cold air between us.

“I don’t know how to do this.”

For a second, neither of us moves.

---