Page 16 of Slap Shot Daddies

As I look up, our eyes lock, a silent exchange that feels both intense and unexpected.

Kenzie quickly averts her gaze, her cheeks blooming with a soft pink flush, like the first light of dawn.

Interesting.

I haven’t been able to shake the image of Kenzie from my mind since that unforgettable party. Her hands had explored me, her mouth had tasted mine, and our bodies had moved in sync.

I let out a sharp breath, trying to force my scattered thoughts back into focus.

That night was meant to be a fleeting, one-time encounter.

I assumed we were on the same wavelength, but now she’s treating me like I’m some kind of toxic waste.

Reggie, still wearing an expression of guilt, gently nudges her with his elbow. “C’mon, let us take you,” he offers, his voice laced with concern.

Kenzie’s face twists into a scowl. “I can drive myself,” she insists, her voice edged with defiance.

I lean in slightly, lowering my voice so only she can hear the words. “You need to stop acting all weird about things,” I murmur, hoping to break through the tension.

Her lips part slightly, a subtle movement that seems almost involuntary, and her eyes flick to mine for the briefest moment,a fleeting connection that holds a world of unspoken tension, before she swallows hard, as if trying to steady herself.

“It was just sex,” I remind her, my voice soft, keeping my tone deliberately neutral.

I allow a hint of teasing to creep into the words. It dances at the edges of the conversation, a delicate balance between nonchalance and provocation.

Her jaw tightens, a visible sign of her resolve hardening like steel. “Exactly,” she replies, her voice clipped and firm, though there’s an undercurrent of something more beneath the surface.

I smirk, the expression curving my lips into a knowing grin, but she refuses to meet my gaze. Instead, she pivots sharply, turning her attention to the others with a determined stance.

“Seriously, I can handle this myself,” she asserts, her tone carrying a mix of defiance and self-reliance.

Reggie crosses his arms over his chest, a skeptical posture that underscores his doubt. “With one working hand?” he questions, his voice tinged with incredulity.

Kenzie opens her mouth to respond, my eyes falling to her lips once more, but then she scowls, frustration and determination battling for dominance in her expression.

Damn it. The unspoken words hang in the air between us, a testament to the struggle within her.

Kenzie stubbornly holds out for another minute, her determination shining through like a beacon. But eventually, with an exasperated sigh that seems to echo in the room, she relents.

“Fine. But this isn’t some ‘helpless damsel’ situation, okay?” Her voice carries a hint of defiance, like a warrior ready for battle.

“Absolutely,” Braden replies with a mischievous grin, his eyes twinkling with humor. “Just three noble knights escortinga very cranky and injured lady to the hospital.” His lighthearted teasing is met with a sharp elbow to his side.

Coach gives us a firm nod, his expression serious yet understanding. “Take her. We need to strategize before the game anyway.” His voice resonates with authority.

Kenzie grumbles the entire way out, her voice a low murmur of protests about not needing a babysitter.

As we step away from the ice, the hallway stretches ahead, its fluorescent lights casting long shadows.

When she stumbles slightly, the echo of her misstep reverberates through the corridor. Braden, quick as a flash, catches her elbow and steadies her, his gaze meeting hers with a pointed look.

“Not a damsel, huh?” he quips, his tone both teasing and concerned.

She glares at him, her eyes sharp and fiery, but the tension between them softens as we reach my car. In the the parking area, I notice something new: a shift in her demeanor.

She’s no longer avoiding my eyes. Now her gaze is meeting mine with a newfound openness that speaks volumes.

The moment we pull up to the bustling emergency room, Kenzie tries to dismiss us as if we were nothing more than stray dogs lingering on the curb. "Okay, thanks, bye," she says, her voice a mixture of gratitude and exasperation.

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