Page 52 of Slap Shot Daddies

My own turbulent relationship with my ex-wife is proof enough that not everything is picture-perfect behind closed doors, like a fractured mirror reflecting a distorted image.

Still, the thought of her flying back to some ultra-religious, conservative family that doesn’t understand her makes my chest tight, like a vice squeezing my heart.

I don’t like it, and the discomfort gnaws at me like an insistent itch. I want to know why she doesn’t want to go. But I also know she won’t just tell me, her silence as impenetrable as a locked chest.

Kenzie is independent and fiercely so, like a lone wolf prowling the wilderness. She won’t let anyone in unless she wants to. I sigh, rolling onto my side and staring at the phone in my hand.

Five a.m. That’s when I’ll see her next, when the world is still draped in the quiet embrace of dawn. I close my eyes and let the exhaustion pull me under.

I dream of running side by side with Kenzie, feeling her warmth next to mine, watching her look up at me with those big, dark eyes that hold a universe of mysteries, and wishing, even just for a second, that she’d let me in, like a glimpse of sunlight breaking through the clouds.

When I wake, the early morning sun hovers low in the sky, a radiant orb of gold casting its glow over the sprawling city skyline. Its brilliance nearly blinds me as I navigate the quiet streets.

At this hour, the roads are mostly deserted, with only the occasional car gliding past, their headlights flickering off as the light of dawn fully embraces the city.

The crisp, cool air seeps in through the window I’ve slightly cracked open, carrying with it the earthy fragrance of dew-kissed grass and freshly turned soil.

A flutter of nerves dances in my stomach. It’s an unusual sensation for me. Unsettling, even.

I rarely get nervous. But this time, I understand why. I like Kenzie. And spending the morning alone with her is like a gentle thaw, softening the hardened edges of my typically gruff demeanor more than I’d like to admit.

My grip tightens on the steering wheel as I swallow down the lump of anticipation lodged in my throat, easing the car to a stop in front of her place. The street is serene and still, the only sound the soft purr of my engine idling beneath me.

Reaching for my phone, I quickly type out a message.

>> I'm here.

A mere minute passes before the door swings open, and my stomach twists with a mixture of excitement and nervousness.

Kenzie steps outside, and for a moment, I forget how to breathe. She's wearing a matching athletic set, sleek black leggings hugging her legs and a fitted sports bra that reveals a sliver of her toned stomach between the fabric.

Her long, dark hair is intricately braided down her back, and her skin possesses a radiant glow in the gentle embrace of the early morning light.

She looks like one of those ethereal Instagram models I often see online, the kind that mesmerize and captivate countless admirers. And right now? I completely understand why.

She climbs into the car, and before she even settles into the seat, I lean over and gently cup her face, drawing her into a deep, lingering kiss.

Kenzie gasps softly against my lips, her body momentarily freezing before she relaxes, melting into the kiss and returning it with equal fervor.

When I pull away, her cheeks are flushed a vivid shade of red, and her breath comes in shaky, uneven bursts. I can't help but smirk. "Good morning, sunshine."

She clears her throat, crossing her arms and turning her gaze towards the window, clearly flustered. "You're silly."

I chuckle, shifting the car into drive. "You love it."

The rest of the drive is wrapped in a comfortable silence. I guide us out of the bustling city, watching as the towering skyline gradually fades away behind us.

The roads stretch out into expansive open land, and the dense woods surrounding Minneapolis envelop us, creating a serene escape from the urban chaos.

I pull into a little parking area at the entrance of a sprawling nature reserve, where the air is cool and still beneath the towering, leafy canopy of ancient trees.

The scent of damp earth mingles with the sharp tang of pine, filling my lungs with each breath as we step onto the well-trodden dirt trail, our shoes crunching rhythmically against the gravelly path.

Kenzie stretches her arms high above her head, rolling her shoulders with a fluid grace that catches my eye. Her leggings cling to her form, accentuating her curves, and I have to force myself to look away, focusing instead on the trail ahead.

I set a steady pace, and she matches it effortlessly, her breaths soft and measured beside me, a gentle rhythm in the quiet surroundings.

“So,” I inquire, glancing over at her with curiosity, “why are you heading to Ohio?”

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