Page 37 of Silver Fox Puck

"Wouldn’t want to make it obvious."

My mouth opens—probably to yell, probably to say something vicious.

But I don’t get the chance.

Because Jake walks back in and I have to pretend.

I smile.

I act normal.

And Grant Maddox?

Just won this round.

Jake’s presence fills the office, and he’s completely unaware that I’m currently five seconds away from committing murder.

I snap my mouth shut, force my shoulders to relax, and try to look less like I want to strangle his new assistant coach.

Grant?

Not struggling at all.

Nope.

Not even a little.

He looks perfectly at ease. Cool. Collected. Smug as hell. He can tell how much he’s messing with me. And he’s enjoying every second of it.

Bastard.

"Alright, Coach," Jake says, dropping into the chair across from Grant’s desk. "Let’s talk season strategy. Kenz, you good to hang for a bit?"

No. No, I am not.

Because if I sit in this office any longer, I might explode.

Or worse—I might actually get used to seeing Grant Maddox standing in my brother’s space.

I need out.

I need air.

I need to wipe that damn look off Grant’s face.

But Jake is staring at me, waiting for an answer.

So I plaster on a smile and shake my head. "Nah, I should get going. Just wanted to stop by and say hi."

Jake nods, already distracted as he leans back in his chair. "Cool. Call Allie later. She wants to see you."

I nod. "Will do."

Then—I make the mistake of glancing at Grant.

Big. Fucking. Mistake.

Because his muscled arms are still crossed over his chest, his expression still unreadable, but his eyes?

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