Page 128 of Wrong Pucking Player

“Kenzie?” He can’t fathom Armani saying that name. I can see it on his face. “It’s Xandra.”

“For you,” he eludes. “For me, it’s Kenzie.”With that, he’s moving to gather the food he bought us. “I’m gonna warm this up. Kenzie?”

“Yes?”

I look at him.

“Enjoy your dessert.”

“Okay.” I’m glad he reminded me cause the ice cream is beginning to melt already. “Thank you.”

“Mhm.”

I check on Wyatt, but he’s picking up the dinner boxes to place them on the counter behind me.There’s no way of checking his expression, but I decide if he can’t express what’s bothering him, I can’t keep prying and worrying about it.

We’re not kids anymore.

He has to be able to express his emotions.

That’s what helps me enjoy the dessert I’ve missed for almost ten years.

LET ME FEEL FREE

~MACKENZIE~

“I’m so full, I’m going to die.”

I can’t move. Can’t breathe.

Just deadweight on the not-so-comfy couch.

I swear I haven’t moved from my spot for thirty minutes, playing on Armani’s phone because he and Wyatt are arguing about hockey.

Offsides, shutouts, all terminology I couldn’t care less about.

I’m sure if I started talking medical jargon with Mikayla in front of them, they would be just as lost as I was.

Can’t complain, though.

It feels like some sort of achievement to be playing on a man’s phone.I’m surprised he was willing to let me use it. Giving me his code to take the photos earlier made my heart flutter just a little bit. In my two long-term relationships and the few short ones and hook-ups, a man has never given me the code to their phone.

Yet this man is giving me all access, as though he has nothing to hide.

A few texts even went through, and I’m sure he knew he was receiving messages from various people, yet he kept the conversation with Wyatt. When Wyatt pointed it out, Oscar shrugged as he always does to dismiss anything he wouldn’t bother countering. Instead, he made a simple comment.

If it’s important, Kenzie will let me know.

When I say I really love this Kenzie movement behind closed doors, I’m panty-wet loving it.

Though I’m not wearing underwear.

There’s just something so unique and rejuvenating about Armani that I’m attracted to. I’m not sure how to describe it. Being able to rely on a man without thinking about it. Having a level of independence but also knowing you can lean on him if things get complicated. His presence invites a sense of calm I hadn’t felt when I was a kid.

The oddest part of how he gives off a bit of Daddy energy.

Protective, caring, soft only with me.

We still have our arguments and grind each other’s gears, but those are just another type of enjoyment in our relationship.

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