Page 319 of Wrong Pucking Player

She actually smiles, her eyes already showing a glimpse of hunger that’s aimed directly at Oscar. “I have something in mind.”

“Do you?”

“I do,” she admits.

I don’t think I can handle watching them flirt.

“I’m going to stand outside,” I announce. “Make sure we don’t deal with any surprises today.”

Oscar finally lets my hand go. He probably knows I’ve had enough and done the best I can muster right now.

“Are you going to be at the dinner?” Xandra surprisingly asks when I turn around. I have no choice but to look over my shoulder to see her curiosity.

She doesn’t look mad at the idea of me coming, but I’m apprehensive whether I should go now or not. She doesn’t remember me, so what service would I bring attending?

I could attend as a bodyguard… but…

“I was…”

“But?” she prompts.

Fighting the urge to chicken out, I turn around so I can give her my full attention.

“I don’t want to make you uncomfortable with my attendance,” I confess. “I may be present if Chief DeCosta wants me there as added security, but if you don’t want me there, I—”

“I want you there,” she admits before I can finish. “This is hard on all of us. It’s not fair that you get penalized because I don’t remember you. Obviously, that’s what Frankie wants, and I personally don’t like giving him what he desires in anything. At least, not without a fight… and some blackmail.”

Her words make me wonder what their dating life really was like. It seems different in comparison to the Xandra we’re used to seeing.

This Xandra is different.

Independent and cunning.

Not necessarily stoic but more calculative in her expression of love. At least to me.

“Anyway, come,” she encourages. “Maybe we’d get to dance with one another.”

Wouldn’t that be swell?

“I’d… like that,” I whisper. “Thank you, Xand— Kenzie.”

She frowns at my correction but doesn’t comment on it.

“I’ll be going.”

With a bow of my head, I turn away and head out. Sliding the door, I leave a tiny space that allows me to listen to her speak to Oscar.

“He really loves me, huh?” she mumbles.

“You sound annoyed.”

“I’m not trying to,” she admits. “This is frustrating.”

“I know, Kitten,” Oscar whispers.

“I’m mad at you, though.”

That makes Oscar chuckle.

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