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I pull back, my eyes wide with shock. “Please tell me you’re joking.”

“Um … no, I literally have no idea what it is.” Her brows knit together.

I tip my chin at her plate. “It’s probably easier if you try it.”

She scrunches up her nose, which makes her even fucking cuter. Like a kitten refusing to follow instructions. “Do you dip it in the jam?”

A laugh bubbles out of me as I clasp my hands under my chin. “What, like a fry in ketchup?”

“Yeah?” She shrugs her shoulders, lifting her deep brown eyes to mine for the first time.

Jesus.

We maintain eye contact as I reach out with one hand and pull her plate toward me. Picking up the knife set on the side, I cut the still-warm scone in half. “These are English scones. You can get them plain, with currants, or flavored with cheese.”

She motions to the scone. “I’ve only been to England a couple of times, and that was when we watched my dad play. We never ate those when I was there.”

I flick my gaze up to hers and find her watching me intently. “Back home, there’s this ongoing debate about whether you should put the cream on before the jam or the other way around.”

“Which way do you take it?” Kendra asks.

To prevent my laughter, I bite on the inside of my cheek. There are so many ways I could turn this conversation in a completely different direction.

I spread cream and then jam on one half and do the opposite on the other. And when I slide the plate back her way, this time, she reaches out and brings it in front of her.

“Why don’t you settle opinions for a nation and tell me?” I reply.

The second she brings one half to her lips, I instantly regret throwing on gray sweatpants to come down here. I’ll freely admit that I’ve thought about how Kendra’s mouth would feel more times than I probably should have, but letting her know that with my dick is not ideal.

She swallows down her first mouthful and twists her lips to the side.

“Good?” I ask.

“Hmm …” She rests her cheek in her left palm and then picks up the untouched half in her other hand, this one with the cream underneath. “I need to compare before I give you my decision.”

When she finishes her second bite, she sets the remainder of the half down and looks intensely at the plate.

“I like how seriously you’re taking this,” I say.

For the first time since I sat down, she smiles, and even if it’s only brief, it makes me feel good, knowing I’ve distracted her from whatever is responsible for the circles under her eyes.

“It feels kind of weird to have the jam on top of the cream.” She points at the second half she bit into and pins her bottom lip between her teeth. “I’m saying jam first, cream second.”

I sit back in my chair and run a hand through my hair, and she tracks my movements.

Is it possible Kendra Hart finds me attractive?

“Good answer,” I reply.

She breathes out a sigh of relief as she crosses her legs underneath the table, picking up her phone in the process. “Okay, phew. That was a lot of pressure for a Wednesday morning.”

I nod at the phone in her hand, remembering her reaction to the calculator. “Wanna talk about it?”

She pockets her mobile and brings her hands to the table in front of her, twisting them together. “No offense, Jack, but why do you care? I’m the enemy, aren’t I?”

I can’t stop the way my brows pull together. I don’t like her thinking my issues with Tyler extend to her. Because of her? Yeah. But again, how the fuck am I supposed to tell Kendra that I’ve harbored a crush on her for years?

“You aren’t the enemy, Kendra,” I reply.