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It’s possible Kendra thinks the brief relationship and abrupt ending with Olivia is down to the insecurities I have from my dad and his absence from my life.

But she’s wrong.

I adjust my hand, interlacing our fingers. I’m not sure how much of this right here is real for Kendra and if she feels the undeniable connection between us.

“Dating wasn’t in the cards for me at college. I spent way too much time playing and studying. I’m not the kind of guy who dates someone just to mess around, and neither was Olivia. I took her out a few times …” I pause, not wanting to add anything about us sleeping together. “It was fun, but I couldn’t offer her enough of my time.” My eyes find Kendra’s big brown irises. “And I realized after a few weeks that I kind of didn’t want to either. I wasn’t about to start leading her on, so I broke it off.”

Instinctively, I run my thumb across the top of her hand. “I’vealways trusted my gut—on the ice and off it. I couldn’t see anything more with Olivia, and I largely kept to myself for those four years. It was touch and go for my pro career. I didn’t get drafted like Tyler and a couple of others on the team. I had to put in the work.”

She offers me an appreciative smile. “I get that—like, I really do. I should be in the UK right now and not hovering around a strange city. You made the right decision with Olivia. I know she was gutted, but she’d probably thank you today.”

My face looks smug, and Kendra quirks a brow as she breaks away and leans back in her chair.

“She was gutted, was she?” I ask.

“Apparently, yeah. I don’t see it myself, but maybe she liked scones and called soccer football.”

I throw my head back and laugh. “She wasn’t a bratty little kitten—that’s for damn sure.”

Kendra’s shoulders straighten as she grabs a corn chip and raises her eyebrows, threatening to launch it at me. “I’m sorry, Morgan. What did you just call me?”

“Brat.” I lean on my forearms, taking a chip from her bowl and dipping it in the remaining chili and sour cream. My mouthful is huge, and I smile as I chew.

She holds up a hand. “No, no. Not that. Being called a brat is nothing new to me—my brother made sure of that. I’m referring to kitten.”

The chili is one of the spiciest I’ve ever had, but the flush spreading throughout my body has fuck all to do with it.

“Kitten,” I repeat. “You’re soft, fluffy, and cute on the outside, but you’re also likely to stomp your feet and show your claws at any second.”

The chip sails over to me, and I catch it, demolishing it in one bite.

“I was actually starting to like you. But now I kind of agree with Tyler.”

“Oh, fighting talk,” I muse.

“In all seriousness though, I’m nervous about his reaction on Saturday. What if he punches you?”

I shrug my shoulders and take a sip of water. “Then he does, and he’ll face the consequences. We aren’t doing anything wrong, and he knows it. As long as I can stop myself from landing one on him, it’ll be good.”

“You genuinely don’t care, do you?”

I roll my tongue along the roof of my mouth. “Yeah, I guess I am risking a long-term, loving friendship.”

Kendra snorts and slaps a palm over her mouth. “That was ladylike,” she groans.

When the server asks us about desserts, we both turn them down since one of us has eaten their body weight in chili and I barely touched my main course.

The check lands in front of me, and Kendra reaches for her purse.

“Unless you’re about to head to the bathroom with that”—I nod at her bag—“then don’t even think about it.”

Her eyes are challenging as she slowly unzips it.

Pulling out my Amex, I throw it over the check and lean back in my chair. From this angle, I notice how low her V-neck sweater drops, revealing part of her cleavage.

Yeah, now’s not a great time to get hard, Jack. Jesus.

I love it when she smiles, but when she turns bratty, I start to think about all the ways I could put that pouting mouth to good use. If she’d let me, the things I would do to this girl would border on criminal.