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CHAPTER SIXTEEN

JACK

“ Y ou weren’t lying when you said you love chili,” I say with a smile that’s been plastered on my face the entire day.

Kendra picks up a corn chip and scoops a generous helping of chili and sour cream, swallowing it in one bite.

I haven’t touched my enchiladas since the server brought them out a couple of minutes ago, and I’m painfully aware of the reason—I can’t stop staring at the girl in front of me. Truth be told, I’ve never been able to tear my eyes from her. But seeing her step out in that dress earlier and knowing she’ll be wearing it while on my arm this Saturday? It’s safe to say the feelings I’ve always harbored for Kendra are no longer at risk, but certifiably fucked.

I know none of this is real to her, even if I find myself questioning the way her cheeks flush and her breath catches. She might find me attractive, but I know that’s as far as it goes. She’s fresh out of a relationship with an asshole, and I can’t say I blame her for wanting to find some fun after four years of bullshit.

Trouble is, I was sure I could be the one to give her what she wanted instead of searching for it via dating apps. Now all I can think about is not just showing her what it’s like to date the right type of guy. I want to be him.

“It’s superior. I could probably go for it multiple times a week if our nutritionist let me.” She picks up another chip and crunches down.

It’s only lunchtime, but the dim lighting in the restaurant I chose makes it feel like an evening date, the soft glow of the candles scattered around our table warming Kendra’s face.

She picks up her mocktail and takes a sip, pointing to my food. “You haven’t eaten any of yours, birthday boy.”

I reset my focus and look down at my plate. “Not that hungry.”

She cocks her head to the side, narrowing her eyes in my direction. “But you’re always hungry. What’s the matter?”

Oh, just falling for you. Nothing major.

I open my mouth to offer a completely different response when I’m interrupted by a vibration, followed by a text alert.

“Sorry,” I say, reaching into my jeans pocket. “I thought I put this on si …” I trail off when a name I haven’t seen in a while is on my home screen.

Kendra sits up straight and points to my phone as I continue to stare down at the short message that doesn’t need me to open it to read it in full.

“Who is it?”

I swallow thickly, my appetite now completely depleted. “My dad.”

Dad

Happy birthday, son. Proud of you.

She sets her spoon down, her face full of concern. As far as I’m aware, she doesn’t know anything about my family. Only that I have one sister, my mum is called Felicity, and Jon is both my coach and a future NHL Hall of Famer .

“By the look on your face, I’d say that message is out of the blue and only because it’s your birthday.”

My thumb hovers over the Delete button. I haven’t heard from Dad in months; the last time was when I signed my pro contract with the Blades. I didn’t miss him when he returned to the UK and I stayed in Seattle for college, and I miss him even less now. If my sister wasn’t still in contact with him, I’d have probably severed ties altogether.

I close out the message, but don’t delete it.

When I repocket my phone, Kendra is still watching me expectantly, and I take my first bite of food, attempting to eat something.

“You can talk to me, you know?” she asks.

There’s not much to tell when it comes to my dad. His existence is one I prefer to ignore, but that would also mean shutting out Kendra, and a larger part of me doesn’t want to do that.

I swallow my mouthful and chase it down with a sip of water.

“Sometimes, I’m tempted to ask Mum if she had an affair with the milkman since my dad and I couldn’t be any more different.”

“So, he’s an asshole?” she asks with a raised brow.

“Something like that, yeah. He’s not a regular fixture in my life, and I can’t say I’m sad about it. He gets on better with Darce than he ever did with me. He and Jon have had several run-ins, and I can’t say I blame Jon for hating him.”

I think back to the first Christmas following my parents’ divorce. I was in my first year of college, and Dad and Darcy had returned to Oxford. Mum had just started seeing Jon but was determined to spend the holidays with us. We were supposed to all stay together in our old house for few days, but the second we arrived, the tension was palpable. I could tell my dad was waiting for an opportunity to grill Mum on her new relationship. He said he wanted to try again with her, but really, it was more about his own ego and the fact that she’d moved on, which motivated his actions .

Just like Tyler with Kendra.

We didn’t even make it past Christmas Day. When Darcy and I were out of the house, seeing friends, Dad started verbally attacking Mum. He’d been harassing her for a while, but the only thing that stopped him? Jon’s fist to his face.

That was the turning point for me. The day I told myself I might have his DNA, but I’d never be like him.

“Jack.” Kendra breaks me from my thoughts as she reaches across the table and finds my hand, taking it in hers.

I look down at the connection between us and then back up at her. “Yeah, Hart?”

“Can I ask you something? No pressure to answer or anything.” Her voice is as soft as the palm in my hand.

“Anything,” I reply.

“You had loads of friends in college, but you only ever dated one person that I remember. I knew her from my class. She seemed really into you, but you broke it off with her after a few weeks. What’s the story there?”

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’ve always 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.

So far, her experience of me is the nice guy everyone knows. But given half a chance, I’d fucking love to show her not just what it felt like to date a guy who treated her right in public, but the way he would put his hands on her in private too.