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G rant Maddox does not lose control. He doesn’t let emotions cloud his judgment. He doesn’t dwell on things that are over.

Except—her.

She’s still in my goddamn head. I step inside my apartment, toss my keys onto the counter, and roll my shoulders, trying to shake the tension that’s been coiled tight in my body since dinner.

I should be thinking about practice tomorrow.

About my players. My strategy. The upcoming season.

But instead? I’m thinking about her. Kenzie. Jake’s little sister.

The one woman I had no business touching.

The one woman who somehow still has my blood running hot and my mind tangled in knots.

I pour myself a whiskey, take a slow sip, and close my eyes.

It doesn’t help.

Because she’s everywhere.

That sharp mouth. That reckless smirk. The way she sat across from me tonight, daring me to react.

Like she wasn’t just pushing buttons—she was slamming her palm down on every single one.

And worse? The way my body responded to it. I exhale sharply, dragging a hand through my hair. This was supposed to be done.

That night in Denver? It was supposed to be the end of it. I made my rules clear. No strings. No expectations. And yet, here I am—standing in my own damn apartment, thinking about her like a fucking fool.

This has to stop.

I grip my whiskey glass tighter, letting the burn slide down my throat, but it does nothing to drown her out.

Kenzie Williams is not my problem.

She’s young. Reckless. Off-limits.

And yet—

She’s the only thing I can think about.

I exhale sharply, setting the glass down harder than necessary. The sound cuts through the silence—sharp, jarring.

I know better than this.

I’ve spent years building walls, setting boundaries, making sure nothing—no one—could get under my skin.

Lauren made sure of that. That marriage? That divorce? It taught me everything I needed to know.

Relationships complicate things. They give people power over you. They create weaknesses that can be exploited. And I swore I’d never put myself in that position again.

So why the hell is Kenzie still in my head? Somehow, she broke down the walls and barriers in one night.

Why the hell did I watch her at dinner like I was starving?

Why the hell did I want to follow her when she walked away?

I rub a hand down my face, frustration tightening in my ribs like a vice. She is not my problem. Not my focus.

I have Olivia.

I have this job.

I have too much at stake.

And I won’t risk it all just because some gorgeous, infuriating woman has a way of looking at me that makes me forget every damn rule I have.

I push off the counter, stripping off my shirt as I head to the bathroom.

A cold shower. That’s what I need.

Because this ends now. I turn on the water, brace my hands on the edge of the sink, and stare myself down in the mirror.

I’m not some kid, chasing a thrill. I’m a man who’s worked too damn hard to get here. I won’t screw that up. I won’t let her get under my skin.

I won’t.

Except—

I already did.

And I have no clue how to stop it.

***

I just need to focus on hockey.

That’s what I tell myself the next morning as I step into the rink. Fresh and smooth ice. Early practice. This is what I need.

I spent half the night telling myself that I could shut this thing with Kenzie down. That she was just a distraction. A one-time mistake. A moment I let get out of hand.

Today? I’ll prove it. I push through the doors, nod at a few of the guys already stretching, and head for my office.

And that’s when I see her.

Kenzie.

In my space. Again.

One hip cocked, water bottle in hand, talking to Jake like she’s been here a thousand times before. And honestly, she probably has. The way she exists here, it’s like she doesn’t even notice she’s screwing with my head.

But I know that she knows.

My pulse jumps because she’s wearing leggings and a cropped hoodie, and I hate that I notice. Hate that my gaze catches on her bare stomach before I force it back up.

I shouldn’t be looking at her like this.

Not here. Not now. Not at all.

But it’s too late.

She turns, locks eyes with me, and smirks.

I’m screwed. I should look away. I need to look away. But I don’t.

She’s standing there, smirking like she won something, and my body is betraying me all over again.

Jake says something to her, nudging her arm before heading toward the locker room.

Leaving her alone.

With me.

Kenzie doesn’t move. Neither do I. Too much silence. Too much weight.

Finally, she lifts her water bottle, takes a slow sip, and tilts her head. Like she’s daring me to break first.

I exhale sharply, forcing my feet forward, closing the distance whether I want to or not.

"Didn’t realize you had a permanent pass to the rink," I say, keeping my voice even.

Kenzie shrugs. "Perks of being a Williams."

I narrow my eyes. "That why you’re here? Just cashing in on perks?"

Her lips curve—not quite a smile, but damn close.

"You tell me, Silver Fox."

Holy hell. Every muscle in my body locks down. Because she’s playing with fire. Because I want to let her burn.

I step in closer, lowering my voice. "You should be careful with that name, Flight."

Kenzie leans in too, her breath warm against my skin. "And why’s that?"

Fuck. I don’t have an answer that doesn’t get me into trouble.

So instead, I shift my jaw, keep my body in check, and remind her—remind myself—why this can’t happen.

"I meant it, Flight." My voice is low. Warning. "No complications."

She should roll her eyes. Should throw some sarcastic quip at me and walk away. But she doesn’t. Instead, something flickers in her expression. Something fast and dangerous.

Then—just as she turns to leave—she glances back, lips curving, eyes flashing like she knows exactly what she’s doing.

"Too late, Silver Fox."

Then she’s gone.

And I’m standing there, pulse pounding, body coiled too tight, knowing damn well she’s right.

I’m fucking wrecked.