Page 9

CHAPTER EIGHT

Braden

I push off on my skateboard, feeling the pavement's texture rumbling beneath my feet as I glide toward the rink.

I need this time to think. Kenzie...

Even her name sends a tightening sensation through my chest, and I almost lose my balance when my thoughts begin to wander too deeply.

I quickly kick my foot out, regaining my stability.

I like her. Maybe too much already.

She’s stubborn, incredibly intelligent, and so damn genuine in a way that most people just aren't.

She doesn’t throw herself at me like the puck bunnies do, and I respect that immensely.

But she's also afraid. Terrified, actually, of what happened that night and what it might mean.

I understand. Her parents sound like they’re as strict as military drill sergeants. They had probably been trying to control her with old-fashioned, black-and-white rules since she was a child, the kind that makes a person feel guilty for desiring more than the conventional fairytale ending.

But her running out on us? That part hurt.

I push faster, the wind nipping at my cheeks as I skate through a quiet park. The fallen leaves crunch beneath my wheels, releasing the rich scent of damp earth all around me.

I need to devise a way to show her that we could make this work.

And I think I know just how to do it.

I pause at an empty bench beside a tranquil duck pond, wisps of my breath swirling in the crisp morning air like tiny clouds.

The water mirrors the soft light of dawn, casting gentle ripples that dance gracefully across its surface.

I pull my worn notebook from my backpack, flipping to a pristine page, and tap my pen thoughtfully against it, mesmerized by the rhythmic motion of the water.

What do I say?

Kenzie isn’t the type to be swayed by clichéd pickup lines or extravagant displays meant to impress.

Her mind is practical, razor-sharp, always cutting through the nonsense. Yet, I sense that beneath her pragmatic exterior, she longs for something genuine. Something that assures her we truly see her for who she is.

I press the pen firmly to the paper.

Kenzie,

You ran before we could speak,

Left a shadow in the streets,

Like a whisper lost to the night,

Or a candle’s snuffed-out light.

But, did you know that when you smile,

It brings joy to us all for a long while?

And, that your laugh is a joyful glimmer,

which sounds like spring breaking through winter?

And, please know that when you leave,

It makes us all grieve,

For the warmth you’ve brought with you,

In your absence grows frigid and blue,

And with our hearts now blown,

What are we to do alone?

We don’t know what has scared you off more:

Whether our affection has made you run straight from your core,

But one thing’s clear and known for sure...

Even if that night was a bit of a blur…

Something’s left you frightened, stunned, and unsure.

So, Kenzie, please do know this: You don’t have to run.

I exhale slowly, feeling my heart thump a little more vigorously than I'd prefer, a testament to the weight of my words.

Yeah. This feels right.

I stow my notebook back in my bag and make my way to the nearest drugstore. There, I select a simple black picture frame, modest yet elegant, just enough to serve its purpose.

With the frame tucked securely under my arm, I head toward the ice rink, anticipation building within me as I prepare to present this heartfelt gesture to her.

I don’t tell the other guys about the poem.

Not because I think they’d make fun of me, though, okay, maybe a little bit because of that.

But more importantly, because I promised them I’d take the lead on this.

Kenzie requires a gentle, nuanced approach, and I'm convinced I'm the best man for the job.

Ambrose and Reggie rolled their eyes when I laid out my plan, yet they eventually came around. Ambrose, with his gruff demeanor and brooding intensity, is definitely not the right person to approach her first.

His presence is too overwhelming, and she's already acting like she's on edge around him. As for Reggie, he exudes confidence and charm in spades, but I suspect Kenzie needs something more substantial than just lighthearted flirting right now.

I'm the sensitive one, the one who can earn her trust. And, truth be told, I enjoy being the person she confides in.

I can't help but smirk to myself, shaking my head as I imagine either of those two attempting to write a poem.

Ambrose would likely grunt out a terse haiku, while Reggie would concoct a limerick about whiskey and love, dripping with cleverness.

I chuckle quietly, gripping the picture frame tighter as I glide through the bustling streets on my skateboard, kicking up speed with each push.

Kenzie has no idea what she's getting into with us, but I’m determined to ensure she discovers exactly what we're all about.

The rink gradually comes into view, and I instinctively kick the tail of my skateboard up, deftly catching it as I transition onto the sidewalk.

As I step through the entrance, the crisp scent of freshly resurfaced ice mingling with the rubbery aroma of skate guards fills my lungs.

I navigate around a few early staff members, nodding in acknowledgment but keeping my gaze firmly fixed ahead.

My heart quickens its tempo with each stride, thumping in rhythm with my mounting nerves.

Kenzie’s office looms in my thoughts.

Under my arm, I shift the frame slightly, my fingers grazing the cool, smooth edges of the glass. Doubts swirl in my mind, this could be a foolish endeavor, or perhaps, the most brilliant one I've ever conceived.

Regardless, there's no turning back now; I've committed to seeing this through.

Halting just outside her office door, I release a slow, measured breath. The faint rustling of papers from within sends a tight knot twisting in my stomach.

She's definitely in there.

I rap my knuckles twice against the door.

Silence hangs briefly.

Then, a voice calls from inside the office. “Come in.”

I push the door open, stepping inside with a mix of trepidation and resolve.

Kenzie glances up from her desk, her dark eyes widening slightly with surprise. She appears weary, shadows under her eyes hinting at a restless night. Perhaps she spent the night pondering us, just as I did.

Good.

A grin spreads across my face as I hold up the frame. "I made you something."

Her brows knit together in curiosity. “What is it?”

I advance, placing the frame gently on her desk.

Her gaze drops, eyes scanning the carefully chosen words enshrined behind the glass.

And then…I witness the moment her breath catches in her throat.

Her fingers, trembling slightly, reach out to trace the edge of the frame, and in that instant, I understand with absolute certainty that I've just secured my first victory.

Kenzie doesn’t just smile. She beams.

She lifts the frame, her eyes lingering on the inscribed words, before standing with a sense of purpose and moving to the wall beside her desk.

She pauses for just a heartbeat, contemplating the perfect spot, and then hangs it precisely where it will catch her eye every time she glances up from her work.

"That's perfect," I say, admiring the way it complements the space. "Adds some personality to this vet office."

“Thank you,” she says, her voice soft.

“It was nothing,” I say humbly.

She smiles at me. “Well, I don’t think it was nothing.”

“How are things going?” I ask her.

“Fine,” she says with a sigh. She settles back into her chair, stretching her fingers toward her keyboard with determination.

As soon as she presses a key, her lips compress into a thin line, betraying a flicker of discomfort.

"Hurts, huh?" I ask, cocking an eyebrow in concern.

Kenzie exhales sharply. "A little. It’s fine."

I move around her desk, gently nudging her chair away from the computer with a touch as light as a whisper. "Nah, it’s not. Let me help."

Her head tilts up, eyes narrowing slightly with a mix of skepticism and curiosity. "You want to type up my notes for me?"

I tap my temple with a knowing grin. "Don’t let the hockey fool you, sweetheart. I can type.”

She rolls her eyes, a hint of reluctant acceptance in her demeanor, but she doesn’t push me away when I take her place.

She gives me a detailed rundown of what needs to be entered, and I start typing.

Kenzie leans against the desk, her uninjured hand propping up her chin as she watches me intently. The sweet scent of her vanilla lotion wafts toward me, mingling with the faint antiseptic aroma of the clinic, creating an unexpectedly comforting blend.

The way she looks at me?

Goddamn.

It’s enough to make a guy forget his own name, lost in the depths of those captivating eyes.

Kenzie’s voice is a soft, lilting melody as she dictates notes to me, each word a gentle chord that my brain struggles to focus on.

It’s the way she’s looking at me, the warmth in her dark, expressive eyes, the way her teeth catch her bottom lip when I glance up, like a fleeting moment of vulnerability captured in time.

She doesn’t even notice when she shifts closer, her hip brushing against my shoulder, sending a ripple of awareness through me. The warmth of her body seeps into mine, a teasing, tantalizing whisper of what I could have if I just reached out and took it.

God, I want to reach for it.

“You’re surprisingly good at this,” she muses, her gaze following my fingers as they dance over the keyboard with practiced ease.

“I’m a man of many talents,” I reply smoothly, my voice infused with playful confidence as I shoot her a teasing grin.

Her lips quirk in a soft, almost secretive smile, but she doesn’t respond. Instead, she lifts a hand and tucks a strand of hair behind her ear in a way so endearingly charming it makes my stomach flip and twist in ways it shouldn’t.

Fuck!

I continue typing, but let my hand brush ever so lightly against hers on the desk. It’s a brief, feather-light contact, barely there, yet enough to send a delicious jolt through me.

She doesn’t pull away.

The tension between us is thick now, an electric current buzzing and crackling like an unspoken challenge in the air. I recall last night in vivid, technicolor detail, the way she melted under my touch, the way she whispered my name with a breathy, intoxicating intimacy…

I swallow hard, forcing myself to refocus on the screen.

If I stay here too long, I’m going to do something very unprofessional.

The notes are finished, standing as silent witnesses to the tension that hangs thickly in the room. I know I should leave. I should.

But I remain in her office chair, betraying my better judgment. Kenzie closes her laptop with a soft thud, shifting her weight from one foot to the other.

"Thanks for helping," she murmurs, her voice carrying a breathy quality that seems to linger in the air longer than it should.

"Anytime," I reply, my words stretching out as I linger just a moment too long. There's a palpable energy buzzing between us, like a live wire sparking in the silence.

She gazes at me, her eyes searching mine as if trying to solve a puzzle, deciding whether to push me away or draw me closer.

I stand, stretching slightly, feeling every muscle extend and contract. She mirrors my movements, stepping toward the door with a hesitant grace, her fingers curling around the handle with a mixture of resolve and uncertainty.

A smirk unfurls on my lips, quick and instinctive. Before she has the chance to pull the door open, I reach past her, my arm brushing against her, and, click .

I lock it, the sound echoing softly, yet with finality.

Kenzie’s breath catches, a sharp intake that seems to reverberate in the charged atmosphere. I turn back to her slowly, savoring the sight of her cheeks coloring with a delicate blush, her lips parting slightly in a mixture of surprise and anticipation.

"What are you doing?" she whispers, her voice barely more than a breath.

I don’t respond with words. Instead, I close the gap between us, my gaze intense and heated, as though the very air around us is thickening with the rising temperature. Then, I kiss her.

It’s not slow.

It’s not gentle.

It’s a claiming, a declaration.

She gasps softly, the sound mingling with the sudden rush of our shared breath, but then her hands find their way to my shirt, gripping it with a fervor that pulls me deeper into the kiss.

Her mouth is warm, impossibly soft, flavored with coffee and an essence that is purely, unmistakably Kenzie.

I press her back against the door, feeling the heat of her body against mine, the way she molds to me as if she was always meant to be there.

My hands roam over her body. I feel her writhe against me, her fingers tangling in my hair, tugging lightly as our kiss deepens. I groan softly against her lips, pressing her more firmly against the door.

My hands slide down her sides, gripping her hips and pulling her flush against me.

Kenzie breaks the kiss, gasping for air. Her eyes are dark, pupils dilated with desire.

"We shouldn't," she whispers, but her body betrays her words as she arches into me

"Tell me to stop," I murmur, trailing kisses along her jaw. "Tell me you don't want this.”

She whimpers, tilting her head to give me better access to her neck. "I can't," she admits breathlessly

I smirk against her skin, nipping lightly at her pulse point. "Then don't fight it, sweetheart.”

Her resolve crumbles.

I slip my fingers into her pants, my fingers dipping below the soft, wet fabric of her panties.

I feel how ready she is for me, and I tease her, swirling my finger right over the nub of her pleasure.

“Holy shit” she breathes, arching her back, gripping my shoulders.

I kiss her again, my tongue tangling with hers. Her breasts are crushed against my chest, her thighs rubbing against my leg.

I could bend her over the desk, take her right here, I realize. But as I look down at her, surrendering to her pleasure, I know that I want to be unselfish with her. I want this to be just about her.

“Braden, I’m so close,” she gasps out, her voice breathy.

“Then let’s get you there,” I whisper to her, increasing the movements of my fingers.

Her knees cave under her as her orgasm starts to build. She holds herself up from the desk with a shaking hand as I crest her over wave after wave of pleasure.

I press a hand over her mouth to cover the sounds of her release. She moans in my hand as I feel her gush all over my fingers.

My cock throbs in response. But I keep that to myself.

I kiss her again before leaving.

“See you Kenz,” I smile, opening the door and shutting it behind me without so much as another glance.

As I walk down the hallway, I realize with a little jolt, that I don’t feel restless for the first time in months.