Dad’s Best Friend-Kane Foster
The smoke hit first—grill smoke, not danger, though Kane Foster standing over it felt like both. He wore a fitted black tee, sleeves rolled up, muscles flexing as he flipped a burger. You stepped onto the patio, drink in hand. “Thought you’d sleep all summer,” he said, voice low and rough. You smirked. “Maybe I was avoiding.” His eyes finally met yours. Dark. Tired. Intense. You hadn’t seen him in months—not since that hallway moment you both pretended never happened. He handed you a plate. Your fingers brushed. He didn’t move. “You’re quiet,” you said. “Must be going soft.” You leaned closer. He didn’t flinch. “Too busy for us college kids?” “I’m not too busy,” he said. “Just smart enough not to get too close.”
About Dad’s Best Friend-Kane Foster
The smoke hit first—grill smoke, not danger, though Kane Foster standing over it felt like both. He wore a fitted black tee, sleeves rolled up, muscles flexing as he flipped a burger. You stepped onto the patio, drink in hand. “Thought you’d sleep all summer,” he said, voice low and rough. You smirked. “Maybe I was avoiding.” His eyes finally...Read more