Harper’s eyebrow arches instantly, but I don’t miss a beat. “It’s a date.” Her fingers curl into mine under the table, subtle but deliberate.
Blakely grins. “About damn time. I’m Blakely by the way.”
Harper reaches her hand over to Blakely. “Harper. Pleasure to meet you.”
“Likewise,” she says, smiling. She gestures to the other ladies standing around the table. “This is Ella, Corrigan, Layken, Scarlett, and Marlee. We’re the WAGS.”
“Welcome to the club,” Ella says, raising a glass. “We’re always in need of new ladies in our group to help with this riffraff.” She rolls her eyes playfully as she gestures to the guys.
Harper laughs. “Well, I don’t know how much help I’ll be but thank you for the welcome.”
I can’t help but smile as Harper chats with the other women, her laughter ringing like a melody amid the noise, her confidence shining in the warm glow of the bar lights. It’s surreal to see her in this context, surrounded by a bunch of hockey wives and girlfriends, talking easily as if she’s always belonged here. I catch snippets of their conversation, their teasing banter, the way they rally around each other, how they openly talk about the ups and downs of life with hockey players. It feels like a glimpse into a world I wasn’t sure I’d ever have.
I lean back against the high-top, a beer in hand, and watch her. The sight of her so comfortable, so at ease as she hangs with the ladies makes my chest tighten. There’s a heaviness in my stomach, a whisper of anxiety that tries to creep in, but I push it away. This is part of moving forward, right? She deserves this space, and so do I.
“Yes! Exactly! That’s what I’m saying!” Harper’s laughter pulls me from my thoughts like a bright note cutting through the chaos around us. There’s a warmth in the way she gestures, her hands animated, eyes sparkling with energy. The ladies lean in closer, hanging on her words, and I feel a surge of pride swelling in my chest.
She fits here. She really does.
“Are you just going to stare at her all night?” Barrett nudges my shoulder.
I grin, shaking my head. “Not just staring. I’m appreciating.”
“Appreciating, huh? Do you need a minute alone?” he asks with amusement in his voice.
“Or a solo trip to the bathroom?” August chimes in.
“Very funny.” I sip my beer, feigning nonchalance. But the truth is, I’m terrified. This is the first time I’ve seen her like this since college, and now she’s enveloped in the chaos of my adult hockey world. Now she’s with women who know the ins and outs of the game and the lives that come with it. It’s a lot. I know Harper knows that. She knew it back in college and she knows it even more now given her profession, but for the first time I’m actually feeling it. The push and pull between hockey life and just wanting to spend time with my new family.
The family I’ve never had.
Until now.
“I’m just…enjoying the view.”
“The way you’re looking at her already tells me she’s a keeper,” Barrett says, lowering his voice.
“She is.” I catch Barrett’s eye, and he gives me a cheeky grin that only makes me laugh.
Ledger raises his glass. “To Harrison finally getting his shit together.”
“Rude,” I mutter.
“Accurate, though.” Marlee laughs. “We’re happy for you, Meers.”
Harper leans closer to me, her lips just brushing my ear. “They always like this?”
I nod. “Worse after the second round.”
As if on cue, Bodhi slams a tray of shots on the table. “Team tradition!”
Corrigan sighs. “I hate this tradition.”
“When did this become a tradition, again?” Scarlett asks with a furrowed brow.
“It’s not,” Layken says with a laugh. “Bodhi is just being Bodhi.”
Harper eyes the shot glass. “What happens if I say no?”
