“Kissed?”
“Yeah.” I nod. “And now we’re figuring out whatever this is between us, and now you’ll be gone and I’ll be here overthinking everything, and…and you might also overthink every?—”
“I’m not going anywhere.” His voice is gentle, but it doesn’t keep my cheeks from flooding with heat.
“You’re literally going to Boston,” I mutter like a sad little girl.
“You know what I mean.” He nudges me again. “I don’t bail when things matter. And this…” His hand brushes mine. Not a grab. Just enough of a squeeze to promise, “It matters.”
“But how do I know you’re not going to bail?”
He shrugs innocently. “Well…”
“I know, I know. I didn’t give you the chance to prove it years ago.” There I said it. I said the words so he didn’t have to.
“I was going to say you’ll just have to trust me.” He leans over and kisses me tenderly on the side of my head, his hand covering my thigh. “You just walked back into my life, Harp. If you think I’m going to let this go so easily now, then you don’t know me at all.”
My breath catches because I know he’s sincere. I can see it in the way he looks at me. I wish I could allow myself to simply trust fall into whatever this might become, but I’m scared. There’s a gigantic ten-year wall between us that is slowly dismantling thanks to Harrison’s patience, his gentleness when he’s with me, and his confirmation that Connor and I matter to him. But that doesn’t mean things won’t change. He could meet someone else.
Someone prettier.
Someone more responsible.
Someone who’s never been dishonest with him.
And then where does that leave me?
And more importantly, where does that leave Connor?
On the ice, a whistle blows and Connor hops over the boards again, skating like he owns the world. I watch him glide back onto the ice, his confidence soaring with every stride.
“God, it’s like watching a miniature version of you, the way he holds his stick and the fierce determination in his eyes,” I say with Harrison next to me. I can’t help but smile, a mix of pride and nostalgia swelling in my chest. “He’s so determined to be just like you. It’s like somewhere in his little soul…he knows.”
Harrison looks on with the same amount of pride, but he does so in silence. And then out of nowhere he says, “Promise me you won’t tell him.”
“What?” I turn my head and wait for his eyes to find mine.
“At least not until I’m with you,” he adds. “Please don’t tell him without me.”
Despite the fluttering anxiety in my stomach, I nod. “I promise.”
The tension in his shoulders eases just a fraction and there’s a fight in his eyes to hold back everything he’s feeling. “We can take our time,” I assure him. “When the moment is right, we’ll find the right way to do this. Together.”
He nods, inhaling a deep breath and letting it out. “Yeah. Okay.”
Connor swoops by again, this time getting too close to the goalie, who swats at him with the butt-end of his stick, sending Connor tumbling. “Whoa!” I shout, but he bounces back up, shaking himself off like a pro.
“Let’s go, bud! Keep your head up!” Harrison shouts, the words bursting from him before he probably even realizes he’s leaning over the railing, fully invested. The crowd cheers around us, but his focus is entirely on Connor. “The kid’s going to be a fucking star, Harp. You just wait.”
The second Connor steps out of the locker room, he launches himself at Harrison like a missile.
“DID YOU SEE MY GOAL? The top-shelf one? And the pass? And the part where that kid totally tripped me but I didn’t even fall because my balance is, like, superior?”
Harrison staggers back a step as Connor grabs both sides of his shirt, shaking him with excitement. “I saw all of it, bud,” he says, laughing. “Pretty sure the whole building saw all of it.”
Connor beams so big his helmet hair practically lifts. “Coach said I’m improving majorly. He said my stride looks like a real player now. He said?—”
“I’m sure he said a lot of things,” I cut in gently, because Connor hasn’t taken a breath since the locker room opened. “Let’s let Harrison breathe, okay?”
