“He doesn’t need to breathe,” Connor says, shrugging. “He’s basically a hockey machine.”
Harrison grins down at him. “I’ll take it.”
We walk through the arena lobby together, Connor practically glued to his side, peppering him with questions.
“Do you think I should practice my wrist shot more? Should I work out this summer? When did you know you were good enough for pro hockey? What if I never get good enough? What if?—”
“Connor,” Harrison interrupts gently, ruffling his hair. “One question at a time, bud. And maybe…maybe save some questions for tomorrow? I’m pretty sure your mom is all hockey-d out. Look at her,” he teases, gesturing to me. “I think she needs food and a nap.”
I sigh, playing along. “A nap sounds heavenly right now.”
Connor laughs, skipping between us like a kid half his age. “Fine. But I get shotgun in Harrison’s car!”
“We’re going to the same place,” I remind him, pulling my keys from my purse.
“Still counts!”
Outside, the sun is shining brightly and the air is warm against my skin. The parking lot is buzzing with parents and players, all riding the high of a win, and Connor darts toward Harrison’s SUV.
He throws open the passenger door and hops in, chattering about line changes to absolutely no one because the car is still off. I’m about to step over to my car when Harrison’s hand slides gently around my wrist.
“Hey,” he says quietly.
He guides me just behind the SUV, out of sight from the stream of people exiting the arena. The sounds slip away as he steps close enough that I can see the gray flecks in his eyes and the stubble on his jaw.
“What are you?—”
Before I can finish, he tucks a strand of hair behind my ear, leans in, and kisses me.
Quick, but not rushed.
Warm enough to melt every anxious thought I had during the game.
His mouth brushes mine once…then again, slower. More deliberate. Like he’s telling me something without saying it. When he pulls back, his forehead rests against mine. His breath is soft and warm.
“Still here,” he murmurs. “Not going anywhere.”
The words land deep. Right in that terrified place in my chest that’s been bracing for him to change his mind. I swallow, and the back of my eyes sting. “You shouldn’t say things like that if you don’t mean them.”
“I don’t say things I don’t mean.” He lifts my chin with a finger, eyes steady on mine. “Especially to you. You know that.”
There’s a shout from inside the car.
“ARE YOU GUYS KISSING AGAIN?” Connor’s voice cracks on the wordkissing, like he’s equal parts horrified and delighted. I let out a strangled laugh and bury my face in Harrison’s chest as he groans.
“The kid’s got no shame,” I say. “We should go rescue him.”
“In a second.” Harrison presses one more kiss to my forehead, quick and soft, but sure. “Just wanted you to know I heard you. And I’m not running away. I just have a job to do, okay?”
I nod, smiling through the surprising butterflies fluttering through my chest. “Yeah. Okay.”
I fallinto a deep sleep on the couch. The kind that wraps around me like a warm blanket. My dreams are filled with the echoes of laughter and the sound of Connor’s voice cheering for Harrison, the crisp air of the rink, and the sweet warmth of Harrison’s kisses.
But then, a sound breaks through the comfort of my slumber, my phone buzzing insistently on the nightstand. I squint at the screen through the haze of sleep, blinking rapidly as I try to make sense of the messages flooding in.
Harrison
Are you awake?
