“I heard you guys won,” Harper says.
I glance at her, surprised she knew anything at all. She swears she hates hockey, but I caught her once at one of my games. I keep hoping that she’ll show up again.
“We did. Like I said, it was good.” I beam.
I scored two goals, which made it pretty damn spectacular after the previous week when I flubbed up.
“No time in the penalty box?” she asks, glancing at me.
A sly smile spreads across my face. “I didn’t say that.”
Harper laughs, and for the first time in a week, it actually feels like maybe we can get through this tonight.
“When are you coming to see me play?” I glance at her, hoping that she’ll show up next week. It’ll be another Friday game, which sucks that I’ll have to spend Saturday and Sunday back at the compound, but I know what I’m in for.
“Hockey is boring, Luca.”
I should be offended. “You don’t like watching guys fight on the ice?” My attention is on the road, but I want it to be on her. The fact that she’s even asking about hockey has me filled with curiosity and tingles of warmth.
Is this her way of trying to make peace after all that’s happened?
“I don’t like worrying that you’re going to get hurt,” she says.
My gaze meets hers briefly before I return my focus to the road. “You don’t have to worry about me, Harper. I can take care of myself on the ice. I’ve been playing for years.”
“I know,” she says and glances out the window. “I just don’t want to see you get hurt.”
“Before we met, did you ever like to watch guys fight on the ice? A lot of girls find it a real turn-on.” The number of puck bunnies who follow us from game to game is intense.
“Sorry, I’m not one of those girls who drools over guys fighting. I don’t like boxing or MMA, either.”
Fair enough. I’m glad she’s not a glutton for other people’s pain.
Silence fills the car, and she shifts again, her hands tapping nervously on her lap. “You should know, Luca, that I didn’t mention the engagement to my parents.”
Well, that’s going to make things hell awkward when my parents inevitably bring it up. “Why not?”
Harper shifts in the seat and sighs. “There is zero chance that they’d have gotten on board with coming tonight if I told them I’m engaged.”
“Even if you mentioned that he’s the most amazing guy you’ve ever met.”
She laughs and grins. “He’s modest too.”
“Seriously, Harper, what did you tell your parents about us?” We’re only a few minutes out from the compound and now we’re having this conversation.
My grip tightens on the steering wheel, and my shoulder muscles tighten. I can feel my muscles in my neck arguing with me to lighten my hold on the steering wheel, but it seems impossible.
“I mentioned that we met on campus, that you’ve been helping me in economics, tutoring me. They know you’re a year older, and I mentioned that we had dinner with your parents last weekend, and they want to get to know my parents.”
“Okay, all truths,” I say, realizing it will definitely be easier if we don’t have to create too many fabrications to keep track of.
“Anything else?” I ask. While she may not have mentioned the engagement, I’m curious how serious her parents think our relationship is at the moment.
“I told them that I really like you and to be nice.”
“All good things to mention.” I exhale nervously and glance at Harper. “Is Zeke coming tonight?”
“Yes, my son will be joining us for dinner. I tried gently suggesting that maybe we could find him a sitter for the evening, but they insisted that Zeke come, since he’s family, and my son.”
