Just Harper, me, and a box at the arena.
Harper’s lips twitch at the corners in the ghost of a smile. “I’m excited to rank the players on hotness alone.”
I love him, but I can’t say those words yet because he’ll flee like an injured bird that’s finally been set free.
“Many hot hockey players on this team,” I point out as I hurriedly usher him into the box.
Harper’s eyes flit over the entire room, inspecting the rows of leather seats as I check in with the concierge. Under my watchful eye, he grabs a cookie from the buffet and then tosses himself into a seat in the first row. Nibbling at the double chocolate cookie, his gaze lifts to mine when I finally join him.
“Seats are okay,” Harper mumbles around a mouthful of cookie.
“Just okay? How can I do better next time, my liege?”
Harper tilts his head, clearly thinking it over. Finally, he points his finger to the ice. “Down there so I can see their sweat up close. I could rest my palm against the glass and wait for one of them to fall in love with me. Like in romance novels. Our love story would be titledSeize the Puck. Get it? Because I have seizures.”
Over my dead body, will he ever sit closer than a box because absolutely no one but me is allowed to fall in love with him.
“I think I like having you in a box.”
Harper’s eyebrows dip in confusion. “Why?”
“Because I can do this.”
Harper grins against my lips when I kiss him, licking into his mouth to taste Harper and the cookie andperfection. His lips are so soft, so plush, and I can’t help but suck his bottom lip into my mouth, softly biting down until he gasps. His eyes are starry and glassy when I pull away, making me grin with satisfaction.
“Still rather be sitting down there?”
Harper blinks slowly as if acclimating to a new world. “I think you’re convincing me of the merits of box seats.”
I gently skim my fingers down his cheek, then use my thumb to gently tug down his bottom lip. “Don’t worry, you’ll be convinced by the end of the game.”
“Oh?” Harper’s eyes sparkle with delight.
I nod slowly and dip down to kiss him again. Harper lets out a barely audible sigh as we kiss, working his way even deeper into my heart. When I pull away, a soft smile tilts Harper’s lips up. Perfect.
“What do you know about hockey?” I ask.
Harper’s look is skittish. “I know there is a puck.”
“Perfect, you’re doing better than half the people in the crowd.”
I want to bottle Harper’s laugh forever, to carry it around when I need it most. Every time he laughs, it feels like I won a championship ring. Like something I worked so hard to attain is finally mine, and it’s so easy to make him laugh, just by being myself. Nothing has ever been so easy with someone before. Even when he’s spitting and clawing at me, it’s profoundly easy to be enamored by Harper.
Harper finishes his cookie with a smack of his lips, then tangles his fingers with mine. Throughout the game, he asks me questions that I happily answer. Hockey was never really my thing, but a close friend of mine played in college, so I did my best to learn. He came to my games, and I went to his games. Only fair.
The great thing about hockey is that it moves fast. Nonstop action for almost two hours. Harper makes numerous trips to the buffet, eating actual food instead of just dessert. Seeing Harper eat satisfies the caveman in me, like I’ve done something right to get him to eat. Especially considering how he lives offof premade meals and cupcakes. When we finally live together, that’ll change. I’ll cook him any meal he wants, every day, for the rest of our lives.
By the time the game is over, Harper is visibly flagging with tiredness. I worry because Honey isn’t with us, and after all the research I did, I know that tiredness can sometimes lead to a seizure. If I ever told him that I did research, he’d probably go full feral kitten on me, but I honestly don't give a shit. His safety is now my number one concern for as long as he’ll allow it.
“Can we say goodbye to my friend real quick? Then we can head home?” I ask Harper softly.
Harper tugs his jacket tighter against himself with a pasted-on smile. “Sure. That’s why we’re here.”
“False,” I say loudly, needing to combat his train of thought. “We’re here so I can spoil you, make you feel special so that I can date you.”
Harper’s face turns ten shades of crimson. “Please, fuck off.”
Chuckling, I press a kiss to his flushed cheek, biting my lip hard when he swats me away. I hold his hand as we navigate our way through the maze of the arena. Thankfully, my name is on the list to get into the inner bowels that lead to the locker rooms. Shooting a text off to Liam, I tug Harper off to the side to wait for him.
