Page 90 of Don't Puck His Best Friend
"It is right," I say with conviction. "We're right."
We stay tangled together on the couch for a long time after that, trading kisses and quiet words. No sex tonight, just pure contentment in each other’s company. The TV continues on unwatched, Rex eventually gives up on judging us and falls back asleep, and somewhere in the middle of it all, I think about how completely my life has changed in just a few months.
Hockey used to be everything. Grades, future plans, staying focused—those were the pillars of my existence. But Harper has become a pillar too, maybe the most important one. She doesn't diminish the other things I care about; she enhances them. Makes me want to be better at all of it.
"What are you thinking?" she asks, her fingers tracing idle patterns on my chest.
"That I'm the luckiest guy alive."
She laughs softly. "That's very smooth."
"I'm serious. Before you, everything was..." I search for the right word. "Compartmentalized. Hockey in one box, school in another, social life in another. But you blur all those lines. You make me want to blur them."
"Is that a good thing?"
"The best thing." I kiss her forehead. Then I hesitate.
“What were you going to say?” she murmurs, searching my face.
I swallow. "I was scared after everything with Liam that I'd lose you before I ever really had you. But you chose me, and… I want to remind you that I don't take that lightly."
Her expression shifts slightly, something flickering across her face at the mention of Liam's name. "Cole, about Liam—"
"We don't have to talk about him."
"No, it’s okay." She sits up a bit, making sure I'm looking at her. "What happened with him... it's in the past. Completely. Sometimes I see him at these things and there's this moment of awkwardness, but that's all it is. History. You're my present and my future."
I want to believe her completely. And mostly, I do. But I can't shake the memory of that look between them at the party—brief but loaded.
"I trust you," I say, because it's true. Whatever lingering connection might exist between Harper and Liam, I trust her to honor what we have.
"Good. Because you're stuck with me now. I said I love you, so there's no backing out."
"Wouldn't dream of it."
Thanksgiving break comes faster than expected. Harper meets my family, and just like I predicted, my mom loves her immediately. My sister peppers her with questions about everything from her favorite books to her intentions with her brother, and Harper handles it all with grace and humor.
On the drive back to campus, Harper's hand finds mine over the center console.
"Your family is wonderful," she says.
"They loved you."
"Your sister threatened to hurt me if I break your heart."
"She's protective."
"It's sweet. You're all sweet." She squeezes my hand. "Thank you for bringing me."
"Thank you for coming. This was..." I glance at her, finding the words. "This was important to me. Having you meet them."
"It’s important to me too."
We drive in comfortable silence for a while, the highway stretching out ahead of us. I'm thinking about the future—not in the vague way I used to, but in concrete terms. Graduation, what comes after, where Harper fits into all of it. The answers are starting to form, and they all include her.
"Cole?" she says after a while.
"Yeah?"
