Page 53 of Heart Check
I laugh. Who knew Dawson was so good at taking jokes at his own expense?
“Dawson! Hey, you didn’t tell us you were coming to this!” Ryan skids to a stop in front of us, grabbing the railing to slow himself down. Alex is shortly behind him, and he wraps his arms around Ryan’s waist and almost brings them both toppling down.
“Wouldn’t miss it,” Dawson says. “You guys remember Harper, right?”
They look over at me with matching grins. I get the feeling my name has come up before, and I can only hope it wasn’t all bad. “We have met a few times,” Ryan says with an affectionate elbow jab into Dawson’s ribs. “Your necklace got me a date next week, by the way. Nice. You should put that in the advertisements.”
I have to suppress a smile. “Maybe I will.”
“We need to talk about how you somehow have all that jewelry-making talentandcan play the meanest game of foosball Hamilton Lakes has ever seen.” Alex shakes his head in mock wonder, eyes wide.
“Plus you put Dawson in his place about five times a day.” Ryan smirks. “Harper Braedon, you’re a legend in our book. Welcome to the ice.”
Now I can’t contain my smile. I turn to Dawson smugly. “So much for enemy territory, huh?”
“I’m beginning to think introducing you all is going to be a very big mistake,” he grumbles. But that dimple gives him away.
“Probably!” Alex beams.
Dawson glances sideways at me and frowns. “Hot chocolate?”
Before I can say anything, he’s putting the guards back on his skates and hobbling off at frankly impressive speed toward the concession stand. It’s only then that I realize I’m tucking my hands under my armpits to keep them warm.
“He’s like that,” Ryan says with a grin. “Knows you’re cold or hungry or burnt out at practice before you are.”
Alex nods. “If only he could take that awareness and apply it to himself. The guy never knows when to stop. He’s always on the grind.”
“Sounds like your coaches work you hard.” All those early morning practices and extra training sessions Dawson’s had to rearrange his diner shift to account for.
“I mean, yeah.” Ryan shrugs. “But that’s about half of what motivates Dawson.”
“You only giving his dad credit for half the motivation?” Alex whistles. “That might be significantly underselling things.”
“Mr. Dawson?” I frown. The whole jock last name thing is kind of cumbersome at times like this. “He’s always seemed pretty nice to me.”
Ryan shrugs. “Sure. As long as you’re not talking about hockey. Then nice isn’t exactly in your vocabulary, if you’re the caliber of player that he and Dawson are.”
Alex nods. “Yeah. If that’s you, it’s more about, um—”
“Winning?”
“Redemption?”
“Pride?”
They go back and forth like that for a minute, until I’m sure they’ve totally forgotten I’m there. These guys clearly know each other backward and forward, on and off the ice. I glance over at the concession stand, where Dawson’s finishing up paying, and my smile only grows at the way those broad shoulders are bent seriously over the counter. I’m glad he has friends like this who have his back on the team.
“Anyway,” Alex finally says, bringing my attention back, “I’m glad he’s taking a night off to chill with you.”
Ryan holds out his hand for a fist bump, and I hesitantly knock my knuckles against his. “Yeah,” he says. “Everyone wants to hang out with Dawson, but Dawson doesn’t hang out with everybody.”
My cheeks warm. His words add one more fragile plank to the bridge Dawson and I are building, the one that saysthis is realandI want to know you, too.
“Honestly, you were the one person whowasn’ton Team Dawson, as far as we could tell.” Alex grins. “So this was just about the most inconceivable combination on our bingo card. But we ship it.”
Ryan nods, face solemn. “Even more than Catradora.”
Before I can ask what acatradorais, Dawson returns, holding out a cup of hot chocolate. I immediately bury my face in it so I can hide the blood rushing to my cheeks. The more I learn about Dawson, the more I understand him. The more Ilikehim. He’s not as full of himself as I always thought.Maybe his bravado is just a front for relentless hustle, for the self-protection oftryingto be the best.
