Page 83 of Heart Check
“No—well, okay, a little—”
He holds up a hand, and I fall silent out of surprise. “I was too focused on my own game,” he says, and I get the feeling he’s talking about way more than I know. “You helped me realize it. Thank you.”
I clear my throat. “Well, whatever you realized, it paid off. You played… amazing. I take back everything I said.”
His eyes darken with intensity. “What?”
It’s almost impossible to keep my voice light when I’mthinking of how much he deserves this win, how my own insecurities almost allowed Noah to keep us apart, how close we came to missing this moment together. But there will be time for that. So I just say, “You might have adozengood years left in you.”
The corner of his mouth twitches. My eyes dip to follow it, and my breath shortens.
“Um… I’m gonna…” Marissa’s edging back a step at a time, but I don’t even turn to look at her. All my attention is on Dawson in his hockey uniform as he closes the distance between us.
“Can we talk, Harper?” he says. “We can go anywhere. I’m sure you’ve had enough of this rink for one night. I just want to sort things out. Because I really, really like you.”
Those dark eyes on mine, reminding me of secrets spilled in the dark.
His tousled hair and the heat of a kiss after the best date of my life. A night I never wanted to end.
Hidden dimples, tucked away with the rest of his vulnerabilities, just waiting for it to be safe enough for them to peek out.
He’s just won the most important game of his career so far. There’s a scout hovering right behind him. Two coaches and a dozen teammates. Scores of adoring classmates.
And he wants to talk tome.
I tilt my head up to maintain eye contact as we get very close together.
I want to talk to him all night. About everything I’ve been thinking and regretting and realizing. How I was never ashamed of him, just insecure about myself.
But conversations can wait. He’s shown me everything I need to know. Right now, all I want to do is show him I like him, too. That I’m in this if he is.
So I stand on my tiptoes and wrap my arms around his neck. His hands instinctively go to my waist, pulling me close. When I tip my face up, it’s with a smile. And finally, his dimples peek out, right before our smiles meet.
The first time we kissed, it was impulsive and life-changing. The second time, I knew it would be impossible to get him out of my system.
And this one—the third—has all the softness of a promise.
The whole school’s watching, hockey fans surrounding us in a sea of blue. When Dawson’s hand comes up to cup my cheek, whoops and hollers ring out around us.
I don’t care. I want them to know.
In this perfect moment, pennants fluttering above us, wintry chill in the air, cheers of joy echoing from walls newly christened with victory—there’s nowhere I’d rather be.
