Chapter 30 Ryan
The post-game chatter filled the arena, parents and kids milling around, the air thick with a mix of exhaustion and adrenaline.
My eyes were locked on Harper, who stood just outside the dressing room, a coffee cup in hand.
She was waiting for Connor, but I couldn’t help noticing the opposing coach sauntering up to her.
I recognized the type immediately–too confident, too eager, and leaning far too close as he spoke. My jaw clenched, and my hands tightened into fists at my sides. She didn’t need me to swoop in and save her, but the way this guy smirked was enough to send irritation crackling through me.
Harper shifted her weight, tilting her head as if trying to decide whether to be polite or tell him off. The forced smile on her lips only stoked the fire in my chest. I pushed off the wall, ready to make my presence known, but before I could take a step, her voice cut through the noise.
“No thanks,” she said, a sharp edge creeping into her voice. “And maybe next time, you should focus on teaching your kids not to play dirty instead of hitting on the moms.”
The guy blinked, his smug expression slipping as Harper turned on her heel and strode away from him like the badass she was. She didn’t even glance back, her head held high as she made a beeline for me.
I tried not to laugh, my lips twitching as she approached. “Everything okay?” I asked, casually sliding my hands into my pockets.
“Just fine,” she said, though a faint blush crept up her neck. She stopped in front of me, her eyes sparkling with a mix of irritation and amusement.
“Nice work,” I said with a grin, tilting my head toward the now-flustered coach.
Her mouth curved up in a small, satisfied smile. “He had it coming.”
I stepped closer, lowering my voice. “You’re amazing, you know that?”
She rolled her eyes but couldn’t hide the smile tugging at her lips. “Don’t start.”
“What? I’m just telling the truth.” I leaned in slightly, brushing my hand lightly against her arm. “And for the record, you handled that way better than I would’ve.”
She glanced up at me, her blush deepening. “Thanks for not storming over.”
“Almost did,” I admitted, a little sheepishly. “I can’t stand that guy. Matt. He’s such a dick. But I knew you had it covered.”
Our eyes met, and for a moment, the noise of the arena faded into the background. She shifted closer, her shoulder brushing against mine.
“It was a good game today,” I said softly, more to keep her talking than anything else.
She nodded, her gaze drifting to the ice. “Yeah, it was.”
The air between us felt charged, the kind of quiet that wasn’t awkward but full of something unspoken. Her shoulder still brushed against mine, neither of us moving away. I wanted to reach for her, to close the last bit of space between us, but now wasn’t the moment.
Before I could decide, she turned back to me, her lips parting slightly like she was about to say something–
Then the dressing room door flew open.
Connor burst out, his gear still half on, interrupting whatever might have come next. “Mom! Did you see that goal I got?”
Harper turned to him, her voice warm. “I saw it, bud. You were amazing.”
“Highlight reel material,” I added, ruffling his hair.
Connor beamed, practically vibrating with excitement, before darting back into the dressing room. Harper turned back to me, her expression softer now.
“Thanks for looking out for him,” she said quietly, her voice laced with something I couldn’t quite place.
“Always,” I replied, my voice low and steady.
Just then, TK’s mom, Julie, approached us, her coat draped over her arm and a warm smile lighting up her face.
“Harper, Ryan, hi! I just wanted to let you know I’m hosting a celebratory sleepover for the team at my place tonight.
The kids are already talking about it. Connor’s invited of course, if that works for you. ”
Harper’s face lit up. “Oh, that’s so sweet of you, Julie. Connor would love that. Thank you!”
“Great! Just drop him off whenever. We’ve got pizza, movies, and a ton of energy to burn.”
Harper let out a soft chuckle. “You’re seriously brave. That many ten-year-old boys under one roof?” She shook her head in mock horror. “You got a game plan for surviving that chaos?”
Julie laughed. “Oh, absolutely. Step one: load them up on pizza. Step two: let them burn it off wrestling in the basement. Step three: pretend I don’t hear it.”
Harper grinned. “Genius. I’ll have to remember that next time Connor has friends over.”
Julie winked. “Or just send him to my place and save yourself the headache.”
Harper chuckled. “Deal.”
With a final wave, Julie disappeared into the crowd, and Harper turned back to me, her expression soft. “Looks like I’m officially kid-free tonight.”
I grinned, leaning in slightly. “In that case, how about you meet Shane and me at the pub later? Drinks on me.”
Her eyes sparkled, and she smirked. “Sounds like a plan, Coach.”
“Good,” I said, brushing a quick kiss against her temple before anyone could see. “See you later, then.”
The pub was warm and lively, a stark contrast to the chill February air outside.
Shane and I had claimed a split booth near the back, nursing our drinks and picking at a basket of fries.
The hum of conversation and laughter filled the space, mingling with the clink of glasses and the occasional cheer from a group huddled around a TV, watching the tail end of a hockey game.
Strings of dim lights were looped along the rustic wooden beams, casting a cozy glow over the room.
“I’m just saying,” Shane started, gesturing with his beer bottle for emphasis. “If you’d put Connor on the right wing in the second period, we might not have needed that miracle pass in the third.”
“Connor can handle himself wherever he’s placed,” I shot back, my voice light but firm. “But thanks for the coaching tips. I’ll be sure to put them in the suggestion box.”
Shane chuckled, shaking his head. “I’m just trying to make you look good, Barzal. That’s all.”
Before I could reply, the pub door swung open, letting in a gust of cold air and a ripple of laughter from outside. Instinctively, my gaze flicked toward the entrance–and my grip on my beer tightened.
Harper and Nina stepped inside, bringing a different kind of energy with them.
Harper had swapped her hockey-game casuals for a loose sweater that looked impossibly soft and dark jeans that hugged her in a way that made it damn near impossible to look anywhere else.
Her hair fell loose around her shoulders, catching the light just enough to make my breath hitch.
Nina, ever the contrast, walked beside her with her coat draped over her arm, her sharp gaze sweeping the room like she was assessing threats–or potential victims.
I lifted a hand to wave them over, and Harper’s smile in return sent warmth surging through me despite the cold beer in my hand. She nudged Nina forward, and together, they wove through the crowd toward us.
As they got closer, I couldn’t help but stand, shoving my hands into my pockets to keep myself from pulling Harper into me right then and there.
“Ladies,” I greeted, my tone light, my gaze locked on Harper.
“Coaches,” she teased, her voice low enough that only I could hear.
Before I could respond, Nina brushed past her and dropped into the booth across from Shane. “You two aren’t nearly as subtle as you think,” she said, stealing one of his fries without breaking eye contact. “It’s almost… cute. In a nauseating kind of way.”
Harper shot her a look. “Jealousy isn’t a good look on you,” she said, laughing.
Shane snorted. “Careful, Harp. She’ll unleash that terrifying glare she’s famous for.
“Terrifying?” Nina arched an eyebrow, leveling him with a pointed look. “I’ll show you terrifying.”
While their back and forth kept going, Harper glanced at me out of the corner of her eye, the faintest curve to her mouth.
I let my knee bump hers under the table–small, quick, gone before anyone could call it out.
Her smile deepened, just enough to make my chest feel too tight, and I had to look away before I gave the whole game away.
The waitress approached with menus, offering a friendly smile. “Can I get you ladies something to drink?”
Harper glanced up. “Red wine, please.”
“Whiskey sour,” Nina added, not missing a beat.
The waitress nodded, then turned to me and Shane. I barely registered what he ordered, my focus still on Harper, who was watching me like she knew exactly what she was doing.
The conversation flowed easily as Harper and Shane recapped some of the more ridiculous moments of the game–Shane, of course, couldn’t resist tossing in a jab at my coaching strategy, while Harper defended Connor like a proud mom.
“And what about when Connor threw that cross-ice pass in the third?” Harper leaned forward, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “I mean, he’s only ten, but he nailed it like he’s been playing for twenty years.”
Shane raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, well, he’d be even better if his coach let him play right wing more often.”
I groaned. “You’re not going to let this go, are you?”
“Not a chance.”
Nina rolled her eyes, leaning back in her seat. “I don’t know what’s worse–Shane thinking he’s always right or Ryan pretending to humour him.”
Harper laughed, her voice warm and genuine. “I think it’s a tie.”
The waitress returned with their drinks, and we all grabbed the menus, debating appetizers. Just as I was about to make my case for wings, the coach from the arena, Matt, came sauntering over.
Drunk. Smug. A walking reminder of exactly the kind of guy who didn’t know how to take no for an answer.
I’d noticed him earlier, loud and sloppy with his buddies at the bar, knocking back whiskey like water. But I hadn’t expected him to drag his sorry ass over to our table.
His hair was dishevelled, and his tie hung loose around his neck, as if he’d barely managed to keep himself together long enough to get here.