Chapter 11 Dawson #2
I whirl to look at Harper. Everything from her full, pursed lips to her expressive, raised eyebrows seems designed to taunt me.
My face gets hot. “Not really. I can’t believe you got us trapped in here.” I’m already shivering, trying not to think about how long it’ll take for hypothermia to set in.
“Me?” Harper takes a step forward. “You’re the one who came in behind me. For ice? What, for one of your parties for the frat bros in training? If I die because of the hockey team, I swear to God—”
“At least we know how to have fun,” I cut in. Arguing with Harper distracts me from the creeping numbness in my fingers and toes. “And with the way this season’s going, I think we deserve to blow off some steam. Sabotage can get a guy down.”
Her mouth twists, eyes widening in something like hurt. I feel a little bad, but I’m too frustrated to fully regret what I said. I don’t really think it’s her who got Coach fired anymore, but she’s been snippy with me all night and I can’t resist firing back.
“You want to talk about sabotage?” She straightens up to her full height, though if she tried to punch me I’m not even sure she could reach my face. “Someone’s been review bombing my website. This job is nice and all, but it’s not going to come close to covering my college tuition, okay?”
“Someone’s been review bombing you?” I frown. “Wait, why?”
She squints at me. “Why do you think? Anyone come to mind who’s convinced I’ve ruined their life this year?”
Silence stretches between us for a moment while she narrows her eyes meaningfully. And then it hits me. “What the fuck? I’d never do something like that!”
“Really?” She squints at me. “This team is your life, Dawson. You’re telling me you wouldn’t do anything to defend it?”
“No!” My face is hot. “I promised I’d leave you alone. And I know we can save our team on our own merits, okay? I’d much rather spend my time training than backstabbing you.”
Harper studies me intently. “And it’s just a coincidence that all the negative reviews appeared right after I showed you my site?”
My stomach drops. Shit. The timing is definitely suspicious. “I swear, Harper. I don’t know what happened, but it wasn’t me.”
Harper’s narrowed eyes stare into my soul, and I hold my breath.
I really, really want this girl to believe me.
She must see the genuine shock on my face, though, because she says, “I believe you. I guess I didn’t actually think you were that soulless.
” I relax slightly. Until she adds, “But what about the rest of your team?”
“They wouldn’t do anything like that either.” Defending my team is an instinct, same as I would on the ice. But… would they?
I did mention the website to the team. Remembering the look on Noah’s face makes me frown.
Harper crosses her arms, not buying it. Maybe picking up on my own uncertainty. “I don’t expect you to take this seriously. Everyone in this school gives you everything you want. But some of us have to figure out our own path, okay? I have a lot riding on this business.”
My cheeks flame despite the freezing temperature in here. “Maybe I’ve had it easier than some people, but that doesn’t mean I haven’t worked my ass off. If I knew anything, I’d tell you, okay? No one deserves for their hard work to get messed up like that.”
Harper hesitates for a second before nodding, seeming to believe the defensive heat in my voice. “Yeah,” she says. “Exactly.”
Harper crosses her arms across her chest. Suddenly I’m very aware of how little her totally normal polo covers. There’s all that clavicle, her bare arms—practical for a shift in a warm restaurant when you’re on your feet, but that’s a lot of frostbite potential when you’re locked in a walk-in.
“What?” she asks. “Is there something on my face? Ketchup on my shirt?”
I avert my eyes, staring intently at the tubs of sour cream stacked behind Harper’s left ear. “You’re cold,” I say to the square foot of space over her shoulder.
“Obviously I’m cold. We’re in a fridge.” Her teeth chatter. “You can just say you’re cold, you know. You don’t have to do the strong jock thing.”
“Maybe you aren’t aware, but hockey’s played on ice. This is nothing.” But I’m not gonna lie, I’m really wishing I’d grabbed my sweatshirt before heading into the back.
Silence stretches between us for one long beat.
The fridge ticks in the quiet, pumping out more cold air.
My toes passed tingling and went all the way to numb a long time ago, and tucking my fingers under my armpits is a poor substitute for gloves.
It’s so cold, it almost feels hot. Can you still skate if you lose a toe to frostbite?
Harper lets out a frustrated sigh, and her breath turns into a puffy cloud. I try not to think about what that means for the temperature in this place. “What’re we going to do?” she asks, voice smaller than I’ve ever heard it.
The freezing air must be penetrating my brain stem, because I blurt out, “We could… keep each other warm.”
Her head whips up, eyes widening. For a minute, I get caught in their irises—the green, the gold, the caramel.
And then I blink back into the moment, breaking the spell. Dawson, you absolute hoser.
“I don’t mean it in a weird way,” I rush to say. “Just… penguins.”
Her eyes sparkle, and it’s almost enough to make me feel better about what an ass I’m making of myself. “Penguins?” she asks.
“They huddle. For warmth.”
Keep digging, Dawson.
Her mouth twitches like she wants to laugh, and it draws my attention back to that slightly fuller lower lip, the one she bites when she’s concentrating…
“A few weeks ago you were so convinced I was untrustworthy that you tried to get me fired. Sure you want to huddle for warmth with someone like that?”
Yeah, there she is again with that impeccable timing. “Forget about it,” I say.
But she takes a step forward, arms still wrapped around herself. I have to force myself to stay very, very still. Like I’m dealing with a skittish wild animal.
Or a girl who hates hockey players.
“Do you really think it’ll help?” Harper asks.
I shrug. “When the alternative is for sure freezing? Worth a shot.”
“Well.” Harper clears her throat. “We don’t know how long we’re going to be in here…”
I slide to the floor, patting the ground beside me and trying to ignore the weird butterflies in my chest. But Harper just stares at me.
“Would you like an engraved invitation?”
Her mouth twitches again. “I’d accept a Google Calendar invite. I’m mostly paperless these days.”
She takes another tentative step toward me before collapsing in one graceless heap. Yeah, not an athlete.
I hold my breath as she leans into my side. Lift an arm and wrap it around her. Rest it there, barely exerting any pressure, waiting for her to relax into me.
Somehow we fit together so naturally—my arm around her shoulders, her curves pressed into my side.
My hand rests on her arm, which feels a little more intimate than I planned, like we’re watching a movie together and I just pulled the corniest trick in the book.
I rub my hand up and down to try to generate some warmth, but that only makes me hyperaware of how soft her skin is.
And there’s some sort of perfume at the nape of her neck.
Subtle. Just for the lucky guy who gets close enough.
Eventually I have to clear my throat and break the silence, or I’m afraid I might… I’m not sure what I’m afraid of. But if this moment stretches out any longer, whatever I do won’t be anything smart.
“I really am sorry about your business,” I blurt. “The reviews and everything. I get what it means to you.” She doesn’t say anything, so I take a deep breath and hurtle forward. “I can relate, okay? I need a hockey scholarship for college. You know my grades aren’t the best.”
She shifts uncomfortably. “I didn’t know that. I mean, I knew about the grades, but—not that you wanted to leave Hamilton Lakes.”
“Yeah, well, now you do.” I clear my throat. “I just want you to know I’d never jeopardize someone else’s chances to get out and do what they want. I know you don’t trust me, but I swear. I wouldn’t lie about something like this.”
Harper turns to study me, eyes flicking across my face as if trying to make sure I’m being honest. Her face tilted up to mine makes me catch my breath. With her pressed into my side like this, I can feel her heart pounding.
She bites her bottom lip like she does when she’s concentrating, and I can’t look away. If I were trapped with any other girl—if she were this close to me, looking at me like this—
Well, I’d think she wanted me to kiss her.
Maybe I’m imagining it, but I think Harper’s pulse speeds up. Maybe she does want me to kiss her.
I lean in, just a little. If we’re going to die from hypothermia, there’s no way for the embarrassment to get me if I’m misreading the moment. Her eyes, wide and green, lock on mine and her breath catches. I wonder if those pink lips are as soft as they look—
Our heads jerk up at the loud desuctioning of the door. Sam and Alex stand there, gaping at Harper and I cuddled together on the floor.
“Um. Ryan sent us for ice?”