Chapter 33
CHAPTER
THIRTY-THREE
HARPER
He takes me by the hand and walks us through checkpoints and doors like he owns the place, not a lanyard, credential, or ID shown.
“How do you do it?” I shouldn’t be amazed or shocked anymore, but I am. Doors are literally opened for him. This guy is connected. Sports. Hollywood. It’s like I’m hanging out with the quarterback and prom king. It’s an unfamiliar feeling because I wasn’t that girl back in the day. My high school days were full of new surroundings, grief, and trying to hide from the world. I talked to my therapist more than anyone and, well, that didn’t make me the popular girl.
“Do what? Because I’d prefer to show you rather than tell you.” His breath tickles my ear and goosebumps cover my arms at his innuendo. I feel the heat fill my face and I’m sure I’m blushing.
I slap his arm in fake admonishment. We approach a door that says Credentials only where two burley guys block the access.
“Hey guys, sorry about the loss tonight,” Julian says as he approaches.
The taller of the two responds. “Happens.” He half shrugs. “At least it wasn’t the Kings. Those assholes destroy a locker room when they win.”
Julian chuckles. “Sounds about right. Hey, this is Cartwright’s little sister, Harper. She wants to see him before he leaves.”
The other guard gives a skeptical appraisal as he looks me up and down, his eyes focusing on my jersey. “He kicked our ass.” He crosses his arms, blocking our entrance. His kind eyes soften his tough-guy act.
“Sorry, kinda.” I smile sweetly, batting my eyelashes.
Julian chides me. “No, you aren’t.”
“He’s still doing media, but you know the way,” the shorter guard tells Julian as he opens the door. His heavy New Jersey accent makes me giggle.
We walk down a back hallway past several doors that go to training rooms and offices. As we walk past the Demons’ dressing room, I’m surprised to hear music and laughter. They lost a game, but spirits seem to be high. Is that Jack singing some country song about breaking hearts? That guy is adorable. I can’t wait to check my social media feeds to see if I’m right.
“Rather go in there?” Julian asks, quirking his eyebrow at me and bumping shoulders.
I smile and take his arm. “I’ve got more than I can handle right here.”
We take another turn and are outside the visiting Renegades dressing room. The beats are pumping when Julian cracks the door open. With that smack down of a win, I’m not surprised.
“Wait here. I’ll let Lawson know where to find you. You okay for a minute?” He looks up and down the hall, but we’re alone.
“Yeah, fine, thanks.” I’ve spent more hours than I can count waiting in arena hallways like this. Does Julian think this is new for me, or is he being polite?
My phone vibrates in my bag, and I pull it out to find a text from Zac.
Going out with the boys. You’re invited when you get back to the city.
I’m tired, but enjoy yourself and I’ll take care of Noodle.
Is the girl you gave Harvard’s number to psycho?
I don’t think so.
Too bad. HAHAHA
“At least you’re dressed appropriately tonight.” Lawson picks me up and swings me around. He’s still in his sweaty gear, and between his skates and pads, he’s a giant.
“Eww, you stink” I squirm out of his arms. He kisses me on my head and gives me a Lawson look of approval.
“Hey, I’m glad I could see you tonight before we head out. I miss you, Harps. But you seem okay. You’re okay, right?” He gives me his caring-brother stare, and I ignore the sweat and smell for another hug. He spent half the day yesterday asking me the same thing.
“I’m good. Really. You seem to be bonding with your new team.”
“Yeah, it’s a change, but they’re good guys. They haven’t hazed me or anything.” Lawson is one of the most respected guys in hockey. I’m sure the younger guys are excited to play with him and learn from one of the greats. “I’m glad you weren’t alone tonight. You and Decker seem more friendly since last night.” He’s questioning me, and rightfully so. Thank goodness he's letting me talk instead of his usual overprotective inquisition.
I look down and consider how I want to answer that when the devil himself steps out of the dressing room. “Hey gorgeous, I see you found him. Great game, man. You were on fire.” Julian is all calm and relaxed as I’m twisted up trying to decide how to answer Lawson’s question.
Julian reaches for my hand, and I glance at Lawson’s face. He’s watching every move.
“Um, thanks. What’s going on here?” Lawson isn’t upset. I’d describe it as confused, with a sprinkle of uncertainty thrown in for good measure.
“Yeah, well.” I stumble over my racing thoughts. I’m not sure what to say. What is going on with us?
“Well, we’ve been hanging out a little, and honestly, I’d like it to be more,” Julian says matter-of-factly. Has he lost his mind? My brother is still hyped on adrenaline and carrying a hockey stick. He could kill him. Julian looks at me for approval and I’m stunned. He squeezes my hand, signaling he’s not done. “We’re friends for now. But Harper calls the shots. She knows where I stand.” Julian leans in, and Lawson mirrors the movement. “She’s amazing.”
Lawson looks between the two of us, processing what he said. “You like him?”
That’s a loaded question. My gaze falls on Julian, and the familiar warmth of affection blooms into an uncontrollable smile. I look at Lawson and give him a playful half shrug. “He’s alright.” Both men laugh at my horrible attempt at lying.
“Well, good luck,” he says to Julian. “She is amazing.” He looks at me and says, “And you know what to do.” I’m a little shocked and slightly disappointed there’s no macho bullshit threat of you hurt my sister, I’ll kill you . I know what to do. Do I? Is that the call me, and I’ll kill him message? Is it the follow your head, not your heart advice? Is he telling me to be careful? What do I know to do? I want to ask him what that means when he’s called into the dressing room.
“I gotta run.” He leans down and gives me a hug and a kiss on the cheek. “I love you, Harps. I’ll call you tomorrow.” My first question tomorrow will be clarity on what the hell I know what to do means.
I hold on a little longer, ignoring the sweat and smell. “Love you too.”
He holds his hand out to Julian. “Good seeing you, Decker. Treat her well.”
Julian shakes his hand. “I intend to. Stay safe.” Lawson nods and goes into the locker room, where he’s greeted with a hero’s welcome.
I turn to Julian and slap him on the chest. “What the hell was that?!?!” I’m not sure if I’m angry, confused, or scared, but whatever I’m feeling, it’s all Julian.
He takes my hand and holds it against his heart. “What? Am I a dirty little secret you wanted to keep hidden? Are you ashamed of me? Was I supposed to ask permission to date you? What was I supposed to do?” His teasing makes me question what I wanted him to say or do. I get lost looking into his mischievous blue eyes.
I give up. “Come on, I’m gonna let you take me home.” I go to walk back the way we came, and he stays in place. “What?”
“I meant everything I said. I want to be your friend. I mean, we’re already friends, but I want more than that, but it’s your call. You set the pace here. But I’m ready to move our story along. I’m not much of a slow-burn guy.” Obviously.
Open communication and maturity from a guy isn’t something I’m used to. Most of the guys I’ve dated leave me dissecting every sentence, weeding out the subtle gaslighting, and psychoanalyzing their intent. Then I agonize over what I could have done differently, leaving me emotionally drained. This straight shooting is refreshing. And off putting. I’m unsteady as I navigate these unfamiliar waters, but I’m excited about where this is heading.