Chapter 25
The pub was half-full, the warm scent of fried food and beer lingering in the air, Christmas lights strung along the beams overhead. Shane leaned back in the booth across from me, boots stretched out under the table, already on his second pint like he had all the time in the world.
“So, how’s the team in Oakville doing?” he asked, taking a sip of his beer.
It had been a while since he’d brought them up. The last time we’d talked about Oakville, he’d made some offhand joke I hadn’t taken well–snapping at him before I could stop myself. I wasn’t proud of it, and judging by the way he’d steered clear of the topic ever since, neither was he.
“They’re doing great,” I said, rolling the condensation from my glass between my palms. “On Christmas break now, so I won't be heading out there again until the end of February. They’ve got an away trip in January with Kyle, and I’m sitting that one out. I’ll catch the next one.”
Shane smirked, shaking his head. “What are they gonna do without you? Their offence is gonna tank.”
I chuckled. “Kyle’s a great coach.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Shane waved his beer glass at me.
“He’s solid. Hell of a player back in the day, too.
But let’s be real–he was always more of a defensive forward.
You’re the guy with all the offensive plays and highlight reel goals.
Without you running that end of things, they’re gonna have to work twice as hard to put pucks in the net. ”
I only half-smiled, feeling the truth in his words but not dwelling on it.
My phone buzzed against the table. I glanced down to see a new message.
Harper: Hey, we’re heading to the big hill for sledding with Nina and Liam. Wanna come?
Before I could even think about replying, Shane returned with two fresh beers and leaned over my shoulder like he owned the place. “Ooh, sledding? Hell yeah. Let’s finish these and go.”
I blinked up at him. “You want to go sledding?”
“Why not? I’m amazing at it,” he said, sliding back into his seat and grabbing his pint. “Besides, any chance to annoy Nina I can get, I take.”
I shook my head, laughing under my breath. “You’re unbelievable.”
I picked up my phone and texted back.
Ryan: Meet you there.
Then I finished my beer.
The parking lot was already dotted with cars when Shane and I pulled up to the hill.
The air was alive with the chatter of kids, the crunch of boots on snow, and the occasional whoop of someone zooming down the hill.
It was the kind of winter day that made you forget how damn cold it was–if you were a kid, anyway.
My eyes scanned for Harper almost instantly.
I spotted her by the fire pit, bundled in a puffy jacket, a knit hat pulled low over her ears.
Her cheeks were flushed from the cold, her scarf tucked up over her chin as she stood with Nina.
They were laughing about something, coffee cups in hand, and it struck me how effortlessly beautiful she looked, even in the freezing weather.
I should have known seeing her would hit me like this.
“Cute setup,” Shane muttered, pulling his gloves on.
“Yeah,” I said absently, too focused on Harper to bother with a proper response.
Off to the side, Connor and Liam were working on what looked like a jump made from packed snow, shouting back and forth with boundless energy.
When Nina noticed us walking over, her smile faltered, eyebrows knitting together in irritation. “Seriously, Harper? You didn’t mention he was coming,” she muttered, loud enough for Shane to hear.
Shane, never one to miss an opportunity, flashed her his signature smirk. “Aw, come on, Neens. Don’t act so excited to see me. You say that like I’m not the life of the party.”
Nina rolled her eyes so hard I thought she might strain something. “Yeah, I’m thrilled. Don’t you have anything better to do Shane?”
“Not when I could be gracing you with my presence,” he shot back smoothly, clearly enjoying himself.
Harper hid a grin behind her coffee cup, glancing at me as if to say, this is normal. I fought the urge to laugh. Nina was practically fuming, while Shane looked like he was having the time of his life.
Harper’s gaze found mine again, her smile widening.
Yeah, I was screwed.
“Hey,” she said softly, walking over to me.
“Hey,” I replied, unable to keep the grin off my face.
She tilted her head toward the fire pit. “We’re trying to get a fire going, but neither of us is exactly an expert.”
I raised a brow. “You’re telling me two capable women can’t figure out a little fire?”
She laughed, the sound warm and familiar. “We’re more ‘sit by the fire with drinks’ types than ‘build the fire’ types.”
“Let me take a look,” I offered, stepping past her to inspect the sad pile of kindling.
Her laugh still lingered in my chest as I crouched down.
“Perfect timing,” Nina said, clearly over her annoyance with Shane–for now, at least. She pulled out a thermos and a bottle of peppermint schnapps from her bag. “We’re due for a refill. Hot chocolate with a kick, anyone?”
Shane grinned. “I’d love some.”
Nina narrowed her eyes at him, as if debating whether he actually deserved it. After a pause, she sighed dramatically and poured a mug for him, then another for me. “Don’t say I never did anything for you,” she muttered as she handed Shane his drink.
“Noted,” Shane replied with a smirk, taking a sip. “You’re a hero, Nina. Truly.”
Rolling her eyes, Nina topped off her own mug, then Harper’s, before capping the thermos. “You’re lucky it’s freezing out, or I’d make you earn it.”
Harper chuckled, taking her drink and nudging me lightly with her elbow. That tiny touch shouldn’t have mattered, but it did.
“I’m glad you’re here,” she said quietly.
“Thanks, me too,” I said, my voice coming out rougher than I intended.
I took a sip of the drink, the warmth spreading through me, the minty sweetness hitting just right against the cold. Maybe it was the schnapps, or maybe it was Harper, either way, though, I felt warmer than I should in the freezing air.
While I crouched to light the fire, Harper stayed close, her presence a quiet distraction. She sipped her drink, occasionally glancing at me with that same playful sparkle in her eyes from the other day.
Once the fire was roaring, Shane grabbed his cup and wandered over to the boys, who were still hard at work on their jump. Harper stayed beside me, her eyes fixed on the flames.
“You’ve got some skills,” she said, nudging my arm again.
“Years of camping,” I replied, keeping my gaze on her as she turned toward me. “Figured I’d come prepared to impress you.”
Her cheeks turned pink. Not just from the cold. “Well, consider me impressed.”
I wanted to kiss her. The thought came fast and unexpected, tightening in my chest. Instead, I shifted, taking another sip of my drink, letting the moment settle around us.
We stood there in comfortable silence until Nina called over, holding her own drink. “Are you two joining the kids, or are you just gonna stand there basking in the glow of the fire?”
Harper laughed, her breath visible in the cold air. “Let’s go.”
And just like that, she grabbed my hand–only for a second, only to tug me forward–but the ghost of it lingered as we made our way toward the hill, the fire crackling warmly behind us.
The snow crunched under our boots, the hill glowing under the spill of light from the fire and the sun above.
I glanced around–at the slope dotted with sleds, at the frost glittering on the trees–and then my hand found the small of her back.
I guided her a little closer, leaning down until my breath brushed her ear.
“I want to see you tonight,” I murmured, low enough that it was only for her.
Her head tilted toward me, eyes catching mine with a spark of mischief. She didn’t say a word–just gave me that playful, knowing look and a small nod.
We reached the top of the hill where Shane, Nina, and the boys were waiting, their laughter and shouts cutting through the cold night air.
The rest of the afternoon felt like one long, happy blur of laughter and snow.
Shane and I teamed up against Connor and Liam for races down the hill.
It wasn’t even close–we let the boys win every time, but it didn’t matter.
Their cheers of victory and the looks of pure joy on their faces were worth every fake defeat.
Harper and Nina joined in the fun, taking turns racing the boys and each other. At one point, Harper grabbed a sled and waved me over with a mischievous grin. “You’re riding with me,” she said, patting the seat in front of her.
I didn’t need to be asked twice. She sat down first, and I slid in behind her, wrapping my arms around her waist to keep her steady. She was laughing before we even started moving, her voice carrying above the chatter around us.
As we shot down the hill, the icy wind whipped past us, yet all I could focus on was how she felt pressed against me. Her laughter was infectious, and for a moment, it felt like there was no one else in the world but us.
We hit a small bump near the bottom of the hill, and the sled tipped sideways.
We tumbled into the snow in a heap, arms and legs tangled together.
Harper was laughing–light and unrestrained, the kind of sound that tumbled out of her in a rush and made you want to hear it again–so hard she could barely catch her breath, her cheeks flushed and her eyes bright.
“Smooth driving, Ryan,” she gasped, brushing snow out of her hair.
“Hey, you’re the one who was steering,” I shot back, grinning.
Neither of us moved right away. The snow was cold, but the warmth between us made it easy to forget. Her laughter was contagious, and for a moment, I forgot about everything except her.
Before I could think too much about how close we were, a blur of movement came barrelling toward us. Connor flew down the hill on his sled, shouting, “Incoming!”
Before either of us could react, he launched himself off his sled and landed on top of us in a pile of giggles and snow.
“Connor!” Harper shrieked, her laughter only getting louder as he squirmed his way between us.
“You guys looked too comfy,” he said, grinning mischievously. “Shane told me to come break it up!”
I ruffled his hair, laughing as I tried to sit up. “You’re lucky I don’t bury you in a pile of snow for that, kid.”
Harper reached over, pulling him into a hug despite the snow he was smushing into her coat. “You’re a menace,” she teased, her voice full of affection.
Connor beamed, his nose rosy from the cold. He leaned into both of us, a moment of pure joy passing between the three of us as we sat there in the snow. It was the kind of moment I’d never forget–the kind that felt so natural, so easy, it made me wonder how I’d lived so long without it.
“Wait, don’t move,” Harper said suddenly, reaching into her coat pocket and pulling out her phone. “We need to capture this.”
Connor grinned even wider, throwing an arm around each of us. “A snow selfie!”
Harper leaned in close, holding the phone up as we all squished together. The three of us were flushed and covered in snow, but we were all smiling so big it almost hurt.
“Okay, say… snow angels!” she called out.
“Snow angels!” Connor and I chorused, as Harper snapped the picture.
She glanced at the screen, her smile softening. “This one’s going on the fridge,” she said, her voice warm.
Connor peered over her shoulder. “Let me see! Oh yeah, we look awesome.”
Harper tilted the phone toward me, and my chest tightened as I took in the image. The three of us looked… happy. Really, truly happy. It was so simple, yet it hit me harder than I expected.
“Frame-worthy,” I said with a grin, brushing a bit of snow off Connor’s hat.
Harper tucked her phone away, glancing between us with a look I couldn’t quite place. But whatever it was, I hoped she felt it too–the magic of this moment, of us.
Later, Connor challenged Harper to a race, and she took it seriously, insisting that she was going to beat him fair and square. “No mercy,” she declared, and while she didn’t win, she gave him a run for his money.
The boys were relentless about building bigger and better jumps for their sleds, daring anyone brave enough to try them. Shane, never one to back down, took the ultimate challenge. The boys had crafted a jump so big I thought for sure he’d back out at the last second, but he didn’t.
When he hit the ramp, Shane flew a good six feet in the air before landing with a spectacular crash.
He rolled off his sled and landed flat on his ass.
Harper, Nina, and I all doubled over, laughing so hard we could barely breathe.
I nearly choked on my drink, and Nina was wiping tears from her eyes as Shane groaned dramatically from his spot in the snow.
By the time the sun started dipping lower in the sky, we were all exhausted but happy. The fire was still crackling, the boys were warming up with another round of hot chocolate, roasting marshmallows for s’mores, and Nina and Harper were joking about who had wiped out the most.
I leaned back in my seat, letting the warmth of the moment sink in. This was the kind of day that stuck with you–the kind of day you replay in your head when life got too complicated.
As the firelight danced across Harper’s face, she glanced over at me, a soft smile tugging at the corners of her lips.
It was simple, and in that moment, it felt like everything was exactly where it needed to be.
Maybe we weren’t there yet, but I could see the future with her in it, a future that was worth the wait.