18. Jaxson
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
JAXSON
The box in my pocket feels heavier than my goalie pads, a dense weight of velvet and platinum that pulls at my peripheral awareness with every step. We’ve been together a few months, and I can’t wait another moment to cement my relationship with Harper.
We’re back at the Alderbrook Resort, the Hood Canal stretching out before us like a sheet of hammered silver under the late afternoon sun.
It’s the same place where I first tried to show Harper that I’m more than just a dumb hockey player.
But today, the stakes are higher than a Game Seven overtime.
I’m not a man who handles variables well.
I like a controlled crease, a predictable puck trajectory, and a clear line of sight.
But as I walk Harper toward the edge of the dock, I’m acutely aware of the small crowd tucked away in the shadows of the main lodge.
Mick is there, likely vibrating with enough energy to power the entire Pacific Northwest, and more importantly, Ryan is there.
The truce is still fresh, a fragile thing held together by Harper’s happiness and a few stiff drinks, but he showed up. That’s the win I didn’t think I’d get.
"Jax? You're doing that thing again," Harper says, her voice pulling me back from the edge of my own head. She’s wearing a soft, cream-colored sweater that hugs her curves. She looks peaceful, which is a direct contrast to the riot happening inside my ribcage.
"What thing?" I ask, trying to keep my voice steady. I reach for her hand, my thumb tracing the pulse point at her wrist. It’s quick, a rhythmic fluttering that tells me she’s not as oblivious as she’s pretending to be.
"The 'Ice Wall' squint," she teases, leaning her shoulder into mine. "You only do it when you’re about to go into battle."
"There’s no battle today," I fib a little bit, leading her further down the wooden planks. The scent of salt and cedar is thick here, a grounding perfume that helps me find my center. "I’m just looking forward to a nice, relaxing night out with my girl."
Harper smiles up at me. "Uh-huh. A nice, relaxing night sounds great."
"It really fucking does," I mumble under my breath as my heart tries to pound out of my chest. Fuck. I need to do this before I lose my goddamn mind or make a fool out of myself. I turn to face her, the wind tossing her hair across her face. I reach up to tuck a stray strand behind her ear, my fingers lingering against her skin. She’s so warm, so vital, and for the first time in my thirty years, I don't feel like a statue.
I feel like a man who finally understands what it means to have something to lose.
I see Mick and Ryan emerge from the trees, followed by Mia. Looking at Ryan’s guarded but present face, I realized he was right. We’re a hockey family now, for better or worse, and we speak in the language of the game.
"What’re they doing here?" Harper asks, her brow furrowing as she spots them. She starts to turn, but I catch her chin, keeping her focus on me. My heart isn't just beating; it's a drum solo in a small room, echoing in my ears until I can’t hear the water anymore.
"I invited them," I say. My voice is lower now, thick with the kind of honesty I used to be terrified of.
"Jaxson," she whispers, her hands coming up to cover her mouth. The sassy, clinical nurse who handled my blood and my arrogance without blinking is gone, replaced by the woman who stayed when she should have run. She’s trembling now, a fine vibration I can feel through the dock boards.
Ryan steps and looks at me for a long beat, a silent communication passing between us—the final acknowledgement that the rivalry on the ice will never again be as important as the peace in this family. He just stands there with a raised eyebrow, waiting for me to do my part.
"They’re here for you, Harper," I say, dropping to one knee. The wood is hard against my joint, but I barely feel it. The world has narrowed down to the woman standing in front of me and the small velvet box I finally pull from my pocket. I flip it open, and the emerald-cut diamond catches the light, clusters of tiny emeralds surrounding it, brilliant and sharp against the backdrop of the canal. It matches the dress she wore the night she started to ruin my solitude, and it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen, second only to her.
"I spent years building a life where no one could get close enough to hurt me," I say, my voice cracking just enough to let the truth through.
"I was proud of being untouchable. I thought the silence was peace.
And then you walked into that treatment bay and told me to grow up, and I realized I wasn't at peace—I was just empty.
I don't want the silence anymore. I want the noise.
I want to hold you in my arms after a long shift at the hospital and long nights on the ice.
I want every version of you, for every day I have left. "
Harper is crying now, silent tears that track down her cheeks and disappear into the collar of her sweater.
She looks down at the ring, then at the man who used to be frozen solid.
The silence stretches between us, but it’s not the hollow kind.
It’s the kind that’s pregnant with a future, a quiet space waiting for her to fill it.
"I can’t believe you got my brother here.
" A watery laugh breaks through her sob.
She reaches out, her fingers brushing the top of my head before sliding down to cup my jaw.
Her touch is the only thing keeping me grounded, the only thing keeping the 'Ice Wall' from shattering into a million pieces right here on the dock.
"Yes," she says, the word coming out fast and sure. "Yes, Jaxson. A thousand times, yes."
I slide the ring onto her finger. It fits perfectly, a circle of cold metal that feels like the warmest thing I’ve ever touched.
I stand up and pull her to me, my arms wrapping around her with a desperation that would have embarrassed me six months ago.
She buries her face in my neck, her hands fisting in the back of my jacket, and for the first time in my life, I feel completely, utterly safe.
A cheer erupts from the shore. Mick is whistling, his fingers in his mouth, sounding like a tea kettle at full boil.
Mia is hugging Harper’s brother, and to my shock, Ryan doesn't look like he’s about to punch me.
He looks… relieved. He starts walking down the dock toward us, his hands in his pockets, his usual swagger replaced by a hesitant, heavy-footed stride.
I let Harper go just enough to turn as her brother approaches.
The tension is still there, a ghost of a thousand slashes and cross-checks, but when Ryan reaches us, he doesn't go for my throat. He looks at his sister, his eyes softening in a way I’ve only seen a few times, and then he looks at me. He holds out his hand.
"You break her heart, Thorne, and I’ll murder your ugly ass," Ryan says. It’s a threat, but the delivery is different.
There’s no malice in it, only the fierce, protective love of a brother who is finally letting go of the rope.
“And God, I hope the kids look like Colemans because we don’t need any more ugly ass Thornes running around. ” He holds out his hand to me.
I take his hand. His grip is firm, a hockey player’s grip, and when we shake, it’s not a truce. It’s an alliance. "I won’t hurt her. She’s everything to me. And I hope all our kids look like her. Nothing would make me happier.”
Ryan huffs a laugh, shaking his head. "God, you’re cheesy. I’m going to have to listen to this for the rest of my life, aren’t I?"
"Pretty much," Harper says, stepping to his side for a quick hug before returning to my arm. She holds up her hand, the diamond flashing in the sun. "Thank you for accepting my relationship with Jaxson."
"It wasn’t easy," Ryan grumbles, though he’s smiling now. "But I love you, shorty."
“I love you, too, string bean.”
We walk back toward the lodge together, the five of us, a strange and fractured group that somehow found a way to fit.
The resort staff has set up a table near the water, draped in white linen and crowded with ice buckets.
Mick has indeed already popped the first cork, the sound of it echoing like a starter’s pistol.
He’s grinning like a maniac, his face flushed with the kind of pure joy he usually saves for winning the Cup.
"To the Ice Wall!" Mick shouts, raising a glass as we approach. "Hopefully, you’ll be able to get your head out of your ass in time for the playoffs now."
“Thanks, buddy,” I mutter, knowing his toast could’ve been so much more embarrassing.
Mia holds her glass of champagne up to clink our glasses. "I knew it. I knew the minute I saw you two in that hospital. You never stood a chance, Jaxson."
"I really didn't," I agree, looking down at Harper. She’s leaning against me, her head on my shoulder, looking out at the water where the first hints of gold and purple are beginning to bleed into the horizon.
The weight in my pocket is gone, replaced by a much more substantial weight in my heart—a feeling of belonging that makes the emptiness feel like a lifetime ago.
The air is getting cooler as the sun dips lower, but I don't feel the chill. I feel the press of Harper’s body against mine, the steady, grounding presence of my best friend, and the hard-won acceptance of my greatest rival.
My life used to be a series of shutouts.
Now, the scoreboard is different. I’ve let everything in, and I’ve won the most important game of my life.