Chapter 123 Chapter 122
Logan POV
The first thing I notice when I wake up is warmth.
Not the kind that comes from blankets or sunlight.
The kind that comes from another person.
For a few seconds I stay still, eyes closed, hovering in that quiet space between sleep and reality where nothing is complicated yet.
Then memory starts creeping in.
The auction.
Harper standing under the spotlight.
My voice cutting through the room when I raised my paddle.
Five thousand.
Her face when she realized it was me.
Then her bidding on me.
The crowd going insane.
My father’s name lighting up my phone.
The way I ignored it.
My chest tightens slightly as the rest of the night floods back in pieces.
The quiet hallway after the event.
Her voice when she said she didn’t want to be a moment.
The look in her eyes when I told her I was choosing in daylight.
The drive back to the Ice House.
My room.
Her laughing nervously when she saw the mess of hockey gear I’d left on the floor.
The way that laugh turned softer.
Warmer.
Closer.
I exhale slowly and open my eyes.
Harper is asleep beside me.
For a moment I just stare.
Morning light slips through the blinds and spills across the bed, catching the dark waves of her hair spread across my pillow.
She’s curled slightly toward me, one arm tucked under the blanket, her breathing slow and even.
Peaceful.
Completely unaware that she’s currently causing a full system failure in my brain.
Because Harper Lane in my bed was not something I ever planned for.
And now that it’s happening—
I can’t imagine not wanting it.
My arm is draped loosely around her waist.
At some point during the night she must’ve shifted closer, because she’s practically tucked into my side now.
My chest does something strange at the realization.
I’ve woken up next to girls before.
That’s not new.
But this?
This feels different.
Those mornings were always temporary.
Quiet exits.
No complications.
No meaning.
This one feels… heavy.
Important.
Like the beginning of something I’m not entirely prepared for.
My thumb brushes absentmindedly against her side through the blanket and she stirs slightly but doesn’t wake.
God.
I swallow.
Then my phone starts vibrating.
The sound is obnoxiously loud in the quiet room.
Harper shifts again, murmuring softly in her sleep.
I reach toward the nightstand quickly, grabbing the phone before it wakes her fully.
The screen lights up.
One message.
From Dad.
My stomach drops immediately.
I already know what it says before I even open it.
But I read it anyway.
Explain the $5000 charge.
I stare at the screen.
Of course he saw it.
Probably the second the transaction hit the account.
Probably before the auction even ended.
I groan quietly and drop my head back against the pillow.
Right.
That conversation is going to be a nightmare.
My father is many things.
Patient is not one of them.
And spending five thousand dollars at a charity auction because I couldn’t stand the idea of someone else taking Harper out?
Yeah.
That’s not going to go over well in the “focus on hockey and nothing else” department.
The phone vibrates again.
Another text coming through.
I don’t even check it.
Instead I flip the phone face down on the nightstand.
I’ll deal with him later.
Preferably after coffee.
Preferably after my brain has caught up with the fact that Harper Lane is still asleep in my bed.
Beside me.
My arm tightens slightly around her.
She stirs again, blinking slowly as she wakes.
Her eyes open halfway first, confused for a moment.
Then she looks up at me.
And the softness in her expression nearly kills me.
“Morning,” she murmurs, voice rough with sleep.
My mouth curves slightly.
“Morning.”
She studies my face for a second, then glances toward the phone on the nightstand.
“Everything okay?”
I hesitate.
Then I sigh.
“Yeah,” I say quietly. “It’s fine.”
Her brow furrows slightly.
“That didn’t sound convincing.”
I chuckle under my breath.
“Just… my dad.”
Understanding flashes across her face immediately.
“Oh.”
She doesn’t ask for details.
She doesn’t need to.
Harper grew up around me.
She knows enough.
“Is he mad?” she asks softly.
“Probably.”
She shifts slightly closer, resting her head more comfortably against my chest.
The simple movement sends a strange wave of calm through me.
Like this is where she belongs.
Which is a dangerous thought.
But I let it exist anyway.
“He’ll survive,” I mutter.
Her fingers trace an absent line across my shirt.
“You did drop five thousand dollars in front of a room full of people.”
“Worth it.”
The words come out without hesitation.
Harper goes still.
Then she tilts her head slightly so she can look at me again.
“Logan.”
“What?”
Her eyes search my face carefully.
“You’re not going to regret that?”
“No.”
“You didn’t even think about it.”
“I did,” I say.
“When?”
“The second someone else raised their paddle.”
That earns a soft laugh.
“You’re ridiculous.”
“Probably.”
Her gaze lingers.
“You really hate losing.”
“That wasn’t about losing.”
She studies me for another long moment.
Then something in her expression softens.
She shifts closer again, pressing lightly into my side as if the conversation has exhausted her already.
“I believe you,” she says quietly.
The words land heavier than they should.
My arm tightens around her again almost automatically.
Her hair brushes against my jaw and I inhale slowly.
God.
This is dangerous.
Because this feels too easy.
Too right.
And the real world hasn’t caught up yet.
Scouts.
My father.
The draft.
Everything waiting outside this room.
But right now?
Right now it’s just morning light, warm blankets, and Harper Lane curled against me like she never wants to leave.
She yawns softly.
“Do you have practice today?” she asks.
“In a few hours.”
“Hmm.”
She sounds half asleep again already.
Her hand rests loosely against my chest.
“You’re going to have to face your dad eventually.”
“I know.”
Another pause.
Then she murmurs sleepily, “I’m still glad you did it.”
My chest tightens slightly.
“Yeah?”
She nods against me.
“Because you chose me.”
The room goes quiet again.
My phone vibrates once more on the nightstand.
I ignore it.
Instead I pull Harper a little closer under the blankets.
She doesn’t protest.
Just settles more comfortably against me.
And for the first time in a long time…
I decide that whatever storm is waiting outside this room can wait a little longer.