Chapter 103 HARPER
A throat cleared near my head, close enough to pull me from sleep.
For a second I didn’t understand where I was. My cheek rested against something warm and solid, and there was a steady rhythm beneath my ear. An arm was wrapped securely around my waist, fingers curled into the fabric of my sweater as if I might disappear without warning.
Then I looked up.
Mrs. Mercer stood a few feet away, hands folded across her chest, her expression caught somewhere between disbelief and exhaustion.
I froze.
Tyler was still asleep.
I shoved him in the ribs. “Tyler.”
He made a sound of protest and tightened his hold on me.
“Tyler,” I hissed.
His eyes blinked open slowly. Confusion clouded them for half a second before he followed my gaze. His entire body went rigid.
“Oh,” he said under his breath.
Mrs. Mercer exhaled. “I don’t know what to do with you two.”
I scrambled upright, pulling the blanket closer around myself. The cold morning air bit at my face and hands. Snow dusted the edges of the rooftop, untouched and bright.
“You’re sleeping outside,” she continued. “In winter. On the roof. I raised you with common sense, Tyler.”
“We were watching a movie,” he said quickly, sitting up.
“And you thought the roof was the best theater?”
He winced. “It didn’t feel that cold.”
“It’s January.”
I stared at my lap, mortified.
Mrs. Mercer looked at me then, her expression softening slightly. “Harper, once you’re cleaned up, I’d like to speak with you.”
My stomach tightened. “Yes, ma’am.”
She shook her head, more tired than angry. “Come downstairs before you both catch pneumonia.” Then she disappeared back through the door.
The rooftop felt much colder after she left.
I pressed my hands to my face. “I’ve officially overstayed.”
Tyler stood and offered me his hand. “You’ve not.”
“She hates me.”
“She doesn’t hate you. If she hated you, she wouldn’t be making hot cocoa right now.”
I looked at him skeptically. “She’s making hot cocoa?”
“She makes hot cocoa when she’s stressed.”
“That’s not comforting.”
He smiled, brushing snow from my hair. “Harper, relax. She probably just wants to know if something’s going on between us.”
Heat rushed to my face again. “What are we supposed to say if she asks?”
“The truth.”
“And what is the truth?”
He held my gaze for a moment, his expression warming. “That we care about each other. That we’re figuring it out. That nothing happened last night except that we were idiots who fell asleep.”
I swallowed. “Okay.”
“Okay,” he repeated gently.
By the time I stepped into the kitchen twenty minutes later, showered and wrapped in one of Tyler’s hoodies, the house smelled like chocolate and cinnamon.
Mrs. Mercer stood at the counter, pouring something into two mugs. She looked up when she heard me and offered a small smile.
“Sit,” she said.
I obeyed.
She placed a mug in front of me. “Careful. It’s hot.”
“Thank you.”
For a moment she simply watched me cradle it between my palms.
“How are you feeling?” she asked finally. “With everything,” she added when I didn’t answer immediately.
I forced a small smile. “I’m okay.”
She studied me in a way that made it clear she didn’t fully believe that, but she nodded anyway.
“Harper, I don’t want you to be offended by what I’m about to say.”
My grip tightened around the mug.
“I called your mother,” she continued gently. “I told her what happened with Sam.”
The room felt very quiet.
“She was grateful,” Mrs. Mercer said. “And worried. She asked if you could stay here until she gets back. She’ll be home in a few weeks. If that’s all right with you.”
For a second I forgot to breathe.
Stay.
Here.
With Tyler.
“With you?” I repeated.
“Yes.”
“Yes,” I said quickly. “I mean, if it’s not too much trouble.”
She smiled, and there was something knowing in it. “It isn’t trouble.”
I tried to calm the ridiculous surge of happiness rising in my chest.
Her eyes narrowed slightly. “You look pleased.”
“I just… it’s nice here.”
“Mm-hmm.” She leaned against the counter. “Is there something you’d like to tell me?”
My heart skipped. “No.”
She waited a beat.
“If you and Tyler are becoming something,” she said carefully, “I wouldn’t be upset about it. You’re a good girl. But you’re both still in high school. Life changes quickly after graduation. Plans change. Dreams get bigger.”
My mind flashed to Tyler’s voice talking about the NHL, about scouts and tryouts and the ice.
“I understand,” I said quietly.
“I just don’t want either of you building your entire world around something that might look different in a year.”
“I know.”
She reached out and squeezed my hand. “Take it slow. Let yourselves grow.”
I nodded, forcing on a tight-lipped smile.
When I returned to Tyler’s room, he was digging through a drawer.
“She didn’t banish you,” he said when he saw my face.
“No. She invited me to stay.”
His head snapped up. “What?”
“My mom asked her to let me stay until she’s back.”
A grin spread across his face. “That’s amazing.”
“Yeah.”
He stepped closer. “So you’re stuck with me.”
“For a few weeks.”
He looked pleased about that.
“I didn’t bring much,” I said. “Just a couple things.”
“You can steal my hoodies. You already do.”
I ignored that. “We should keep up with your therapy.”
He blinked. “Now?”
“We have time.”
He hesitated. “I was actually thinking we could play video games. My arm feels better. And we’re on break. We deserve one lazy day.”
“Tyler.”
He tilted his head. “What?”
“Have you forgotten about your hockey dream?”
His expression shifted slightly.
“The longer you delay the exercises, the slower the recovery,” I continued.
I expected him to brush it off. To say it didn’t matter. A small, selfish part of me wanted him to choose staying in this room with me over everything else.
Instead, he laughed softly. “You’re right. Thanks for keeping me in check.”
He grabbed the resistance band from his desk. “Come on, Coach.”
Something inside me sank.
We worked through the exercises together. He talked the entire time, energy returning with every movement.
“I can’t wait to get back on the ice,” he said, rotating his shoulder carefully. “You have no idea how much I miss it.”
“I can imagine.”
“I keep thinking about the first game back. The sound when you step out. The cold air. The crowd.” He smiled at me. “You better be there cheering.”
“Of course.”
“I’ll score just for you.”
I tried to match his enthusiasm, but my replies felt thin.
He didn’t notice at first.
He was already somewhere else, in an arena under bright lights.
A loud crash interrupted us.
Jacob burst into the room without knocking. “I’m back from Granny’s house and I survived.”
Tyler groaned. “You’ve been gone two days.”
“She tried to teach me knitting,” Jacob said seriously. “And she baked every hour. I almost didn’t make it.”
I laughed despite myself.
Jacob looked between us. “Why do you look like you’re stretching for the Olympics?”
“Physical therapy,” Tyler said.
Jacob nodded sagely. “Boring. Do you guys want to game?”
Tyler opened his mouth, likely to say no.
“Yes,” I said quickly.
They both looked at me.
“For real?” Tyler asked.
“Please,” Jacob cut in quickly just as I started to reply. “Before granny calls and asks if I’ve practiced my stitching.”
Tyler sighed dramatically. “Fine.”
He set up the console while Jacob flopped onto the rug.
Just as the start screen appeared, the weight in my chest returned, heavy and tight.
“You guys go ahead,” I said suddenly, stepping back. “I don’t feel great. I’ll join later.”
Tyler turned immediately. “You okay?”
“I’m fine.”
He studied my face, unconvinced.
“I just need a minute,” I insisted.
Jacob was already selecting characters.
Tyler hesitated, then nodded slowly. “Okay. Don’t disappear.”
I slipped out before he could say anything else.
The hallway felt too narrow.
I pressed a hand against my stomach.
He was going to leave one day. He was going to chase arenas and contracts and cities with names bigger than this one. And he should. He deserved that.
But the thought of him skating away from everything here, from me, made something twist painfully inside my chest.
Even if I broke things off with Mark. Even if Tyler and I became something real. What would that future look like? Me standing in a crowd, cheering, while he built a life somewhere else?
Would he remember this version of us years from now? Would I just be the girl from high school who helped him stretch his arm back to strength?
The idea made me feel suddenly small.
Behind me, I could hear Tyler laughing at something Jacob said.
The sound should have comforted me.
Instead, it reminded me that he belonged to a world much bigger than this one.
And I wasn’t sure where I fit inside it.