Chapter 59 TYLER
"Ow!" Peter groaned as I smacked him upside the head once we were safely back in my car. "What'd you do that for?"
"For your stupid, running mouth," I shot. "Why the hell did my dare have to be kissing Harper?"
He leaned back, wincing, careful not to provoke another hit. "I thought you would want to?"
"Of course I want to, you dipshit!" I barked, pounding my fist against the wheel to let out my frustration. "I just didn't want it to happen over some stupid dare, where it wouldn’t mean anything!"
"Oh," Peter drawled, rubbing his head. "Oh, yeah. I deserved the slap."
I exhaled slowly, shaking my head. "Only God knows what she thinks of all this now. She didn’t even want to talk to me when she was leaving with Mark and Megan."
"Why wouldn't she? If anything, you just proved to her you’re not a playboy."
"Or more like I’m not interested," I muttered.
"Yeah, that too." I shot him a glare. He held up his hands in mock surrender, grinning. "You know what? I can fix this."
"No. You’re staying out of it," I replied firmly.
He pouted, crossing his arms like a child denied candy. I couldn’t help a small laugh.
"You look ridiculous."
Peter leaned closer, a mischievous glint in his eye. "For your information, this face works on mothers. But seriously, let me help. My middle name is literally Cupid."
"You mean Peter Mary Anne Hudson," I said, smirking.
His mouth dropped open, face squaring off in mock offense. "You promised not to ever mention it!"
"Relax. We’re alone. I promised I wouldn’t mention it in front of others," I said, leaning back.
Peter frowned. But his anger at me didn't last long as a smirk slowly spread across his lips, clearly plotting his next move, and I let him. Deep down, I was already thinking about my own plan. I could let him run interference for now, but there was only one person who could fix this and it was me.
✨✨✨
The next morning I was up early, sitting on the edge of my bed, staring out the window at the snow drifting lazily to the ground. Winter break had arrived, and the quiet blanket of white outside made everything feel slower, almost suspended in time. My shoulder throbbed lightly, a dull reminder of my tear that was still far from healing, but I didn't let myself think about it, letting the calm settle around me.
A knock on the door pulled me from my thoughts. I swung the door open to see her standing there, hoodie zipped all the way up, hands stuffed into the pockets, a small frown tugging at her lips. Snowflakes clung to her hair, and I could tell the crisp winter air hadn’t done anything to soften her mood from yesterday.
"Morning," I said, forcing a casual smile.
"Morning," she replied, voice clipped. She didn’t smile, didn’t even glance up fully, just gave me a small nod.
I hesitated. Talking about last night—the bonfire, the dare, Peter’s antics—felt like opening a wound I wasn’t sure she wanted touched. So I stayed quiet, letting the awkward tension settle between us.
Without a word, she stepped inside and set down her bag, quickly pulling off her coat. Her movements were efficient, focused—no trace of her usual playful energy. She came over and gestured toward my shoulder.
"Let’s get started," she said, tone clipped, but gentle. "We’ll stick to the new exercises my mom had added to the list."
I nodded. "Yeah. Sounds good."
Her eyes flicked toward my shoulder, scanning for any tension or pain, and I realized how much she cared without needing to say it. I felt a small relief. Even if she was distant after the bonfire, she was still here, still helping.
We started with light stretches and mobility exercises. She guided me carefully through every movement, correcting my form with precise hands. Occasionally, our hands brushed as she adjusted my posture. Each touch was brief, but it felt like a small victory. I let myself enjoy it without overthinking.
"Do you want to—maybe go out after this?" I asked cautiously, testing the waters, careful not to bring up last night.
She shook her head immediately. "Not now. We should focus on your shoulder. Mom wants you cleared for light training this winter break. That’s what we need to concentrate on."
I nodded, forcing a smile, though a pang of disappointment hit my chest. But it was fine. This wasn’t permanent. We still had these moments, even under the guise of rehab, and that was enough for now.
"Alright," I said, letting my shoulders relax. "We can go out some other time. Just let me know when you feel like.”
She offered a small, reluctant smile. It was the closest thing to her old warmth, and I appreciated it.
Hours passed with stretches, band exercises, and careful mobility drills. She was meticulous, making sure I didn’t overextend.
We were just about to wrap up when Peter barged in, tossing his beanie onto the ground with a sack in hand.
“So here’s the plan, Cap—” he started but froze when he saw Harper holding my arm. “Oh, um, I didn’t know you’d arrive early.”
I mentally recoiled, praying he would just shut up and leave. Of course, it was Peter. He held his hand to his mouth, dropping his voice to a whisper Harper could still hear. “You didn’t tell me she was coming this morning. I spent all night thinking of how to get you two—”
“Mom—” I shouted to drown him out. Harper gave me a skeptical look; I flashed her a grin, then turned back to glare at Peter. “Mom’s been looking for you all morning,” I said through clenched teeth.
Thankfully, he got the hint. “Oh, yeah, I just remembered I’ve got this, uh, thing. See you later, Harper.”
He turned and bolted like he’d been caught red-handed. I groaned from secondhand embarrassment.
“Should I be worried?” Harper asked.
I shrugged. “It’s Peter. It’s literally normal to worry about him.”
A faint smirk ghosted her lips as she let go of my arm, wiping her sweaty hands on a towel.
“You’re improving faster than I thought. Mom will be happy.”
“Good,” I said, forcing a grin. “That means we might actually get a chance to do something besides exercises this winter.”
She chuckled softly, a little warmth returning to her eyes, though the edge of frustration lingered. "Don’t push it, Tyler. Most of this winter break is going to be rehab. Going out isn’t part of it."
I laughed quietly. "Strictly professional. Got it."
We packed up our gear and headed for the door. I could feel her watching me, as if holding back something she wanted to say. I decided not to bring up Peter’s dumb dare. Some things needed time, and forcing it now wouldn’t help.
As she stepped outside, snow crunching softly under her boots, I kept my voice casual. "Same time tomorrow?"
She nodded without speaking, lips pressed in a thin line that didn’t fully hide the tension. "Yes. Same time."
She turned to leave, but something inside me shifted. I still wanted more time with her.
“I can drop you off if you want.”
“No. I’m fine. I’ll manage.” Her response was almost too quick, curt, like she’d found another reason to be annoyed, and I let her go, watching as she walked past the gates.
The click of a tongue against teeth behind me told me Peter had emerged again, a cookie in his mouth judging by the soft crunch.
“Dude, since when do you suck at asking a girl out?” he teased.
“Shut up,” I hissed.
“Fine. But don’t come crying when someone else takes your treasure.”
I shot out a hand to smack him, but he dodged back into the house. Still, his words lingered, tightening my chest.
Sure, a shoulder tear hurt like hell, but I could bet that someone else getting close to Harper before I have the chance would hurt a lot more. And I really hoped it wouldn't happen.