Total pages in book: 45
Estimated words: 41634 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 208(@200wpm)___ 167(@250wpm)___ 139(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 41634 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 208(@200wpm)___ 167(@250wpm)___ 139(@300wpm)
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.