LOGINHarper POVI make it exactly four days before I crack.Not publicly.Not dramatically.No screaming.No huge scene in the middle of campus.Just—Small things.Quiet things.The kind that slowly pile up until suddenly you can’t breathe right anymore.It starts with whispers.Again.Always whispers.By now I can tell when they’re about me before I even hear my name.It’s in the pause when I walk by.The glances.The way conversations dip lower but never fully stop.And somehow that’s worse.Because at least if they said it to my face, I could fight back.But this?This just sits under my skin all day long.By the time I leave my morning class, my chest already feels tight.Too tight.I pull my hoodie sleeves down over my hands as I walk across campus, keeping my head low.Not because I’m ashamed.At least that’s what I tell myself.But maybe part of me is.Because this whole thing has gotten so much bigger than I ever expected.Bigger than flirting.Bigger than tension.Bigger than sne
Logan POVI don’t sleep.Not really.I lay there for maybe two hours staring at the ceiling while my brain tears itself apart.Every time I close my eyes—I hear her voice again.I got some messages.Soft.Trying to sound okay when she clearly wasn’t.And the worst part?She didn’t even sound surprised.Like some part of her expected this.That’s what gets me.Not the rumors.Not the whispers.Not even the threats.It’s the fact that she’s already starting to believe she deserves them.That this is somehow the cost of being near me.My jaw tightens hard enough it hurts.No.Absolutely not.I grab my hoodie off the floor and shove my arms through it before heading out.It’s barely after six in the morning.The Ice House is quiet for once, most of the guys still asleep.Good.Because right now I’m hanging onto my control by a thread.And I already know where I’m going.⸻The drive to my father’s office feels too short.I don’t even remember half of it.Just flashes.Red lights.My hands
Logan POVI last twelve minutes.Twelve.That’s how long I make it before I cave and text her.Which is honestly pathetic considering she asked for space and I’m supposed to be respecting that.But I’m trying.I really am.The problem is—Everything feels wrong without her.Practice feels wrong.Campus feels wrong.Even the Ice House feels different now.Quieter.Not actually quieter.Marco is still yelling at video games downstairs and somebody definitely broke something in the kitchen twenty minutes ago.But it still feels off.Because my brain keeps expecting her.Expecting a text.A look.Something.Instead?Nothing.I stare down at my phone again.Still no response to my last message.Hope your test went okay.God.Could I sound more boring?I drop back against my bed with a groan, throwing my forearm over my eyes.This is ridiculous.I’ve never done this before.Never sat around thinking about a girl this much.Never cared this much.And somehow that realization doesn’t make me
Harper POVIt’s amazing how loud silence can get.I didn’t notice it the first day.Maybe because I was too busy trying to convince myself I’d done the right thing.That space was smart.Necessary.Responsible.All those nice mature words people use when they’re trying to justify hurting themselves before someone else gets the chance to.But now?Now it’s day three.And silence has started sounding a lot like loneliness.I stare down at my phone again.Still nothing.Not because Logan hasn’t texted.Because he has.Just… less.Shorter.More controlled.Like he’s forcing himself to respect what I asked for even though he hates every second of it.And somehow?That makes it worse.The last message sits there unopened for a second before I finally tap it.Hope your test went okay.That’s it.No heart.No teasing.No you still here?Just careful distance.Exactly what I asked for.And I hate it.“Okay,” Lila says from across the room. “You need to stop staring at your phone like it person
Logan POVThe ice is the only place it makes sense.That’s what I tell myself.That’s what I’ve always told myself.Because out here—There’s structure.There’s rules.There’s control.You skate.You hit.You score.You win.Simple.Except today—It’s not.I push off harder than I need to, my blades carving deep into the ice as I circle the rink during practice.Faster.Again.Harder.“Shaw!” Coach’s voice echoes. “Dial it in!”I am dialed in.That’s the problem.Every movement is sharp.Precise.Aggressive.Too aggressive.The puck slides toward me and I don’t hesitate—I fire it immediately.It slams against the boards harder than it should.“Jesus,” Marco mutters. “You trying to break the wall or score?”I ignore him.I don’t slow down.I don’t think.Because the second I think—She’s there.Harper.Standing in front of me in that hallway.Saying she needs space.Space.I push harder, skating full speed down the ice, cutting sharply around a defenseman during the drill.Too sharp.M
Harper POVIt’s been two days.Not long.Not really.But it feels like more.Like something stretched those hours out, pulled them tight, made every moment heavier than it should be.I sit in the back of the lecture hall, staring at notes I haven’t actually read.The professor is talking.Something about ethics.Or logic.Or something equally important that I should be paying attention to.But I’m not.Because my brain is somewhere else.Somewhere I told myself not to go.Logan.I haven’t seen him since the quad.Since everything.Since the way everyone looked at us.Since the way it all got too real, too fast, too public.Since I told him—I don’t know if I can handle everything that comes with you.I close my eyes briefly.God.Why did I say it like that?Because it’s true.Because it’s not fair to him.Because I don’t want to be the thing that costs him everything.Because—“Miss Lane?”My eyes snap open.The professor is looking directly at me.The entire class is suddenly very qu
Logan POVThe call comes in while we’re finishing drills.Not a text.Not a message.An actual call.Which means it’s bad.I’m peeling my gloves off when my phone vibrates in my locker.Daniel Meyers.I stare at it for a second, then answer.“Yes?”“My office,” he says. “Now.”Then he hangs up.I e
Logan POVThe rink smells like cold steel and bad decisions.My skates hit the concrete harder than they need to as I walk into the locker room. My shoulders are tight. My jaw’s been clenched so long it actually hurts.I’ve already said no.Twice.Doesn’t matter.PR doesn’t care.Coach doesn’t care
Harper POVThe sorority house is loud when I get back.Not party loud. Just… people loud. Doors opening and closing. Someone laughing down the hall. Music bleeding faintly out of the common room.Normal.Which is exactly what I want.Normal means no Logan. No overthinking. No replaying his mouth on
Logan POVI stare at my phone longer than I should.The message is already sent. There’s nothing to take back. Nothing to edit. Nothing to soften.We need to talk.About the date. About everything.Great. Real smooth, Shaw.I toss the phone onto my nightstand and roll onto my back, staring at the c







