All Chapters of Breaking The Ice Between Us: Chapter 41 - Chapter 50

Harper POVThe bar is louder than it has any right to be on a Friday night — loud enough that the floor vibrates under my boots when we walk in. Warm bodies crowd the front, and the smell of beer and fried food hits like a wall.I’m immediately regretting this.Kenzie practically shoves me through the doorway. “Relax, Harper, we’re here for school spirit!”“Right,” Mia snorts behind me. “Spirit. Definitely not because a certain hockey captain might be here.”Lila loops her arm around mine so I can’t escape. “You promised not to be boring.”“I didn’t promise that,” I mumble.But it doesn’t matter — because as soon as my eyes adjust to the dim lights, Lila gasps.“Oh my God. I see Marco and Cole.”Of course she does.Of course.Before I can even form a protest, she drags me across the bar, dodging two drunk freshmen and a couple making out aggressively against a pillar.Cole spots us first, lifting his chin in a silent greeting, wearing that easy smile that somehow always makes me relax

Harper POVHis mouth is on mine and suddenly every rule I’ve built for myself collapses like a bad card house.This was supposed to be a conversation.A confrontation.Me demanding answers.Instead, I’m pinned against the wall of the Ice House, my fingers tangled in the front of his hoodie like I’m the one holding him there, like if I let go he might vanish.He kisses me like he’s been holding back for years.Too much.Too intense.Too good.My brain keeps whispering this is a bad idea, this is a bad idea, this is a terrible idea—But my body doesn’t care.His hand tightens at my waist, fingers curling into the fabric of my coat. I feel the heat of his palm even through all the layers. Every nerve under his touch lights up like someone flipped a switch.I tip my chin, part my lips, and he groans into my mouth, low and rough and desperate. The sound sinks straight through me, settling low in my stomach, hot and heavy.“Logan,” I breathe against his lips, not sure if it’s a plea or a wa

Harper POVI must be dreaming. There’s no other explanation.Logan is here. With me. Touching me.And I want him in a way that terrifies me.“What are you waiting for?” I whispered, my voice shaking with need and nerves and something dangerously close to fear.His hand stilled on my belly, and he just looked at me—really looked at me—like he was trying to decide whether to cross a line we could never uncross.“Logan,” I pleaded, because if he didn’t move, I might break.Something dark and determined flashed in his eyes.Without warning, his hand slid up, gripping my shirt and pulling it over my head. The cool air hit my skin and I gasped, my heart slamming into my ribs.“Logan,” was all I could manage as he lowered his head and pressed slow, reverent kisses along the tops of my breasts, just above my bra—like he was worshiping and ruining me at the same time.“So beautiful,” he murmured, his voice thick and rough.The words hit me harder than his touch.I was already melting, already

Logan POVBy noon, my head is a war zone.I’ve been to class. Technically. I sat in the back row, took zero notes, and spent fifty minutes staring at the same paragraph in a book without reading a single word.I’ve been to the rink. Technically. I lifted, ran drills, nodded at Coach, didn’t get yelled at. Which somehow feels worse than getting yelled at.And all of it feels like I’m walking around inside someone else’s body.Because I woke up this morning with Harper in my arms.Because she was real.Because she didn’t disappear.Because she didn’t pretend it didn’t happen.And because I have absolutely no idea what to do with that.My phone buzzes for the tenth time in an hour.Group chat. The guys. Celebrating last night’s win like it’s still happening.I mute it.Cole catches me in the hallway outside the locker room, coffee in hand, eyes sharp.“You look like hell.”“Good,” I mutter. “That means I’m consistent.”He studies me. “So. You alive?”“Unfortunately.”“Did she kill you or

Cole POVI know something’s wrong with Logan before he even opens his mouth.It’s the silence.Logan Shaw doesn’t do silence. He does sarcasm, trash talk, or strategic brooding with a side of arrogance. Today he does… nothing. Just sits at the kitchen counter in the Ice House, staring at his coffee like it personally betrayed him.Marco and Zack are still asleep. The house is quiet in that weird, hollow way it only gets after a game night and too much adrenaline.I pour myself coffee and lean against the counter across from him. “So,” I say lightly, “what did you do? Commit a felony or finally develop a conscience?”He doesn’t look up. “Go away.”“Ah. Definitely conscience, then.”Still nothing.I study him. The jaw is tight. The shoulders are tense. He looks like a guy who didn’t sleep and hates himself for the reason why.An idea forms.A terrible, beautiful idea.I smirk. “What, did you sleep with Harper or something?”He looks up.And in that half-second before his face slams back