Breaking The Ice Between Us のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 81 - チャプター 90

Harper POVBy the time I finally crawl into bed, my body feels like it weighs a thousand pounds.It’s not just the day. Or the week. Or the auction stress or the classes or the meetings or the fact that half the campus feels like it’s vibrating with drama.It’s everything.I kick off my shoes, don’t even bother changing, and just sit there for a second on the edge of my bed, staring at nothing.My room is quiet in that comforting way. The kind that only happens late at night when the house has finally settled. A few girls are still awake somewhere down the hall, laughing softly, but in here it’s just me and my thoughts.Which is not always a great combination.I pull my hair out of its clip and let it fall down my back, then flop onto the mattress and stare at the ceiling.I’m tired in a way sleep won’t fix.Tired of thinking about Logan.Tired of not thinking about Logan.Tired of replaying every look, every almost-word, every moment that never seems to land where I want it to.I rol

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 mine like my brain is broken.I barely get three steps inside before someone grabs my arm.“Hey!”I yelp and spin.Lila.Of course it’s Lila.Behind her are Emma and Priya, both wearing expressions that are way too pleased with themselves.“What—?” I start.“Nope,” Lila says immediately. “Don’t ask questions.”“Lila—”“Harper Lane,” Emma says solemnly, “you are being kidnapped.”“By your own sorority,” Priya adds. “Which is technically not a crime.”“I have a paper due—”Lila cuts me off. “You’re going on a date.”“I am not—”“You are,” she says, eyes bright, “and since the universe has decided to be dramatic, so have we.”They start steering me toward the stairs.“Where are we going?” I de

Harper POVThe house is loud in the way only a sorority house ever is.Someone is laughing too hard in the living room. The TV is on. A couple of girls are sprawled on the floor with notebooks and highlighters, arguing about something that sounds like it might be biology but might also be a boy. The kitchen smells like popcorn and burned coffee.It’s normal. Familiar. Safe.And I’ve never felt more emotionally drop-kicked in my life.I push the door closed behind me a little too quietly and stand there for a second with my purse still on my shoulder, like I’m not entirely sure where to put myself.My chest feels tight.Not angry. Not exactly.Just… humiliated.“Harper?”Lila’s voice slices through the noise.I look up. She’s on the couch, pretending to watch TV and very obviously not doing that at all. The second her eyes land on my face, her posture changes.“Oh,” she says, standing. “Oh no. That is not a ‘good date’ face.”“It was fine,” I say quickly.She squints. “That sentence is

Logan POvMy father calls at exactly the wrong time.I’m sitting in my car in the stadium parking lot, engine off, hands still on the steering wheel, staring at nothing.Daniel’s voice is still in my head.You’re not ready.You can’t handle being a brand.They’ll replace you.My phone lights up on the passenger seat.Dad.Of course it is.I don’t answer it.It rings out.Then rings again.I close my eyes and exhale through my nose before picking it up.“What.”“Nice to hear from you too,” he says. “You done with practice?”“Yeah.”“How’d it go?”“Fine.”He snorts. “That usually means it wasn’t.”I don’t respond.He fills the silence the way he always does. “Your coach texted. Said you’re skating tight.”“That’s because he talks too much.”“That’s because you’re thinking too much,” my dad corrects. “Thinking gets you hurt.”I stare at the dash.He keeps going. “You hear about the scouts coming next week?”“Yeah.”“Good,” he says. “About time.”There’s a pause.Then: “You keep your nose

Harper POVWhen the door clicks shut behind Logan, the quiet in my room feels louder than the entire house downstairs.I don’t move for a second. I just stand there, staring at the spot where he was, like the air might still be warm enough to prove he didn’t make the whole thing up.He came.Alone.No Cole. No buffer. No carefully curated distance.Just Logan, standing in my doorway with that look on his face—like he’d walked in ready to get torn apart and decided he deserved it.And I did tear into him. A little. Not enough. Not the way I could have.Because the second he said I’m scared, something in me shifted.Not softened. Not forgave.Shifted.Like my body remembered that he’s not only a hockey player and a headline and a set of dumb decisions. He’s a person with a pulse. With fear. With something complicated behind his eyes that isn’t arrogance.I press my palm to my chest, like I can physically hold my heart still.It doesn’t help.The house is still buzzing—someone laughs on