Faking It With The Hockey Star

Harper’s POV

I woke up with a strange, heavy stillness settling over my chest.

For a few long seconds, I simply lay there, staring up at the wood-paneled ceiling. The cabin was quiet. Too quiet. Justin was still sleeping peacefully beside me, one long arm stretched lazily across the empty expanse of sheet where I had been lying.

I turned my head to look at him. His dark hair was messy, sticking up in soft tufts, and his face was completely relaxed—so different from the restless, intense version of him I’d seen leading up to the draft.

A tiny, fond smile touched my lips. Then, just as quickly, it faded.

Today we were going home. And after today, Justin would be getting on a plane for development camp. He’d be gone for days.

I had known this moment was coming. I’d known it from the second we talked about the draft and everything that would inevitably follow it. But knowing a reality is coming and actually facing down the morning of it are two completely different things.

I had never spent several consecutive days without Justin since we became... whatever we were now. Partners. Best friends. Boyfriend and girlfriend. My absolute favorite person.

He had somehow woven himself into every single hour of my routine. I had gotten used to waking up beside his warmth, getting his brain-dump texts, eating meals across from him, calling him the second something big happened, and leaning on him whenever I needed clarity.

And now, he was leaving for camp.

I swallowed hard over the sudden lump in my throat.

"You’re staring at me, sweetheart."

I jumped slightly. Justin’s eyes were still completely closed, his voice raspy with sleep.

"I was not," I lied weakly.

One of his dark eyes cracked open, holding a playful glint. "You definitely were."

"I was thinking."

"About me?"

"Unfortunately."

A lazy, devastating smile spread across his lips. "Good morning, baby."

"Good morning."

He let out a deep groan, stretching his arms above his head until his knuckles brushed the headboard, before sitting up against the pillows. "What time is it?"

"Early."

"That’s not a real time, Harper."

I reached for my phone on the nightstand. "Six-thirty."

He groaned louder, tossing his head back. "Why on earth are we awake at six-thirty?"

"Because we have to pack, Justin."

He glanced over at the suitcases scattered open near the closet. "Do we really?"

"Yes."

"Can’t we just stay here for another week?"

I offered him a soft, wistful smile. "I wish."

Justin quieted, his dark eyes searching my face for a long moment. Then he extended a large, warm palm toward me. "Come here."

I didn’t hesitate. I slid across the mattress, and he immediately pulled me against his bare chest, wrapping his arms around me like a shield.

Neither of us spoke for a long time. I rested my cheek over his heart, listening to the steady, comforting beat beneath my ear.

"I don’t want to go back yet," I whispered into his skin.

"I know, baby."

"I don’t want you to leave."

His arms tightened around me, his chin resting on the top of my head. "I know that too."

I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath of his scent. "I’ve never had to do this before."

"Do what?"

"Be without you."

He didn’t make a joke this time. He just leaned down and pressed a long, tender kiss to my forehead. "You’re going to be okay."

"How are you so sure?"

"Because you’re Harper."

I lifted my head from his chest to look at him. "That’s your entire explanation?"

"Yes," he said softly, a small smile touching his lips.

A quiet laugh escaped me. "You make everything sound so simple."

"Because sometimes it really is." He brought his hand up, his thumb gently brushing over my cheekbone. "We’ll call. We’ll text. I’ll tell you every single thing that happens on the ice, even the boring stuff."

"And if you get busy with meetings?"

"I’ll still make time for you."

"What if you’re completely exhausted after double sessions?"

"I’ll still make time for you, Harper."

"What if—"

"Harper."

I stopped, my mouth still open.

"You don’t have to construct a hundred different scenarios where this goes wrong," he murmured, his thumb catching a stray lock of my hair. "We’ll figure it out."

I held his gaze, feeling the solid reassurance radiating off him. I nodded slowly. "Okay."

He leaned down and pressed his lips to mine. The kiss began soft and sweet, a quiet reassurance between us, but neither of us was ready to end it. What started as a comforting touch quickly turned deeper, warmer, laced with a fierce, lingering heat that neither of us wanted to name out loud.

When Justin finally pulled back, resting his forehead against mine, his breathing was slightly uneven. "We really need to pack."

I chuckled breathlessly. "You’re the one who escalated it."

"I regret absolutely nothing."

"Of course you don’t."

We finally forced ourselves out of the warm bed. We brushed our teeth, showered, and began the quiet process of packing up our little world. Clothes were folded back into suitcases, phone chargers disappeared into bags, and toiletries were zipped away.

Justin checked his heavy hockey gear bag twice, pulling the zippers tight. "Is that everything from the room?"

"Everything."

I stared at the black duffel bag sitting by the door. "So... you’re really leaving."

He turned, his dark eyes resting on me with a soft, steady intensity. "Not yet."

"But soon."

"Soon, baby."

I let out a shaky sigh.

Once everything was loaded into the back of the truck, I stood at the threshold of the cabin and looked back inside one last time. The space had only been ours for forty-eight hours, yet it felt like a holy sanctuary.

Justin stepped up behind me, wrapping a broad arm around my waist and pulling me back against his front. "Ready?"

I nodded, resting my head against his arm. "Yeah."

"We’ll come back here," he murmured into my hair.

I turned my chin to look up at him. "Promise me?"

"I promise, sweetheart."

We got into the truck and started the drive back toward the city.

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