Faking It With The Hockey Star

Harper’s POV

For the first hour, the quiet was comfortable. I watched the blurred green of the trees through the passenger window while Justin navigated the winding road. Finally, the question that had been bouncing around in my mind for days slipped out.

"Are you nervous about development camp?"

He kept his eyes on the road, his broad hands gripping the wheel. "A little."

"Really?"

"Yeah." He flicked a quick glance toward me. "But I’m excited too."

"Because Mason is going with you?"

"Mostly," he admitted with a low laugh.

I smiled softly. "You two really are attached at the hip."

"He’s my brother, Harper."

"I know."

He chuckled, though his expression grew serious. "I’m not kidding, though. Walking into an arena full of scouts and veterans with someone whose game I already know inside out makes everything a million times easier."

"Do you think you’ll make the final roster?"

"I hope so," he said, a quiet fire entering his eyes.

"What happens if you do?"

"I play hockey."

"That’s it?"

He shrugged. "That’s the dream, baby. That’s everything I’ve worked for."

I smiled, though my heart did a small, anxious flutter. "What if they draft you somewhere far away?"

"Then I go."

"What if it’s clear across the country?"

"Then I still go."

I stared at his profile, the reality of it setting in. "And us?"

Justin reached across the console, his fingers wrapping firmly around mine and squeezing tight. "We make it work."

I nodded, swallowing the lump in my throat. "And... what about the family company?"

The shift in his demeanor was violent. His shoulders locked up instantly, his jaw clenching so hard the muscle flexed beneath his skin.

"Harper," he warned, his voice dropping into a flat, icy register.

"What?"

"I don’t want to talk about that."

"Justin, we still have to acknowledge that—"

"No." The word was sharp, cutting through the air like a knife. "I told you clearly, Harper. I want nothing to do with that company."

"I wasn’t trying to pry, I just—"

"And I want nothing to do with anyone connected to it," he added, his eyes fixed grimly on the highway ahead.

"I know."

"Then please, don’t bring it up again."

I pulled my hand back from his grip, tucking my fingers into my lap. "Okay."

A suffocating silence descended over the truck. The hum of the tires against the road felt heavy and loud. I knew I shouldn’t have brought it up today, when he was already carrying the weight of camp on his shoulders. But the lingering shadow of his family was a reality we couldn’t ignore forever. Still, I hated the sudden wall between us.

Several agonizing minutes passed. Then, Justin let out a long, heavy breath, his tense shoulders dropping slightly.

"I’m sorry, baby," he murmured, his tone softening into that warm, familiar cadence.

I turned to look at him.

"I shouldn’t have raised my voice at you," he said quietly, his eyes flicking over to mine with raw regret. "It wasn’t right."

"It’s okay, Justin."

"No, it’s not." His knuckles were tight on the wheel. "I just... I get so defensive and worked up whenever that whole situation gets brought into the light."

"I understand."

"I don’t ever want you thinking I’m angry with you," he added softly.

"I know you’re not." I reached across the center console, resting my palm gently over his arm. "Just... don’t shut me out like that."

He nodded, turning his hand over to lace his fingers with mine. "I won’t."

The remaining half-hour of the drive passed peacefully, the unspoken tension melting away into a shared, quiet intimacy.

Until the truck finally turned onto my street and pulled up outside my house.

My stomach instantly twisted into a tight knot. This was it.

Justin parked the vehicle, but neither of us made a move to get out. I turned to look at him, and he turned to face me.

And suddenly, all the emotions I had been desperately holding back since six-thirty this morning came crashing through my chest like a tidal wave. Hot tears welled in my eyes, blurring my vision.

Justin immediately unbuckled his seatbelt and reached for me, pulling me halfway across the console into his lap. "Hey... hey, sweetheart."

I shook my head against his neck, a quiet sob breaking from my throat. "I’m going to miss you so much."

His arms wrapped fiercely around me, his hands holding me like he’d never let go. "I know, baby. I know."

"I really am, Justin."

"I’m going to miss you too," he rasped out, his voice thick.

"But you have to go."

"I have to."

"I know."

I tightened my grip on his shoulders, burying my face into his neck, soaking in his warmth. He pressed a long, hard kiss to the side of my head.

"I’ll call you every single day," he promised softly.

"You promise me?"

"I promise, Harper. Cross my heart."

"Even if you’re completely exhausted?"

"Even then."

"You’ll text me?"

"First thing in the morning."

"And at night?"

"Last thing before I sleep."

I finally pulled back, looking into his dark, beautiful eyes. "Keep me updated on everything."

"I will." He reached up, his large thumbs tenderly wiping the tears from under my eyes. "Just hang in there for me, okay?"

I nodded, biting my lip. "Okay."

He leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to my forehead. Then to my cheek. And finally, his lips met mine in a slow, lingering kiss full of profound devotion—a quiet, aching goodbye that made my whole body ache.

When he finally pulled away, his eyes were soft. "I love you, Harper."

My breath hitched. "I love you too, Justin."

He stepped out of the truck and grabbed my bags from the back, walking me to the porch. He pulled me into one last, tight embrace, inhaling deeply before letting me go.

He walked back to the truck, climbed into the driver’s seat, and rolled down the window.

"Don’t cry, baby," he called out, a soft smile on his lips.

I wiped my face with the back of my hand, letting out a watery laugh. "I’m not crying."

He gave me an unimpressed look. "Your eyes are literally overflowing, sweetheart."

"Just go before I make a scene," I laughed through the tears.

"Okay," he murmured, his eyes locking onto mine one last time.

The engine roared, and the truck began to slowly roll down the driveway.

I stood on the pavement, watching him. I watched the man who had completely captured my heart drive away, taking a piece of me with him. I stayed completely still until the truck turned the corner and disappeared from sight.

Even then, I couldn’t bring myself to move. My chest felt hollow, an aching void left in his place. I hadn’t expected it to hurt this deeply.

The front door clicked open behind me, and footsteps padded across the porch. Emma stepped outside, wrapping her sweater tight around herself. She took one look at my face, and her expression immediately melted into pure empathy.

"Oh, Harper..."

That was all it took.

My lips trembled, and the tears I’d been trying so hard to control burst through, streaming hot and fast down my face.

Emma walked down the steps and wrapped her arms around me, pulling me into a tight hug. I buried my face into her shoulder, sobbing quietly.

"He hasn’t even been gone for five minutes," I choked out, laughing pathetically through my tears.

She rubbed my back in slow, soothing circles. "I know, sweetie."

"I already miss him so much."

"I know."

"This is ridiculous," I muttered, wiping my nose.

"No, it’s not," Emma whispered softly, squeezing me tighter. "It’s love."

And hearing her say it out loud only made me cry even harder.

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