Faking It With The Hockey Star

Harper’s POV

Justin walked ahead of me without another word. His jaw was tight. One hand gripped the folded paper Ryan had given him. The other reached into his pocket for his truck keys. The headlights flashed as he unlocked it. He walked around to the passenger side and pulled the door open. "Get in," he said.

I stopped halfway across the driveway. The evening breeze lifted a few strands of my hair. I looked at him. "No," I said.

He looked up. "No?"

I folded my arms. "You said I’m not using the university laptop anymore."

"I did," he replied.

"What does that mean exactly?"

His answer came without hesitation. "We’re getting you a new one. A good one. The kind Ryan recommended." He held up the paper. "Tonight if we have to."

I stared at him. "No."

His eyebrows lifted. "No?"

"You’ve already done enough," I said, shaking my head. "I have money. I’ll buy it myself."

"You don’t have to," he said.

"I want to," I replied. "I’ve got savings now. I’ll order a hard drive. I’ll change all my passwords. I’ll enable two-factor authentication. I’ll stop using the university network." I smiled weakly. "I’ll figure it out."

Justin didn’t smile back. He simply looked at me. Then quietly said, "Harper."

"I’m serious," I said.

"So am I," he replied.

"I don’t need another expensive gift," I said. "I can handle this."

For a long moment neither of us moved. Ryan’s parents were still on the porch, chatting quietly, completely unaware of the conversation happening in their driveway. The neighborhood was peaceful. Almost too peaceful for what I was feeling.

Justin took one slow breath. Then another. When he spoke again his voice was calm. Almost painfully calm. "Can’t you see what just happened tonight?"

I frowned. "I do."

"No," he said, shaking his head. "I don’t think you do." He took one step closer. "Someone broke into your project. They didn’t steal your laptop. They didn’t steal your camera. They went after your work specifically." My chest tightened. "They almost erased months of your life," he continued. "And if Ryan hadn’t found that cache..." He stopped. His voice caught. "You would’ve lost it."

Silence. I looked down at my shoes.

"So why are we arguing?" he asked quietly.

The words I wanted to say refused to come out in the right order. I looked back at him. "You’ve paid for my mom’s treatment," I said finally. "You bought me a camera. You bought me shoes. You’ve been helping my family every single week." My eyes began to sting. "I can’t keep taking things from you, Justin. There has to be a limit somewhere. I don’t want to become..." I couldn’t finish the sentence.

He understood anyway. "A burden?" he said softly.

A tear slipped down my cheek before I could stop it. "I don’t want you to wake up one day and realize all you’ve ever done is spend money on me," I admitted.

Justin stared at me for a long moment. Then something in his expression shifted completely. He closed the distance between us and gently took both my hands in his. "Harper." I couldn’t look at him. "So that’s what you’ve been thinking this whole time," he said.

"I’ve never had someone do this much for me," I whispered. "It scares me."

He squeezed my hands. "Look at me," he said gently.

Slowly, I did. There wasn’t frustration in his eyes anymore. Only something that looked painfully close to heartbreak. "You think I see this as spending money on you," he said quietly.

I nodded weakly.

He smiled sadly. "I don’t." His thumb brushed the tear from my cheek. "I see it as protecting your future." Another tear replaced the first. "This isn’t about buying you a gift," he continued. "This is about making sure you graduate. You’ve spent months building that documentary. You’ve skipped sleep. You’ve worked through weekends. You’ve carried a camera everywhere you go." He laughed softly. "You’ve even made me sit through rough cuts that lasted three hours."

Despite everything, I laughed. "It wasn’t three hours."

"It felt like it," he said.

I smacked his arm lightly. "It was two."

"My point still stands," he replied. His smile faded. "If someone gets into that laptop again, they won’t just delete one interview. They’ll destroy everything." He swallowed. "I can’t let that happen. I won’t."

"I’ll feel guilty," I said honestly.

"I know," he replied.

"I really will."

"I know."

"I hate asking people for help."

"I know," he said, smiling. "That’s one of the things I love about you." My lips trembled. He gently tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. "But sometimes letting someone love you means letting them help."

The words settled somewhere deep inside me. "I don’t want you keeping score," I said quietly.

He looked almost offended. "Keeping score? Harper, I’ve never kept score. I never will." He rested his forehead lightly against mine. "Think of it however you need to. A graduation gift. An investment. Borrowed equipment. I genuinely don’t care. I just need you to finish that documentary."

I closed my eyes. For the first time, I understood. This was never about the laptop. It was about him being terrified that someone could reach in and take my future away from me while I was sleeping.

I let out a shaky breath. Then nodded. "Okay," I said quietly.

He searched my face. "Okay?"

"We’ll get the laptop," I said, managing a small smile.

Relief flooded his face so quickly I almost laughed. "Thank you," he said.

I raised an eyebrow. "You sound like I just agreed to save your life."

He chuckled. "You kind of did."

"Drama king," I said.

"Guilty," he replied, opening the passenger door again.

I smiled. "This time." I climbed in. Justin closed the door gently behind me and walked around to the driver’s side. As he started the engine, he reached over and squeezed my hand. "We’re going to protect your documentary," he said.

"We are," I agreed.

He shifted the truck into drive. Neither of us noticed the black SUV parked across the street. Its engine was off. Its windows were tinted. Someone inside slowly lowered a phone after taking a picture of Justin’s truck. Then made a call.

"We’re too late," a voice said quietly. "They recovered the footage."

The line went silent. Then another voice answered. "Fine. Move to the next phase."

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