Breaking The Ice Between Us (Harper) novel Chapter 20

Chapter 20

Chapter 20

Logan POV

It starts on the ice, because of course it does.

The rink feels colder than usual

56 vouchers

crueler. Every stride slices, cry breath scorches on the way in. I’m skating like I’m

trying to outrun a ghost, and I already know which one.

Her voice keeps replaying in my head.

You don’t get to be jealous.

1 fire the puck so hard it screams off the boards.

Coach’s whistle cracks through the air. “SHAW! Are you skating or trying to commit homicide on the ice?”

“Just skating.”

He barks a laugh. “Bullshit. Get your head right or go hit a punching bag before you break someone’s ribs.”

I dig harder. No thinking. No feeling. Just pain until everything numbs.

Cole glides beside me, annoyingly steady. “You wanna tell me why you look like you’d fight your own shadow?”

“Drop it.”

“Great. He’s in denial mode again. My favorite version.”

If I answer, I’ll punch him, so I don’t.

By the time practice ends, my lungs feel like they’re bleeding and it still isn’t enough.

I rip my gear off in the locker room like it insulted me. Noise everywhere – laughing, chirping about last night, somebody arguing over NHL stats. A normal team. Normal chaos.

Lucky idiots.

Cole eyes me as I shove clothes into my bag. “She really got in your head that bad?”

I freeze. “Who?”

“Oh yeah, totally subtle deflection.” He lifts his hands. “Whatever I get it. Feelings are terrifying.”

“I don’t have feelings.”

“Right,” he says. “And I’m a priest.”

I slam my locker too hard. He just smirks. He knows me too well-which is infuriating.

“You need to blow off steam,” he says. “Preferably without skating yourself off a cliff.”

Maybe he’s right. Maybe I need noise. Chaos. Distraction.

That’s when I hear her voice behind me purring through the allway like smoke.

“Well, well. Hartwell’s golden boy.”

1/4

Chapter 20

Sophia Alvarez.

History. Heat. Zero emotional danger.

“Rough practice?” she asks, tracing a manicured nail up my arm. You look like you need… release.”

I should walk away.

I should shower.

I should get my head straight before I do something stupid.

Instead, I hear myself say, “Come with me.”

Because she’s easy. Familiar. Predictable.

And Harper Lane is none of those things.

Sophia smiles like she just won. “Thought you’d never ask.”

55 vouchers

The Ice House isn’t wild tonight

―

not a party, just the usual chaps. The guys are on the couch playing video games, cussing at virtual refs while a couple girls eat popcorn and yell at them for missing shots.

Normal. Loud. Stupid. Safe.

Marco looks up as we walk in. His eyebrows fly up.

“Well damn,” he says, elbowing Zack. “Vintage hookup night?”

Sophia blows him a kiss.

I don’t say a word.

–

Silence falls for a beat the kind that means everyone’s making assumptions. Let them. Easier than explanations I don’t have.

I head upstairs, not waiting to see if Sophia follows. She will. She always does.

I need numb. I need quiet. I need to forget the way Harper looked at me in class like she didn’t know whether she wanted to hit me or kiss me.

My room swallows the noise as the door closes. Sophia tosses he jacket on my chair and turns slowly, eyes dark.

“You’re always wound so tight,” she murmurs, stepping closer. “Let me loosen you up.”

I should tell her no.

I don’t.

She lifts her sweatshirt and lets it drop. Lace underneath. She knows exactly what she’s doing. She steps onto the bed on her knees, crawling toward me slow and sultry, perfectly practiced. er fingers hook in the waistband of her leggings, pulling them just enough to tease,

It’s familiar.

It should work.

2/4

Chapter 20

It used to work.

She straddles my lap, breath warm against my jaw. “Stop thinking, Logan.”

If only it were that easy.

When her hand presses against my chest, someone else’s face flhes in my mind. Brown eyes. Sharp voice. Soft lips.

Harper.

My stomach twists like I’ve swallowed barbed wire. I grip the edge of my mattress hard enough my knuckles crack.

Sophia leans in, ready to seal this mistake-

–and a knock interrupts it.

Light. Hesitant.

She ignores it, lips brushing my neck. “Forget whoever that is.”

Another knock. Softer, nervous.

“Logan Shaw-?”

The door cracks open.

Time stops.

Harper stands there, clutching a folder to her chest, breath short like she ran here. Mid-sentence. Mid-hope. Mid- everything.

And then she sees.

Sophia half-undressed in my lap.

My shirt fisted in her hand.

My expression frozen in the worst truth possible.

Harper’s face shatters in real time confusion – dawning horrer – disbelief.

“Oh.”

Just a whisper. Small and broken.

—

The papers slip from her hands and scatter across my floor like show.

Sophia shifts smugly, satisfied. “Hi.”

Harper flinches like the word slapped her.

“I- sorry,” she stammers, voice cracking. “I didn’t- I’m sorry.”

“Harper-”

She backs out before I can stand.

Before I can explain something I don’t even understand myself,

3/4

Her voice shakes into a tiny, strangled whisper: “My mistake.”

Then she runs.

Footsteps down the hall.

Door slam downstairs.

And she’s gone.

The silence afterward tastes like blood.

Sophia slides her hands down my chest, self-satisfied. “Well. Tha was dramatic.”

I stare at the door like if I breathe hard enough she’ll rewind and walk back in.

“Oh my God,” I murmur, voice rough. “What the hell am I doing

Sophia frowns. “Excuse me?”

But I’m already off the bed, heart punching ribs, chest hollow.

I didn’t want distraction.

I wanted an escape hatch from feeling anything at all.

Instead, I just burned the only bridge that mattered.

And for the first time all season…

I don’t feel numb.

I feel wrecked.