All Chapters of Breaking The Ice Between Us: Chapter 121 - Chapter 130

Harper POVThe noise finally dies.The hall empties slowly — donors leaving, chairs scraping, volunteers laughing like nothing monumental just happened.But something did.And it’s still vibrating under my skin.Logan hasn’t let go of my hand.Not once.We slip out a side exit to the quieter corridor near the locker rooms. It’s dimmer here. Cooler. The air smells faintly like polished floors and something metallic from the ice below.It’s quiet.Too quiet.The adrenaline is fading now.Which means reality is settling in.He stops walking first.I turn to face him.For a second, neither of us speaks.It’s strange — after all that public chaos, this feels bigger.More dangerous.“You silenced your dad,” I say softly.His jaw tightens.“Yeah.”“You never do that.”“I know.”The weight of that hangs between us.He looks at me differently now.Not like I’m a distraction.Not like I’m something reckless.Like I’m something he’s choosing.And that terrifies me more than the auction did.“You

Logan POVThe first thing I notice when I wake up the second time is that Harper isn’t in my arms anymore.For half a second my brain panics—stupid, automatic—like she vanished and last night was just adrenaline and bad decisions.Then I hear it: the faint rush of the shower down the hall.Relief loosens something in my chest.Right.She’s still here.In my room.At the Ice House.I sit up slowly, blinking against the bright streaks of morning light cutting through the blinds. My sheets are twisted, my head is heavy in that way that has nothing to do with alcohol and everything to do with emotions I don’t know how to store.Flashes of last night come back in messy pieces.The auction. The spotlight. Harper’s face when I raised my paddle.Five thousand.Her eyes locking onto mine like she didn’t know whether to bolt or fall apart.The roar of the room when she bid back on me—like she’d grabbed the narrative and yanked it toward her with both hands.The way my father’s name lit up my ph

Harper POV The auditorium still smells like last night. Flowers. Perfume. Too many people packed into one room pretending they weren’t judging everyone who walked onto that stage. Now it’s quiet. The chairs are stacked along the walls. The stage lights are off. Half the decorations are gone, but glitter from the centerpieces still clings stubbornly to the floor. I stand in the middle of the room with my hands on my hips, surveying the aftermath like a general looking over a battlefield. “Well,” I mutter to myself, “we survived.” Last night had been… a lot. Logan bidding five thousand dollars on me. Me bidding on him. The entire room losing its mind. The way he grabbed my hand and walked me off the stage like the rest of the world didn’t exist. My stomach flips just thinking about it. “Harper!” I glance up as the doors swing open and Lila marches in carrying a cardboard box full of leftover decorations like she’s storming a castle. Her hair is piled into a

Logan POVThe locker room after practice smells like sweat, tape, and bad decisions.Pretty standard.Guys are scattered around the benches—some still half-dressed, others already in the showers, the constant noise of chirping and locker doors slamming bouncing off the tile.Normally I’d be right in the middle of it.Today I’m just… listening.Cole drops onto the bench next to me, pulling off his shoulder pads.“You’re still flying out there,” he says casually.“Practice was good.”“That’s one way to put it,” he snorts. “You were skating like someone insulted your mother.”I shrug, unlacing my skates.Maybe someone did.Just not my mother.“Seriously though,” he continues, lowering his voice, “whatever mental hurricane you had going on last week? Keep channeling it like that.”I chuckle faintly.“Noted.”Across the locker room Marco tosses a towel at someone.“Yo Shaw!” he shouts. “Five thousand dollars, man! You planning on auctioning off your truck next?”A few guys laugh.Another v

Logan POVThe Ice House is loud tonight.Music blasting through the speakers. Guys shouting over each other. Someone already opened another case of beer.We won.Not just won—dominated.And when the final horn sounded and the crowd started chanting our names, it felt like everything clicked again.Skating felt effortless.Every pass landed.Every shot had purpose.Coach even clapped me on the shoulder in the locker room.“Keep playing like that and scouts will be lining up.”The guys are still riding the adrenaline now.Marco is trying to convince Cole to do a keg stand in the kitchen.Someone shoved a hockey stick into the ceiling fan.Typical post-win chaos.Normally I’d be right in the middle of it.Tonight?I’m slipping away.I grab my jacket and head toward the back hallway, ignoring Marco yelling after me.“Shaw! Where you going?”“Out,” I call.“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!”“That’s a very short list,” Cole adds.Laughter follows me as I step outside into the cold night air