It was two weeks since they had sex and a few days before opening game. Zach called Harper a couple of times but she didn’t call him back. She had no idea what she was supposed to say or how she was going to communicate her feelings – feelings she didn’t even understand. Harper didn’t want to lead Zach on, nor did she want to waste her time. After everything that had happened between her and Bryan, it was hard for her to open up again. In fact, if she was being honest, it was one of the last things she wanted to do.

Which was terrible, because she knew she liked Zach. A lot. She knew there was a spark there, something that set Zach apart from the rest but she didn’t know if she was ready to take that step yet, to trust someone new.

It was frustrating because the desire was there – the desire for him and to let him in, but she couldn’t bring herself to do so. Not yet, anyway. So she acted like a coward. She avoided the situation because nobody got hurt.

Harper knew she was throwing something good away by not taking a chance and she hated herself for it. But she didn’t want to get tangled up with someone new when she needed to sort herself out. If she was still afraid of her last boyfriend, she couldn’t possibly be ready for a new one. It wasn’t fair to Zach and it wasn’t fair to herself.

The stress must have caught up with her because by the time late September rolled around, she came down with a bad cold. Her nose was clogged up so badly that she found herself waking up in the middle of the night because she couldn’t breathe. She also refused to take saline drips because she didn’t want to get addicted to them. Because of the sinus issue, her head swelled up and she had constant headaches. She was pretty sure her eyes were red, her skin was pale – which washed out her face and made her freckles look darker than they were – and her hair was limp and lifeless and also probably oily due to the fact that she hadn’t washed it.

When Monday morning rolled in, Harper called Seraphina to let her know she wouldn’t be in. Her voice was raw and scratchy, which, while felt like gargling glass, made Harper feel as though she wasn’t lying.

When that was finished, she headed over to her couch, grabbed her Roku control, and flipped to Netflix. She never really had an opportunity to indulge in some binge watching and she wanted to get more into Grey’s Anatomy. She had cranberry juice and popcorn on the coffee table, her favorite quilt wrapped around her body, and her bedroom pillow on the arm of the couch, so she could lie down comfortably.

Three and a half episodes in, there was an unfamiliar knock on the door. Harper’s eyes flitted over to the door, and she debated on whether or not she was actually required to answer it. Her grandmother would have called beforehand to make sure she was home before dropping by and she would know Bryan’s knock regardless of the amount of time spent apart. Not in a romantic way, but because the sound of him unnerved her, set her on edge. It was as though her body was protecting her from any potential threat he posed to her.

After crossing both of them off, she couldn’t help but be intrigued on who would be visiting her without giving her any kind of notice. The stranger knocked again, more insistently, and then a familiar voice called out: “The soup’s getting cold!”

Zach.

Zach was outside her door. With soup, apparently.

Harper’s heart fluttered in her chest and she nearly tripped over herself before rushing to the door. Her congested head made her light on her feet as the blood rushed to accommodate the jerky movement she was making, but she managed to right herself as she reached for the handle. As she opened the door, her mind screamed at her about looking terrible and how she didn’t want to get Zach sick before the start of the season, but her heart forced her to open the door, if only to see him again.

Her heart skipped twice when he shot her a warm smile and she couldn’t help but notice as his blue eyes softened when they saw her.

“You look terrible,” he told her as he walked through the door without any sort of invitation. Almost like he owned the place.

She huffed in response, immediately closing the door and locking it, before spinning around on the ball of her foot so she could keep up with him. Somehow, Zach knew exactly where to go to set down two bags of Boudin on her dining table before taking a seat himself.

“What are you doing here?” Harper asked, standing behind an empty seat and placing her hands on the back of the chair to keep her balance. “You can’t just walk in here.”

“Seraphina said you were sick,” he said as he began to remove the contents of the brown paper bags and put them on the table. “Do you want to use your bowls? Well, I got bread bowls so I guess that question doesn’t matter.”

“Seraphina told you I was sick?” she asked, furrowing her brow together.

“You know you sound sexy with your raspy voice,” he said with a smirk. “The fact that you’re rubbing your nose every five seconds just adds to the seduction.”

“There is no seduction!” she exclaimed, her fingers balled into fists as she stomped her foot. She felt especially juvenile right now. “And you didn’t answer my question. There is no way Seraphina would walk up to you and tell you that I was sick.”

“I asked where you were,” he told her with a shrug. “Question: are you cool with using plastic spoons? I can grab your spoons, if you’d prefer.”

“Why on earth would you ask Seraphina?” Harper asked. Maybe it was the fact that her head was clogged or she was still attuned to Grey’s Anatomy, but she still didn’t understand how he found out she was sick.

“You weren’t answering my calls,” he said without looking at her. “I figured if you didn’t want to see me anymore, the least you could do was tell me to my face.”

“Zach,” she said through a sigh. Her cheeks burned with shame, and she couldn’t bring herself to look at him. As much as she hated to admit it, he was right. If she didn’t want to see him anymore, she should have told him a long time ago. The problem was, she didn’t know what she wanted, and she told him as much.

His brows furrowed. “That’s bullshit and you know it,” he said. “Now, please sit down. I don’t want your soup getting cold. Have you had this New England Clam Chowder?”

Harper smiled despite herself and took a seat across from him. “It’s my favorite,” she murmured.

“Mine, too,” Zach said.

It was silent for a long moment as the two ate their soups in silence. Harper loved the feeling of the hot food sliding down her throat. It still hurt to swallow but she craved the warmth it provided her, especially when she was sick on a particularly overcast day.

“Thank you,” she finally said, when she was halfway through the meal. It was hard to eat – her appetite not what it used to be before becoming ill – but she refused to let the soup go to waste. “And you’re right about me not calling you. I should have done so. I’m sorry.”

“I’m a big boy,” Zach told her. “I can handle rejection. The thing is, I don’t think you realize what you’re rejecting. There’s something between us, Harp, and it wasn’t just sex – which was the best I’ve ever had, by the way. The date we went on, to the beach for breakfast, was one of the best days of my life.”

Harper was surprised. She couldn’t help it.

“And I know you had fun, too,” Zach said, throwing a glance at her. “You can’t fake that.”

“I did enjoy myself,” she admitted, resting her chin in her palm. “More than I expected.”

“So why are you denying what’s here?” he asked. “I don’t understand why you wouldn’t want to take this chance on something I know I’ve never felt before.” He paused to take a sip of the soda he brought with him.

“Honestly, I have no idea what this is,” she told him, her eyes bright with honesty. “I don’t know what I feel or what I’m going to feel or anything. My past has left me… wounded. It’s hard for me to open up.”

Zach gave her a look. “I’m sorry, but, again, that’s bullshit,” he told her. “You’re overthinking something that should come to you so simply. You like me. I know it. Don’t be in denial about it, with me or with yourself. Just admit it. Admit it.”

“Okay,” Harper said, her brow furrowed in frustration. “Okay, you’re right. I like you. I like you!”

“Whoa, no need to be crazy about it,” Zach teased. “I like you, too.”

Harper let out a breath she didn’t realize she had been holding. He liked her. He said it out loud. It was real.

“So let’s do something about it,” he said, his voice softer, gentler. His hands held her forearms and they were firm but caressing at the same time. Like he was aware of his own strength and was controlling it. “I know this talk is supposed to come before sex traditionally. Whether I actually adhere to what proper etiquette says is another story but I want to give it a shot with you. Because I like you. A lot. And this isn’t because the sex was great.”

Harper felt herself smile. “You already said that,” she pointed out.

“I can’t help it if it’s the truth,” he told her. His blue eyes sparkled with earnest. “I want to see where this goes. I want to be around you. I’m not saying we have to get married and pop out a bunch of kids, but I’d at least like the opportunity to get to know you better. And for you to get to know me.”

Harper felt herself smile. “You’re right,” she said. “I do like you. I want to see where this goes.” She looked down at her half-eaten bread bowl. “I’m sorry I didn’t respond to your calls. That was chicken shit of me.”

“It was,” he agreed. “Luckily for you, I’m a forgiving person, as I’m sure you’ll find out soon enough.”

She laughed and he leaned in and gave her a chaste kiss on her lips. She smacked his shoulder.

“What are you doing?” she exclaimed. “I can’t have you getting sick. The season starts in a couple of weeks and we can’t have you hacking up a lung when you need to start shooting the puck.”

“Everyone’s a critic,” he muttered with a smile on her face. “By the way, you don’t get to tell me I’m not allowed to kiss you. You’re my girl now, and I’m going to kiss you whenever I want.” Harper grinned and gave him a quick peck on the cheek. “Now, finish your soup. I spent six ninety-nine on that and I don’t want my good money to go to waste.”

Harper laughed. Before she could dig back into her food, there was a knock on the door. She furrowed her brow, surprised she had another visitor, but went to answer it regardless. It was probably her grandmother. Harper hadn’t been checking her phone and she wouldn’t be surprised if her grandmother showed up to take care of her the way she had when Harper was young.

When Harper threw open the door, she was hit with the realization that it was not her grandmother.