Harmony is only here for a little bit longer so I selfishly keep her in bed the entire day, but now we are meeting my friends at a beach bonfire.
I lead Harmony down the narrow path to our bonfire spot. Weathered driftwood logs line the trail to the beach.
"Watch your step," I murmur, guiding her over a piece of driftwood. She's wearing jeans and a light jacket that's probably too thin for the evening chill, but she hasn't complained once. Three days of knowing her, and I already know she's not the complaining type.
"I know I met the ladies already and they are great. But your teammates won't bite, will they?" She tucks a strand of auburn hair behind her ear.
"Only if you ask nicely." When she rolls her eyes, I squeeze her hand. "They'll love you. They're assholes, but they're my assholes."
As we approach the fire circle, Asher spots us first, his guitar pausing mid-chord. "The prodigal son returns!" he calls out, grinning. "And he brings a guest!"
Everyone turns, and suddenly I feel like I'm bringing a girl home to meet my parents. Except worse, because these idiots know all my secrets.
"Everyone," I announce with more confidence than I feel, "this is Harmony. Harmony, this is everyone." I gesture broadly with my free hand. "Welcome to our little hockey family."
Jayden bounces up first—literal bounces, like she's got springs in her shoes—and hugs Harmony. "It’s great to see you again!"
"Dakota hasn’t stopped talking about you," Ryder cuts in from his spot by the fire. "Three days of 'Harmony this' and 'Miss Green Eyes that.' We were about to stage an intervention."
"He’s exaggerating," I tell Harmony, who's clearly enjoying my discomfort. "You already know the tall, quiet one with the Viking look is Kaleb. The broody one who thinks he's funny is Ryder. The one with the guitar is Asher. And you've met Jayden, who has no filter."
"And you met me too at the game the other night," a voice calls from the other side of the fire. Elle waves, curled up next to Asher. "I'm with the musical one."
"Nice to meet all of you," Harmony says, comfortable in a way I didn't expect. "Dakota's told me almost nothing about you."
That gets a round of laughter. I guide her to an empty space on one of the logs where a couple of blankets are spread out. The fire crackles between us and the others.
"Beer?" Kaleb offers, already reaching into a cooler.
"I'm good with water," Harmony replies. "I don’t want to have a hangover my last day here tomorrow."
"Right," Asher nods. "Dakota mentioned you're heading back to Oklahoma soon?"
"Norman," she confirms. "Work waits for no weathergirl."
"Meteorologist," I correct automatically, having been schooled on the difference three times already.
"You remembered." She smiles.
Ryder launches into a story about an away game last season in Toronto, where I apparently blocked a shot with my face instead of my stick. "Blood everywhere," he says, hands gesturing wildly. "Ref had to stop the game to scrape Lucky's DNA off the ice."
"It wasn't that bad," I protest.
"You needed seventeen stitches," Kaleb reminds me.
"Seventeen stitches isn't bad?" Harmony asks, looking genuinely concerned.
"Hockey standards," Jayden explains, nestled into Ryder's side. "These guys are basically walking scars at this point."
As the conversation flows, I lean closer to Harmony, pointing out little details about my friends that you don't get from first impressions.
"See how Kaleb keeps scanning the beach? Former military dad. He's always looking for threats that aren't there," I whisper. "And Asher only plays songs in minor keys when he's thinking about his parents. They died when he was a kid."
"That's sad," she murmurs.
"He's got a good support system," I say, watching Elle lean in to kiss Asher's cheek. "And Ryder pretends to hate everything, but watch how he looks at Jayden when he thinks no one's watching."
On cue, Ryder's scowl softens as Jayden laughs at something Elle said. It's brief, but it's there.
"They're a family," Harmony observes.
"Yeah," I nod. "They're my family too."
The night deepens around us. Elle shares stories about readings she's done as a phone psychic, Jayden complains about rude customers at the Sand Dunes, and Asher strums quiet melodies of the best of the oldies. Harmony fits in seamlessly, asking questions, laughing at the right moments, offering stories of her own about storm chasing and weather patterns that somehow don't bore anyone.
I watch her instead of the fire, studying the way her hands move when she talks, how her eyes crinkle when she smiles.
A tap on my shoulder pulls me from my thoughts. Kaleb nods toward the water's edge, and I follow him, excusing myself from Harmony's side.
"What's up?" I ask when we're out of earshot.
"Man, I've never seen you act so damn smooth—with a girl you barely know," he says, crossing his arms. "Usually you're all swagger, bad pick-up lines, and one-and-done by the end of the night."
I brush a strand of hair from my forehead, trying to ignore the nervous flutter in my gut. "Maybe I'm tired of the old game."
"Just shy of a week, Dakota." His voice drops lower. "You've known her five days."
"I know how long it's been."
"And she leaves tomorrow."
"I'm aware of the calendar, thanks."
Kaleb sighs. "Just... be careful. Long distance is hard."
"Who said anything about long distance?" Even as I say it, I know I'm lying to myself. These last few days of coffee dates and beach walks and late-night texting, and somehow I'm contemplating changing my entire MO.
When we return to the fire, the group has shifted. Asher and Elle have wandered down to the water, his guitar abandoned beside the log. Ryder and Jayden have disappeared entirely, probably back to the house. Only Harmony remains, poking at the fire with a stick.
"The natives have abandoned us," I say, sitting beside her again.
"Apparently I'm very boring," she replies with a small smile.
"Impossible."
The fire pops and hisses, sending sparks upward to join the stars.
"Day after tomorrow, you're off, and I'll be stuck here with these old goons," I say, trying to keep my tone light.
Harmony's laugh is gentle. "You know I have a life back home, Dakota. Yeah, it sucks, but that's the real world."
"The real world is overrated."
"Says the professional hockey player with the beach house."
"It's not my beach house," I clarify. "I just pay rent."
She nudges my shoulder with hers. "Still."
I turn to face her, studying her features in the dying firelight. The freckles across her nose, the slight cleft in her chin, the way her eyes reflect the flames. Five days shouldn't be enough to memorize someone's face, but here I am, trying anyway.
I lean forward and kiss her, soft and slow, like we have all the time in the world instead of just a day. When we break apart, she rests her forehead against mine.