“So, are you excited about your first professional hockey game?”
Not that I’d admit it to him anytime soon, but Lowell’s project to make me love hockey by the time the baby gets here is actually moving along a lot faster than I thought it would.
Though I do think I owe more of the credit to Harper than I do to him. She’s been making me watch all the preseason games and explaining everything to me. I still don’t really understand it, but I will admit it’s fun to watch.
“I…think so?”
I look around the big, nearly empty arena with wide eyes. Most people are still milling about the concourse buying merch and filling up on beer and food before warm-ups begin. This place is huge, and I can’t believe it’s about to be packed with 20,000 screaming hockey fans.
I’m proud of myself for keeping my hormones in check because I’ve only had to excuse myself to the bathroom one time for crying when I came across a little girl with dark hair and pigtails who had LOWELL and the number 55 stitched across her back. She was so cute, and all I could think was… That could be mine.
“Just wait until the game starts. You’re going to totally fall in love with it then,” my sister says. “I didn’t think I’d ever be into it, and now I love it.”
I want to point out that she most likely loves it so much because her husband plays, but I don’t.
“And it’s going to make you so horny,” Ryan adds. “Like, unbelievably so. Your sex drive is probably already off the charts, so I bet by the time we get done with this game, you are going to want to climb your man like a pole.”
I’m a little surprised by how right she is about my sex drive being totally off the charts. I have woken up no less than four times this week from very vivid sex dreams—so vivid I’ve had to get myself off each time or else there was no way I was going to be able to go back to sleep. I know they say some women’s sexual desires can be really intense during pregnancy, but I did not expect it to be that intense.
Just like I did not expect the star of my dreams to be Lowell, but oh has he been the star.
The most frustrating part of it all is that no matter how hot my dreams are, they still pale in comparison to the real thing, and that’s something I have to live with every day.
“He’s not my man.”
Ryan and Harper look at each other and do very little to conceal their smirks.
“He’s not my man,” I insist, annoyed by their smiles. “There is nothing remotely relationship-y or intimate happening between us. We’re just friends.”
“Much to your vagina’s dismay, I’m sure. I bet it would love to be dicked down by him.”
“Ryan!” Harper hisses, looking around to make sure nobody heard her.
“Sorry. Ignore me. Hockey makes me horny, and I’m not even the pregnant one. It’s just so”—she shimmies her shoulders—“hot.”
“She always gets like this during the game,” Harper explains. “I swear, she and Rhodes go at it like rabbits when it’s over.”
“I can definitely confirm that, but don’t you dare sit there judging me like that when you know you and Collin do the same.”
Harper’s cheeks stain red, not denying it at all.
“Can we please stop talking about sex? Ryan was right—my libido is a little nuts right now and I can’t do anything about it, so hush.”
“Why can’t you do anything?”
I point to my stomach. “Um, hello.”
“Yeah, so?”
“Who is going to want to sleep with a pregnant woman?”
“Um, probably your baby daddy.”
I wrinkle my nose. “I’m not sleeping with Lowell.”
“Why? Scared he’ll get you pregnant?”
I roll my eyes. “No. I’m not sleeping with him because he got me pregnant.”
“Okay…” She draws the word out, clearly confused.
I sigh. “I can’t sleep with him because we’re not together, Harper. Yes, he got me pregnant, but we’re not dating or anything.”
“Remind me again why you’re not.”
“Because he doesn’t do serious.”
“I’d say having a baby together is pretty serious, Hollis.”
“You’re right. It is—but it’s not like this was planned. We weren’t even supposed to see each other again.”
“But now you are seeing each other again and you’re pregnant with his baby.”
“Yeah…”
“So, then, what’s the big deal if you sleep together? You’re not going to hook up with other people while you’re pregnant, are you?”
“No! Of course not!”
“Okay. Then…”
“Then what?”
“Then ride that dick while you can!” Ryan says.
Harper hitches her thumb toward Ryan. “Yeah, what she said.”
“I… Okay. I’ll take that into consideration.”
I won’t take it into consideration though. Lowell and I haven’t really talked about our relationship or exactly how it is we’re going to raise this baby, but I don’t think we need to. He was clear from the start—he doesn’t want a relationship. He already made the mistake of throwing himself into something he wasn’t entirely ready for once, and he got hurt. He’s not going to make that same mistake again.
The roar of the crowd pulls our attention, and Comets start spilling out for warm-ups, starting with their goalie. They step onto the ice one by one and skate in circles on the half of the rink closest to us.
Collin and Rhodes almost immediately come over to right in front of where we’re sitting, and it is absolutely adorable to watch Harper and Ryan fangirl over their husbands while wearing their numbers on their back.
A sudden rush of jealousy rises in me. I don’t understand what it means or where it’s coming from, so I push it down and pretend it never happened, then focus my attention back to the ice.
I take it all in, absolutely mesmerized by everything that’s happening. I have no idea how they are all successfully ignoring the people beating on the glass and trying to get their attention with signs and screams and everything else while also warming up for the game. How they’re blocking it out, I have no clue, but it’s impressive.
Even though I’ve only seen pictures of him in uniform and probably couldn’t pick him out if I tried, I know the moment Lowell steps onto the ice because the Comets fans go nuts for their captain.
But he doesn’t pay any attention to them.
No.
He looks at me.
In fact, he skates right over to me and stands at the glass, that stupid grin of his that is really starting to grow on me firmly in place. He tips his head and mouths one word: Good?
I nod, loving that even when he’s supposed to be focusing on his game, he’s worried about me and the baby.
His grin widens, satisfied with that answer. His eyes drift down the front of me, lingering on my chest and then my belly—both of which are starting to grow—before he drags his gaze back up to my face. His stare has me wiggling against my seat.
He taps the glass twice with the end of his stick, then skates away.
I can feel eyes on me, and I turn to find Harper staring holes into the side of my head.
“What?” I ask.
She smiles, shaking her head slowly before turning her attention back to the ice.
But not before I hear her murmur, “Just friends my ass.”
Ryan was right.
Very, very right.
The final buzzer just sounded, and I am hornier than ever. Watching grown men skate around after a puck and shove on each other shouldn’t be hot, not in the least. But somehow…it is.
Like really, really hot.
“Well…” Ryan says, fanning herself. “That was nice.”
I laugh, because same.
“We going to Slapshots?” Harper asks.
“What’s Slapshots?”
“A sports bar that’s just around the corner. They have a tradition of going after every home opener,” Ryan says. “We can walk there. The guys will meet up with us in a bit after all the hubbub.”
So that’s what we do. We make our way a few blocks over and grab a table, and I learn that “hubbub” means their post-game interviews, a quick workout—which totally blows my mind—and reviewing what went wrong and what went right.
I’d say since they finished the game five to one and won the 15th consecutive home opener of their existence, there was a lot that went right.
We’re not seated at Slapshots long before the guys file in. Everyone cheers when they’re spotted, then returns to their respective drinks, and I like that they have a place they can hang out like this and not be bothered for the most part.
The bartender brings over several beers before the guys even have a chance to sit down, already knowing what they want.
“Hey, Rod. Can we get some sparkling water with lemon whenever you get the chance?”
He looks confused by Lowell’s request, but when Lowell nods toward me, understanding dawns, and he nods, taking off to prepare the drink.
“Thanks,” I say to Lowell as he takes the empty seat next to me, trying hard to ignore how good he looks and smells right now. He has a ballcap flipped backward and is wearing jeans and a shirt with #55 on the chest. Simple, but with the confidence and high he’s riding after winning tonight, he looks ten times hotter.
Or maybe that’s just the horniness talking again.
He winks in response, and I have to fan myself because my face instantly heats.
“You good?”
“Yeah, just…hot. And a little tired.”
“We don’t have to stay long, just a beer and then we can go. I was going to ask if you wanted to come back to my place tonight. Just to…you know…check it out, make sure it’s all good for the baby and everything,” he rushes out. “But if you’re too tired—”
“I’m not,” I say way too quickly. “I’m not too tired. That sounds…good. Nice.”
“Good. Nice.” He smirks. “Okay.”
And that’s exactly what we do.
Lowell has one beer before pushing away from the table, holding his hand my way. “You ready?”
I nod and slip my hand into his, allowing him to help me from the chair. I try to ignore the fact that he doesn’t let my hand go.
“We’re heading out,” he announces to the table.
“Aww, already?” Miller complains, poking his bottom lip out. “Boo.”
“Sorry. I need to get my girls home. They’re tired.”
Harper perks up at his words. “Girls?!”
“Ignore him. We don’t know what we’re having yet. He just thinks he knows it’s a girl.”
“Because it is,” Lowell insists.
I ignore him. “We’ve decided to wait to find out at the twenty-week mark.”
“My money is on a boy,” Collin says.
“Nah. I say girl,” Rhodes chimes in.
“Team girl here too,” Miller agrees.
“You’re officially outnumbered.” Lowell places his hand on my belly. “You hear that? You had better be a girl or you’re grounded.”
I gape at him.
It’s the first time he’s touched my stomach, and the first time he’s talked to the baby. It surprises me—not just because we’re in public and everyone is definitely gawking at us now, but because he does it with such ease, like it’s the most natural thing in the world to him.
I like that it’s natural. I like that it’s natural a little too much.
“What?” he asks, and I realize I’m still staring at him.
“Nothing.” I tear my eyes from his as I blink back the tears threatening to spill over. “Let’s get out of here.”
Lowell’s house is a lot more modest than I pictured it being. He’s an NHL player who makes more in a year than I’ll probably ever see in a lifetime, and I thought his house would be stories tall on sprawling land with a million windows and marble floors.
Instead, he lives in a gated community on about two acres, and not a single home is gawdy or lavish. It just looks like a normal community for normal everyday people.
“I like your new car,” I tell him, running my hands over the interior of his brand-new Audi SUV.
“I promised you I’d get a new one for the baby.”
I grin because he did promise that, and I love that he kept his promise.
“Don’t worry, Fiona is tucked safely in my garage. Figured it was too cold for her tonight.”
“Oh, phew. I was so worried about her.”
“I know you were.”
He shoots me a grin as he pulls into a short driveway and clicks a button so the garage opens.
Maybe I’m just really ignorant on what hockey players do with their money, but I definitely didn’t expect his garage to house his truck and that’s it.
No, wait—that looks like a bag of golf clubs tucked back in the corner.
We climb out of the SUV, and he leads me into the house via the kitchen. A few smart lights kick on when we enter, and the first thing I notice is the open concept, which leaves the living room visible from every angle in the spacious cooking area. Despite the navy blue cabinets and sleek black granite countertops, the kitchen is bright and open. I bet it’s even more gorgeous in the daytime. The living area contains a couch, a TV mounted to the wall, and two bookshelves lined with odds and ends.
Everything is so…modest.
“Not what you were expecting?” he asks as I take it all in.
“Not at all,” I admit. “I thought there would be more gold.”
He laughs. “Nah. More of a silver guy myself.”
I grin. “It’s a really nice house, Lowell.”
“Thank you. I’d like to take all the credit for it, but I had a designer do it all. I just wanted something simple and sleek that didn’t cost an arm and a leg in case I ever play somewhere else.”
The possibility of that never even crossed my mind, and my heart begins to race thinking about him moving away.
“Is that something that’s going to happen?”
“I plan to Sidney Crosby my career and play for one team, but it doesn’t mean it’s not a possibility.”
My hand instinctively goes to my belly as if to protect my baby from that heartbreak.
He doesn’t miss it.
“Follow me. I have something to show you.”
He leads me down a dark hallway, not stopping until he reaches the door at the very end.
I lift my brows at him, curious.
“I know we haven’t really discussed the mechanics of this whole situation—something we should probably sit down and do—but I’ve been working on something. You know…just in case.”
He pushes the door open and flips on the light.
My jaw drops, unable to believe what I’m seeing.
It’s a nursery.
Not just any nursery either—it’s a beautiful one with a custom design of a midnight mountain-scape stenciled on the wall. The furniture is a soft gray and there are touches of gold and yellow throughout. There’s a half-built crib in the middle of it all, which tells me he’s the one putting everything together himself.
“You did this?” I ask, my eyes darting everywhere, not wanting to miss a single detail.
“Yeah. I’ve, uh, been working on it since the night you told me.”
I don’t know what I was expecting him to say, but it wasn’t that.
“You…have?” He nods. “But you didn’t… You said… You…”
“Panicked. I panicked, but not once in that entire conversation did I say I didn’t want the baby or want to be part of their life. I have always wanted that, and I will always want it.” He steps into me, his hands finding my bump for the second time tonight. He bends at the knees to meet my eyes. “This is forever, Hollis, and I’m all in.”
One.
Two.
Three.
That’s how many seconds I last before I crush my mouth to his.
