Page 42 of Slap Shot Surprise
“I’ve still got time.”
She laughed. “True. Hey, speaking of time, I have an ultrasound scheduled for next week. You don’t have to be there or anything, but I wanted to let you know.”
“Yeah, I’m not sure I could get away, with training camp starting.”
“It’s okay.” Her shoulders rose. “Like I said, I don’t expect you to change your life around. I know your priority is your career right now. I’m just in a different place.”
“I should thankyoufor being so understanding,” I told her. “You could have come in here with a list of demands.”
She shook her head. “Not my style.”
“I’m grateful.” I glanced over my shoulder into the guest room. “Hey, I should have offered this before, but do you want to stay here tonight?”
“No,” she said without hesitation. “I already booked a room, and my car is parked in the hotel garage. Plus...” She looked down at her phone in her hand. “Plus, I think it’s best if we don’t confuse things.”
“Confuse things?”
She chewed her bottom lip. “I just think this will work better if we stay really clear on the boundaries. It would be bad for everyone involved if things got—complicated between us.”
I nodded, knowing she was right, glad at least one of us was this level-headed. “Can I at least pay for your room and the parking?”
“Maybe next time,” she said with a smile.
“Okay. Well . . . call me, I guess?”
“I will. I have your number now.” She wagged her phone.
I laughed. “Right.”
She opened one arm and rose up on tiptoe, and I gave her a hug, the most impersonal one yet. Our lower bodies didn’t even touch. “Good night,” she said. “Thanks for dinner.”
“You’re welcome. Have a safe trip home.” Letting her go, I pulled the door open. “Take care of yourself, Mabel.”
“I will.” With a final wave, she walked out.
I watched her walk down the hall, then shut the door behind her and leaned my forehead against it. Thumped it a few times.
What. The. Fuck.
I was going to be a father.
For hours that night, I lay in bed, stretched out and staring at the ceiling. I was tired, but I couldn’t sleep. So much was running through my mind.
When I’d gotten Mabel’s message on Instagram, I’d been excited about seeing her again. Since Footsie’s wedding, I’d thought about her a lot—mostly in the shower with my dick in my hand—and every time, I regretted not getting her number. Not because I wanted to date her—or have a baby with her, for fuck’s sake—but I’d had such a good time that night. I thought it would be worth reaching out next time I went home to see if she might like to play another scrimmage.
Except that it hadn’t turned out to be a meaningless practice matchup at all. At some point, I’d gotten her pregnant.
I remembered how intense the sex had been, how hardI’d come, especially that second time. It almost didn’t surprise me that my stuff had busted right through the condom.
There were some elite athletes in the game that sort of breached the defensive line.
For a half second, I was likefuck yes, there were elite athletes in the game, but I stopped short of celebrating my genetic prowess. I hadn’t scored this goal on purpose. It was an accidental shot, a wild bounce of the puck. It shouldn’t count, but it did.
I remembered how much shit I’d given Gianni after he’d gotten Ellie pregnant. God, he was going to give it right back, and I’d have to take it. My mom would be sad. My dad would be upset. Neither of them would understand that this wasn’t my fault—I hadn’t been irresponsible. It was just bad luck.
And I couldn’t do what Gianni had done. I wasn’t going to marry Mabel or live with her or be there every day. I just couldn’t. And she didn’t want me to! She hadn’t even wanted to stay the night in my guest room. She wanted to keep things casual and friendly between us. Almost professional. Boundaries in place.
Which was fine with me.
