Page 148 of The Rulebreaker
“Now they’re just being delivered by the stork? Slow down, guys. I’ll never catch up.” I laugh and look back at my friends.
They all have confused expressions on their faces—eyebrows drawn, downturned smiles, widened eyes.
“It was a joke. Excuse me, Rubes, I got somewhere to be.” I try to slide past her, but she thrusts the carrier at me. “Rubes?”
I peek my head in the carrier. The baby is cute. Dark hair with a slight auburn tint. From the blue clothes, I assume it’s a boy, but who really knows. “He’s cute.” I twist my body to get past her and through the door.
“This was just delivered for you.” She leaves me no choice but to grab the carrier in my arms.
“Funny, Rubes. Last thing I ordered from Uber Eats was Thai food, not a baby.”
The sound of chairs scraping across the floor echoes through the room, and suddenly all the women are huddled at my side.
“Oh, he is cute,” Leighton says.
“He has the most adorable little nose.” Callie taps it lightly with her index finger.
“And looks at his little lips moving as he sleeps.” Penelope reaches in and runs her finger down his arm.
“What’s going on, Rubes?” I look after her, but she’s already half out the door.
“A guy came in and said there was a delivery for someone here. Your name is on the letter.”
“Letter?” Callie reaches in and finds it sandwiched between the baby’s arm and the side of the carrier.
Sure enough, my name is on the envelope. And so there could be no mistake that it was meant for some other Easton, my jersey number is scribbled right next to my name.
“Holy shit,” Decker mumbles behind me.
I turn and place the baby carrier on the table, and everyone surrounds the little one.
“Can I hold it?” Monroe asks.
“Not now, sweetie,” Leighton says.
“What is this? A joke?” I look around, hoping someone else is connecting the dots differently than I am.
“I don’t think it’s a joke, Kodiak, I think you’re a dad.” Hayes reaches the same conclusion I have.
“Hey,” Callie says quickly, grabbing my arm. “Breathe.”
I try.
My ears start ringing.
The edges of my vision go fuzzy.
And I’m vaguely aware of more chairs skidding along the floor right before everything goes black.
