Page 250 of Staying Selfless

“Hi, baby,” I bend down, effortlessly swooping her up, holding her to my chest.

“Two goals,” she states, poking me in the cheeks before resting her head on my shoulder. I rub the length of her back as she yawns. It’s way past her bedtime, but it was our home opener of the season, so I wanted her here.

Besides, she loves hockey. Not only does she like watching me play, but she’s already a little monster on skates. Logan and I took her back to the pond in Minnesota where I proposed, and I taught her how to skate on the same ice that helped calmed me down all those years ago. It was quite the full-circle moment for me, seeing my daughter following in my footsteps.

I look up through the small crowd outside of our locker room, my eyes immediately catching Logan’s as she stays hidden towards the back. We give each other a soft smile from across the hall as Ella tightens her hold around my neck, feeling sleepy.

“I can take her,” my dad offers.

“Papa,” Ella murmurs in her sedated state as I transfer her over to my dad’s arms. “Love you.”

“I love you too, sweet girl,” my dad laughs as Ella melts into his shoulder and quickly falls asleep.

“Baby Mama.” I circle my hands on Logan’s round belly before sliding them around and settling them on her ass. I hide my face in the crook of her neck, one of my favorite places to be. “Hi.”

“Hi,” she whispers, her arms wrapping around my shoulders, holding me. Or as much as she can with this belly between us.

“Nice game.”

“Thank you.” I tilt my head to kiss her collarbone, then her pretty lips.

I still love this tattoo of hers, but now that Logan has two, I can’t pick favorites.

Two days after our wedding day, I got my left ring finger tattooed where my ring rests. It’s just her initial. A small ‘-L’ from the notes we would write each other in college. I knew that I wouldn’t be allowed to wear my wedding band when I was playing hockey, and that didn’t sit right with me, so I got her tattooed on me as soon as possible.

Then, when Logan was pregnant with Ella, her fingers swelled up to the point where she couldn’t wear her ring anymore. She hated that almost as much as I did, so after she gave birth, she got her ring finger tattooed with ‘-E’ from the notes I used to write, and still write for her.

And once again, she can’t wear her ring at nine months pregnant, so her tattoo is the perfect placeholder.

I thread my fingers through hers, lifting them to my lips and kissing her newest ink.

“Are you still feeling okay?” I rub my hands all over her stomach.

“I’m ready for this baby to be out. They’re killing my back.”

“We could go take a walk,” I suggest. “Go eat some spicy food. Go have a shit ton of sex,” I add with a suggestive smirk.

“Actually,” Logan pauses. “Can we? Sex worked last time.”

“Fuck yeah, we can! You don’t have to ask me twice. Hey, Papa and Gigi?” I turn towards my parents. “You guys feel like having a sleepover with your granddaughter tonight?”

“Absolutely!” Mary beams.

“Cool, Logan and I are gonna get this baby out, if you know what I mean.”

Logan swats me in the chest. “I can’t with you,” she laughs. “We’ve just got to be careful because Ali doesn’t fly in until tomorrow afternoon, and she will kill me if I give birth before she’s here.”

“It’s her fault for waiting so long to move here in the first place. If she’s so concerned about missing the birth, she should’ve been here weeks ago. Hell, she should’ve moved here years ago.”

“Just be happy we finally convinced her to make the move.”

“Speaking of,” I begin. “Where’s Marc?”

“He left right after the game. I think he’s freaking out a little bit, trying to figure out a way to explain to his brand new girlfriend that the woman he was in love with in college is finally moving to Chicago.”

“This is going to be a shit show.” I can’t help but laugh.

“I don’t know. Marc and Ali have been friends ever since our wedding. Practically best friends. Maybe it’ll be okay.”

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