Page 18 of Pack Plus Three

Ahockey player?

Why hadn’t he told me?

The following day I gave into the urge to look him up online.

My simple search of “Jeremy NHL California” yielded plenty of results.

Jeremy wasn’t just a hockey player—he was widely known as a brutal player. There were several videos of him and a player from the opposite team getting into it.

It was hard to reconcile the videos of this gigantic man brutally punching another player with the sweet alpha who smelled like pure comfort and had insisted I needed a deadbolt on my door and had rescued me from a burst pipe and had fed me for several nights in a row.

After clicking on a few links, I realized another reason why he may not have wanted me to know. It was widely publicized that his last contract was worth millions. So, he wasn't just doing good for himself—he was wealthy. The neighborhood we were living in wasn't exactly a nice one. If I were in his position, I would also want to keep my financial security a secret. Letting people know would just be asking to be burglarized.

My quick search of hockey players revealed that quite a few of them were missing their teeth. Many of their profile pictures included toothy, gapped smiles. I silently gave thanks that Jeremy had all his teeth intact.

Now that I knew so much about him, I started to debate whether I should go over to his apartment. On the one hand, we had discussed seeing each other for dinner again, but on the other hand, I didn't want him to feel like I was using him. He had been feeding me an awful lot. And making my apartment safer.

After sitting on my sofa for what felt like a decade as the sun slowly sank, I finally made the decision to go and talk to him. Now the only issue was getting off the sofa.

Considering I still had three months left in my pregnancy, I was starting to get mildly concerned. If it was already this difficult to get up off the sofa, then I really was going to struggle in my later months.

Opting for the roll off method, I gracefully landed on my knees with a humph and slowly made my way to my feet.

I would have made him cookies. That was one thing I could do that he couldn't; only, ever since the downpour in my kitchen, the oven hadn't been working. I'd attempted to bake some oven fries when a particularly violent craving had hit, only to be sorely disappointed.

When I got to his front door and knocked, I was puffing and panting like I had just run a mile. Not even a full second after I had knocked, the door swung open, and Jeremy stood there with a smile plastered on his face.

Had he been waiting for me?

“You're here!” he exclaimed. “I didn't want to knock in case I woke you. I know how exhausted you've been. Come in. I’ve got spicy rice cakes again. Is that okay?”

“More than okay!” I nodded my head eagerly. His face was already starting to clear up. The bruising was turning yellow, and the graze above his eye was starting to heal over.

“Good.” As he spoke, he opened the door wider, letting me in and leading me to the kitchen. He gestured toward my armchair. “Your throne awaits, milady.”

“You're going to make me spoiled.” I laughed as I took my seat with a happy little moan. The armchair was made of marshmallows, or something equally soft and squishy. It was glorious.

“You deserve to be spoiled,” Jeremy insisted as he stirred a pot, glancing over at me as I wiggled my butt until I was situated just right in my chair.

Gilbert jumped up next to me, lying mostly on the arm of the chair and resting his head on the top of my bump.

“Oh, hello there.” I laughed, petting his sweet, fluffy ears.

“Gilbert!” Jeremy admonished. “Get down from there. You could hurt Daisy!”

“He's okay here. Honestly, it's kind of nice,” I admitted, looking down at the friendly dog. “He's keeping my bump company, it seems.”

Jeremy's gaze softened as he took in the sight of Gilbert resting on me. We must have looked downright domestic.

Is this what life could have been like if I had made different choices? If I had gotten pregnant with an alpha like Jeremy instead of Cole? Curled up in a comfy armchair while a handsome alpha cooked for me and an adorable dog demanded snuggles? It was so vastly different from the reality of my life—yet I was sitting right here.

“He does seem rather comfortable there,” Jeremy agreed.

“Where does he go while you're at practice?” I asked.

“I tried to take him with me, but we're doing so much right now that it's a bit more difficult.”

“I'm still happy to keep an eye on him, if you ever need it. It's the least I can do after you saved my kitchen from totally flooding. I was going to make you some more cookies, but my oven seems to be dying a painful death. I tried to make fries today, and the results were just sad and soggy.” I crinkled my nose as I spoke.

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