Page 4 of Pucks and Likes

I make a face, which is ridiculous since I all but asked him to leave. Why am I sad that he’s leaving after I made it clear nothing could blossom from this thing between us? Maybe I shouldn’t be so harsh, but that’s how I protect myself. There is no future for us. Alex ends the call before bringing my hand up to his mouth. He kisses my knuckles then each of my fingers before reaching for me by the back of my neck. The action sends my heart into overdrive as he pulls me to him, pressing his lips to mine in an all-consuming kiss. A kiss that has my stomach flip-flopping, my nipples hardening, and my toes curling.

A goodbye kiss.

When he pulls back, it’s much too soon, but then his words hit me like the forty-one frozen pucks that pelted him when he was in goal.

Unlike him, I find it hard to bat them away, and I feel every single one.

“Well, I guess you got what you wanted. I’ve been called up to the Nashville Assassins.”

CHAPTER 1

Elliot

Fate has a funny way of fucking you right in the ass.

Without lube.

Shit, without even spit.

I wish I didn’t think about that night.

A night I’m about ninety percent sure is the night I got pregnant by Alejandro Cruz.

Fucking fate.

I didn’t want to be tied to anyone. I didn’t want anyone to own me—or to depend on anyone for happiness. So, I pushed away a good guy, not knowing he was leaving a gift behind for me. A gift that I will be forever tied to and that will depend on me greatly.

A child.

My child.

Our child.

I bite my cheek as I stroke my stomach under my desk. I was in denial for a while there, and I didn’t want to accept that I was truly pregnant. I took a lot of pregnancy tests, and even when the doctor told me the truth, I couldn’t believe it. I don’t know why I was so surprised; we fucked like rabbits and never used condoms. There was always a chance, but I thought I was invincible. I was just having fun, and now, our fun has ten toes and ten fingers.

It has a heartbeat that owns me completely.

I swallow past the fear that settles in my chest as I absent-mindedly stroke my somewhat-flat stomach. I am very small, according to my doctor, due to my eating habits and the hard-core working out I did before I got pregnant. While I’m six months along, I only look three, maybe four. The only reason I know there is someone in there is because they kick me a lot. Almost as if they’re letting me know they’re aware I haven’t told their dad about them and they’re not happy about it. Even though I don’t have a round belly, I still stroke my little person. But even as I do it, I find myself glancing at the door to make sure no one is around. Thankfully, the door is closed.

Since no one knows I’m pregnant.

Not my sisters, my peepaw, my coworkers, and especially not Alejandro Cruz.

I don’t know why I haven’t told anyone.

I think, at first, I was embarrassed. I’d gotten knocked up by a hockey player in his prime on his way to the NHL. It’s so clichéd, and I felt stupid. How could I explain to my sisters that I didn’t use protection and got myself pregnant? Louisa was always so dead set on none of us ever being touched without a condom, to make sure we protected ourselves, and I had. I really had. But I trusted Alex, and honestly, I wanted to feel every bit of his thick cock with nothing between us. Not that I’d tell her that. While I know my sisters and know they’d never judge me, I judge myself harshly.

It’s an endless cycle.

I haven’t told my peepaw because I’d rather he not be the victim of a heart attack. He’s getting a bit up there in years, and he has made it known he doesn’t want any more hockey players in the family.

Well, sorry, Peepaw. You’re about to have a grandchild from a hockey player.

I know he’ll be happy for me once all the shock wears off. I don’t know why I haven’t told anyone. Not sure what I’m waiting for. I really should start buying stuff for the kid, but I don’t know how to hide all the things I buy, and I don’t know what I’m having. I’m not a fan of yellow, so I don’t feel like buying anything. That doesn’t mean that my Amazon cart isn’t overflowing, and when I finally hit that buy button, I’ll be in debt.

“I should start buying things for you,” I say to the little person inside me. They kick me as if to agree, and I can’t help the little smirk that pulls at my lips. It’s nice to have someone to talk to and not feel crazy for speaking out loud. Who am I kidding? I am a crazy person.

I pat my belly, grateful that since I’m not showing much, it’s been easy to hide. I just wear oversized shirts that are totally in style right now. Especially when I’m in my Knoxville Bears gear, no one even bats an eye at me. I know Clara, my baby sister, would have noticed if I wore my regular clothes, but even she hasn’t asked why I’m not wearing a sports bra and shorts to the gym anymore. Thankfully, it’s been colder than a witch’s tit, and I’ve been able to get away with my oversized clothes. Since no one has asked about my wardrobe changes or weight gain, I haven’t had to tell anyone, but I know that period is coming to an end. The kid will make themselves known one day, and I really should grow the balls to tell everyone before then.

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