Page 67 of Puck Princess

As I turn back around, I can feel his eyes drilling holes in the back of my head.

“Is that code for going out on a date with the coach’s niece?”

“It’s code for ‘I have an appointment, and what goes on in my family is none of your fucking business.’”

It’s an OB appointment, and anyone who has been paying attention to the news could probably guess that, but Callie is still trying to keep the pregnancy on the downlow.

“You’re not her family,” Spencer mumbles. “You’re her flavor of the week.”

I have the urge to turn him into a human popsicle with my hockey stick, but I get off the ice and head straight for the locker room.

See? I can walk away from a fight. It might take a cold shower with balled fists to accomplish it, but I can do it.

“Park as close to the doors as possible,” I tell the driver as we pull up to the doctor’s office. “Don’t park next to anyone else. If there are any cameramen, do a lap. I don’t care if we’re fifteen minutes late.”

The press has backed off a ton, but I’m not ready to relax just yet. It helps that Spencer Santos and his dad crashing into the Houston sports scene has taken some of the heat off, though I’ll never ever admit that.

“You want him to get out and check the bushes too?” Callie asks.

“Good ide—” I start to say, then I look at her. She’s biting back a coy smile.

She pats my thigh. “I’m sorry. I know you’re just trying to keep us safe.”

I get out, walk around to her side, and open her door. “Sorry for caring so much about you and our son.”

“Oh, so it’s a boy now?”

I half shrug. “I don’t know. Just a thought. I’d be happy with either.”

She kisses my cheek as she slides out. “Me too.”

Things have been tense between us the last week, but it’s mostly becauseI’vebeen tense. I spent the last few months taking care of Summer and Callie, managing the nonstop barrage of chaos in my personal life, and I let hockey slip through the cracks. Now, I’m paying the consequences. Coach needs me to prove I’m right for the team, and I will. Because I am. It’s just taken me a second to adjust to the new pressures, but I know Callie and I will figure it out.

We head inside. I continue to survey the area, but the coast seems clear. Still, I don’t take any chances. While Callie signs in, I text the driver and tell him to leave the parking lot, but stay close in case we need him to hurry back. Then I scan the waiting room.

“I really think it’s okay to relax,” Callie says, typing away on the tablet they gave her for check in.

“I’ve been doing this for years. You can’t let your guard down, ever. Especially when the stakes are this high.”

She smiles at me. God, she’s beautiful. For being pregnant and going through everything she’s been through, she is insanely calm. It’s like the natural instincts that come with motherhood are already setting in.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” she asks, her eyes softening into a question I think she already knows the answer to.

But I tell her, anyway.

“Because you’re beautiful. Carrying my baby looks good on you. And because you’re the most resilient person I know.”

She smiles up at me. Our faces seem to gravitate together.

Without a word, we fall into a kiss that is only interrupted by a heavy sigh of admiration. We break apart and an older woman is smiling at us.

“Sorry,” Callie apologizes, wiping her lip as her cheeks redden.

The woman waves her away. “Oh, don’t be sorry, dear. I think it’s lovely. First baby?”

“How could you tell?” Callie asks.

“First time mothers have a specific glow about them. That and the father looks nervous as a turkey at the end of October.”

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