Page 63 of Santa's Pucking Hat Trick

“I’m sorry for…for hiding it,” I told them quietly. They’d closed in around me so that despite the party still continuing around us as normal, they could hear every word. “I didn’t want to…I don’t know. Trap any of you. I didn’t want to ruin what we have.”

Wes, always the quietest of the three, finally spoke, his voice tight. “Do you know which one?”

The question hit me like a punch to the gut, and I gasped, my vision blurring with fresh tears. He was asking about paternity, and I saw the same question dawn on Roman and Sawyer at the same time. When I finally gathered the courage to speak, my voice was barely a whisper. “It…it could be any of you. I’m sorry.”

Roman let out a bitter laugh, his fists clenched at his sides. “So that’s it? We’re all just supposed to what—stick around and hope we’re the lucky one?”

“I didn’t ask for this,” I cried, my hands trembling. “None of you are obligated to me, okay? I can do it on my own.”

The silence that followed was suffocating. Roman shook his head, his expression a mix of rage and betrayal. “You don’t even trust us enough to tell us? And now you’re giving us some kind of out? Like we’re not capable of being there for you?”

Sawyer cursed under his breath, running a hand through his hair. “We thought we were building something real here.”

“I’m sorry,” I whispered, my voice cracking. “I didn’t know what to do. I…I still don’t know what to do. How I even feel.”

Without another word, the three of them turned and walked away, leaving me standing there, shattered and alone.

I wandered through the glittering gala, numb to the sounds of laughter and holiday cheer around me. I needed to find somewhere to hide, somewhere to cry where no one would see me fall apart. But before I could escape, Michael found me. Hisfamiliar face softened when he saw the tears streaking down my cheeks.

“Rach?” His voice was gentle as he guided me to a quiet corner. “What’s going on? Talk to me.”

I hesitated, but the dam inside me broke, and everything spilled out. “You won’t like it, but I’m pregnant, Michael. And I don’t know who the father is, and I think I’ve ruined everything with—with the guys. Your friends. Your teammates.”

Michael’s eyes widened, but instead of the anger I expected, he pulled me into a hug. “Oh, Rach…”

I sobbed into his shoulder, letting it all out—the fear, the guilt, the heartbreak. “I didn’t mean for it to be like this.”

He stroked my hair, his voice soft. “It’s okay. You’re going to be okay. They just need time to process it. And I’m here, no matter what.”

I pulled back, wiping my eyes. “You’re not mad?”

Michael gave me a small smile. “I mean, it’s a lot to take in, but…I’ve known something was going on with you three for a while now. I just wish you’d told me instead of letting me figure it out from other people.”

“I’m sorry,” I whispered.

He sighed, but his smile didn’t fade. “I just want you to be happy, Rach. Even if it’s with my best friends.”

I could hardly believe the maturity my goofy, sweet, ever-present twin was showing. Especially after I’d royally fucked everything—no pun intended. Before I could express my gratitude, though, Michael piped up with another, more in-character thought.

“And hey, if this kid is a boy, I think you should name him Michael. You know, in exchange for the psychological damage you’ve caused me by boinking my friends.”

I let out a teary laugh, my heart breaking and healing all at once. Maybe I hadn’t ruined everything after all. I always had my family, and now, I had a new family member on the way.

I’d never thought of myself as particularly maternal, but knowing I was pregnant…hell, it was a whole new scenario I’d never taken the time to consider despite my tendency to plan and replan and overplan every aspect of my future. Family felt like something that happened to me, not something I chose to make. That love, that blood bond, had always been important to me, and it snapped into place without giving me a moment to think. This wasmybaby. A brand new life. More than that, it was a life I was building myself—and it was half Sawyer, Wes, and Roman too.

Not biologically, of course. I was a marketing director, not a geneticist, but I wasn’t stupid enough to think that all three of the guys could have gotten me pregnant at once. But from the second I’d found out about the baby, I wasn’t the slightest bit worried about who had fathered them; in my heart, stupid and now broken as it was, this baby was ours. All four of us.

This Christmas, it seemed, was going to be a lot more complicated than I had ever imagined.

36

WES

“Hey, Robbins! Get your head out of your ass and chase the puck, will you?”

The shout came from across the ice, cutting through the roar of the crowd and the cold slap of the wind against my face. I turned to see our coach glaring at me from the other end of the rink, looking ready to bash some sense into me if the words didn’t work. He wasn’t wrong, though. I was playing like shit, and I knew it.

I tried to shake it off, to focus as the puck dropped again and I sliced across the ice with my skates. But no matter how hard I pushed myself, everything still felt off. The game was moving in a blur around me, players colliding, sticks clashing, but my mind kept drifting back to Rachel. To her face the last time I saw her, that teary expression of pure hurt, like I’d let her down in ways I didn’t even understand yet.

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