Page 179 of From Now On

EVE: This is nniiicceeee!

EVE: *photo attachment*

They go on and on, ending with:

EVE: We’re right by the giant photo of Conor!

I glance at Conor, who’s talking with Aidan. I don’t think a “giant photo” got approved, either.

He came here for me. One week after a devastating end to the season—Tampa Bay lost the series in game six—I know Conor would rather be relaxing on a beach in Italy. But instead we flew to Seattle so he could attend the opening ceremony for the new rink named after him.

Everyone’s here—the Garrisons, Conor’s mom and his stepfather, plus Aidan, Rylan, Hunter, Eve, and a bunch of Conor’s college teammates. We’re spending the next few days at the house Anna bought after her wedding, and our time in Claremont will inevitably include Hugh, Allison, and Landon. And while Conor’s relationships with my honorary parents and brother are a lot more civil than when he and I were in college, history never disappears. It just fades more and more over time.

It’s a hope I’ve never voiced aloud, not even to Conor, but I’m praying this pregnancy will mend things a little more. I’m certain the Garrisons would love any baby I had like it was their own grandchild, but this baby—Conor’s baby—istheir own grandchild. On harder days when Conor’s been away or I’ve been missing my mom and dad more than usual, that thought—that feeling ofrightness—has kept me going.

Before we walk inside, Conor takes my hand. We enter the double doors and immediately hit a wall of noise. The level of which increases considerably when everyone in the lobby realizes who’s just arrived.

We’realmostlate for the scheduled ceremony. I only packed a few dresses, but I tried on all of them multiple times before settling on my outfit.

I’m almost three months pregnant. Barely showing, unless you look at my bare belly from a side angle. But I’m conscious of my body in a way I’ve never been before, wanting to look good for Conor and not wanting anyone to suspect our news before we can announce it.

“You’rehere!” Eve shoves through the crowd in the lobby to throw her arms around me. Conor’s hand drops from mine as his attention gets pulled in another direction. “Ugh, it’s beenwaytoo long.”

“Move to Florida,” I suggest, squeezing her back.

“Move to New York,” she counters. “Better donuts.”

I laugh before letting go. “We’re going to Holey Moley after this, right?”

Eve gives me anAre you crazy?look. “We stopped on the way here. There’s a dozen in the car. Well, a dozen minus the two I already ate.”

“You’re the best,” I tell her, then glance at Hunter, who’s appeared behind Eve. She leans back against her fiancé, craning her neck and smiling up at him. He kisses the top of her head before focusing on me.

“Hey, Harlow.”

“Hi, Hunter. So happy you guys made it. Thanks for coming all this way.”

“He wasthrilledabout stopping in Wyoming and visiting his family.” Eve speaks before Hunter can. “Until we got to Casper and the whole time was spent wedding planning.” She pokesHunter’s arm. “It’s your fault, you know. If you hadn’t planned such a romantic proposal, I wouldn’t feel likeIhave to plan such a romantic wedding.”

“Let’s elope,” Hunter suggests. “Problem solved.”

“Don’t you dare,” I tell them. “I would be devastated if I missed your wedding. Although?—”

Eve tilts her head. “Although what?”

I haven’t told anyone except Conor that I’m pregnant. Since Eve’s been talking about a winter wedding, there’s a chance I’ll be too far along to travel or caring for a newborn by then. And Conor will be in season…

“Who wants to see Benny?” Aidan pushes into our circle, proudly displaying his daughter and saving me from having to reply.

I glance around, spotting Conor talking to Coach Keller and Rylan. “I’ll see you guys after the ceremony.”

They’re all too distracted by the baby to reply.

As I walk toward Conor, I take in the lobby for the first time. It’s twice the size as I remember the former space being. There are stairs against the far wall, leading to additional seating on the second level, an impressive stone fireplace, and several full-color photos that stretch floor to ceiling. Most are of multiple players, but the center one is solely of Conor, crouched over the puck in preparation for a face-off with a look of intense concentration on his face.

I survey it as if I’m staring at a stranger.

He's really hot, I remember-slash-realize.

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