Page 89 of Pucked and Pregnant

“When did you guys start being a thing?” he asks cautiously.

“The summer I was sixteen,” I tell him with a sigh. I smile in spite of my fragile feelings. It had been a summer to remember, and I still don’t regret anything about it.

Max takes this in, his jaw still flexing as he holds back his feelings. “That’s a lot of years of history,” he says to me.

I nod. “We intended for it to stay in the past, Max, and it did. But then I got this job, and we were all together all the time again and it just all came flooding back.”

“Liv, if the press already knows about this, things are going to get really tough for you, really quickly. Not to be selfish, but this impacts all of us on the team, as well. We have a real shot at the Stanley Cup this year. I don’t want this whole thing to cause a major scandal.”

I blow out a breath and nod. “Don’t think I haven’t been thinking about that for weeks now,” I tell him. “I haven’t quite figured out what to do, but I will make this right, Max.”

Max’s expression turns angry again and he shakes his head. “My friends are the ones who need to make things right. After all, they knocked you up—one of them anyway—and they need to step up and make it public that you guys are in a real relationship. This is just shitty.”

I hold up a hand to stop him. “Wait a second before you get really angry at them. I haven’t told them about the baby yet.”

He swings around to stare at me. “What? Why not? Liv, that’s not cool.”

I can’t help but smile a little at my brother’s wildly fluctuating emotions. He’s gone from being angry at the press to being mad at his friends, to being mad at me. I do sympathize, however. He’s basically caught in the middle of all of this without warning.

“Think about it for a second,” I tell him gently. “You guys have the playoffs just around the corner. You’ve been waiting your whole lives for this kind of chance. You need to have your heads in the game, not on me. Besides, we never agreed to making this serious or a long-term thing. We didn’t talk about babies or committed relationships. It’s a big change in the dynamic.”

“I don’t care. They need to make it right. I’m calling them, and we’re having a family meeting,” Max states, rummaging for his phone in his pocket.

“Max, stop it!” I say firmly. “I don’t need you to avenge me or force one of them to come forward to the press and say they’re my boyfriend and that they’re stepping up. That’s not going to help anything at all.”

Max scowls at me, and I can see the hurt beneath his fierce expression. I feel awful, just like I knew I would.

“I wanted to wait until after the game to tell anyone about this. I knew it would affect the four of you and the team. I didn’t want you guys to be fighting when the match rolled around.”

Max looks away from me, his fingers worrying over the edges of his phone. “The problem is, Liv, that I know now. Do you really think it’s fair for me to carry this burden all by myself? How do I look those guys in the face now that I know your dirty little secret? That’s a lot to ask.”

I wanted to remind him that he didn’t have to pry, that he could have just helped me get home without badgering me about the things the reporters were saying. I wanted to remind him that my personal life was my own business, even if he did find out about it.

But I also know that the bonds between members of a sports team run just as deep and are just as relevant as the bonds that people form in romantic relationships. The guys on the team work like a single organism when they play. They need to be in tune with one another and be able to trust each other.

This news will make it hard for Max to feel comfortable with them even if I had told the boys about the baby.

“Just let me handle this, okay?” I plead. “Let me figure it all out with them before you start crashing around like a bull in a China shop.”

“Fine,” Max agrees with a long sigh. “But can you please let me know when you’ve let the cat, er baby, out of the bag? I hate secrets, and I don’t want to have to tiptoe around them all the time.”

“We still have a couple of weeks. Can you just get through the game, and then I can tell them? I can’t deal with my job, the press, and all four of you hating me at the same time.” I press my fingers to my temples to try and stave off the headache that is lingering behind my eyes.

Max reaches out and touches my hand again. His voice is soft as he says, “Hey, I don’t hate you. I was just really shocked, okay? I’m always here for you, Liv. If the boys don’t want to be there for you, I will be the best damn uncle that baby could ever hope for.”

I meet his gaze, tears threatening again.

“Thank you,” I tell him. “I love you, Max.”

He smiles at me for the first time since we got in the car and squeezes my hand. “I love you too. Come on. Let’s get you inside and get you in bed. You need a nap, I think, and some peace and quiet.”

As my brother helps me out of the car and leads me toward my place, I realize just how right he is. I have been racing through my days on adrenaline and barely restrained panic for weeks now. I feel completely and totally burned out.

But I have to admit, it felt good to tell Max about the baby, along with the rest. It’s one huge hurdle out of the way. Now, all I have to do is make it through the toughest media spotlight of my life before telling the boys that they’re going to be a father.

Piece of cake, right?

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