Page 78 of Playoff

We have lots of other superstitious rituals and things we do that seem to be a habit, but there’s one I particularly love.

Since the playoffs started, Harper has been at every game and Gabe inadvertently started a new pre-game ritual. Just before the first game, she’d been standing outside the locker room door and he leaned over and kissed her stomach. Connor saw him do it and yelled out, “Is that our lucky baby bump?”

“It’s notouranything,” Gabe had said, scowling at him.

“Aw, come on, it’s our first Baby Phantom! We should all tap the belly.”

“Absolutely not!” Gabe looked murderous, but Harper was a good sport.

“No, I think it’s great,” she said. “Anyone who wants to—very gently—tap a stick or their hand on my belly is welcome to.”

“Veryfucking gently,” Gabe growled.

And every single guy on the team did it.

We’ve done it every game since too.

Tonight is no exception, and Harper is standing right outside the door to the locker room. Gabe always leads us out and he leans over, kissing her bump and whispering something I can’t hear. Harper just smiles and looks to Canyon, who’s next.

One by one, we stop in front of Harper and touch her belly. It’s quick, and most of us don’t say anything, but sometimes I do.

Because I think it’s fun.

Also because I want her to know me, like me,rememberme.

It never hurts to get on the good side of the owner of the team you play for.

“How are you feeling?” I ask her as I bump my fist against her belly.

“Now that I’m past the first trimester, I have energy again,” she says, “so I’m good. Have a great game, Blake.”

“Thank you.” I walk down the hall and see Rowan and Sunny doing something. Rowan looks up as I pass, though, and we share a soft, secret smile.

I hate sneaking around but there’s also a part of me that kind of likes it.

It’s our secret, something no one gets to share or be part of. The only people who have any input are the two of us, and right now, we’re very much in sync. Both physically and emotionally. I think we’re going to need another discussion about the future, but I’m not sure what to say.

So much is up in the air.

And I have to figure out what to do about hockey.

Even if it means we’ll have to be apart for a season or two. We can make it work if we have a plan.

We just have to come up with the plan first.

But that means having a potentially difficult conversation, which makes me nervous. Everything is so good I don’t want to rock the proverbial boat.

I need time to prove to her I’m the man she needs me to be, but I’m afraid of what’s going to happen once the playoffs are over.

Especially if they end soon.

We win game two 4-0,shutting out the Sidewinders and getting a huge morale boost to boot. We’re cautiously optimistic afterward, and I’m surprised when several members of the press ask to talk to me specifically. I didn’t score tonight, but I had two assists and am still tied for first in points in the series.

“Blake, how does it feel to know you’re tied with Canyon Marks for points in these playoffs?” one asks.

“It’s trippy,” I reply. “Canyon is an elite player, so just being on the ice with him every night is huge.”

“Do you plan to come back to the Phantoms in the fall?”

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