Page 31 of The Players Next Door

She tries to pull away, the stubborn set to her jaw telling me she’s ready for a fight. “I don’t need—”

"Stop." Cameron's voice cuts through like a slapshot, fierce and fast. He towers over her, like a protective giant. I’m shocked at his tone. I would have expected it from Jaxon. But Cameron? "You think we'd let you do this alone? Bullshit."

Jaxon steps closer, his presence like a force field. "He’s right. You're ours, Hol. And so is this little one." His hand rests on her still-flat belly, possessive and gentle all at once.

She sobs and nods her head in understanding. Thank fuck. Because I wasn’t above kidnapping her and tying her to my bedpost to make sure she understood. She’s ours. We’re hers. And there is no way in fuck we would walk away from her and our child.

The weeks slide by like periods in a game, fast and full of change. We're at every doctor's appointment, every check-up. While thedoc talks about folic acid and due dates, I watch Holly. She’s strong, so damn strong, but I see the relief when Jaxon cracks a joke, or Cameron reaches out to squeeze her hand.

Work gets harder as her belly grows, but we're there. Jaxon takes over as usual, finagling the cameras to favor her good angles, and Cam’s always hovering nearby, ready to fend off any stress or strain that might slip through the cracks. I handle the heavy lifting—literally and figuratively—making sure she never feels overwhelmed.

Leaning against the studio door frame, I watch Holly in her element, the glow of the camera lights casting a halo around her. She's talking with Colton about the upcoming season, and she’s nailing it. She’s not just getting by—she’s owning the space confidently.

"Colton, what are your thoughts on the upcoming draft?" she asks, her voice smooth and assertive.

I can't help but smirk. Holly's not just good; she's made for this. The way she pauses to give room for his answers, her blue eyes locked on his, she’s all business and it feels right. Colton respects her, values her insight. If only he knew the whole story. But that's our secret, our private play.

To the world, she’s Cameron’s. He always hated the attention from the puck bunnies, so it made sense he’d be the public face of our private relationship. Behind the scenes? It’s still the four of us, always the four of us. Well, soon to be five.

Sawyer finally sold his apartment, and we sold ours too. We found a house just outside the city. It’s still close enough to the arena that it’s not a hike to come to work, but it’s a safer neighborhood. The schools are great, and the yard is big enough for our baby to play in.

Back at home, it's Jaxon who slides the envelope across the kitchen island to Holly. His brown eyes are serious but warm, a silent vow echoing in the silence.

"Doesn't matter what it says," Cameron states simply, leaning against the counter, arms crossed. It's rare when he speaks up first, but when he does, we listen.

"Damn right," Jaxon adds, his dimple flashing despite the tension. Holly takes a deep breath, her delicate fingers tearing open the envelope.

I watch her scan the contents, then let out a slow exhale. She doesn't say the words, doesn't need to. It never mattered to us which one was the father. Her eyes meet mine, then Jaxon's, then Cameron's. Relief, love, certainty—it's all there.

"Ours," she whispers, and that's everything.

"Ours," we affirm together, stepping close, our little huddle a fortress against any storm.

One Year Later…

Life is crazier, louder, better.

I'm rocking gently, my mind drifting. The scent of talcum powder fills my nose as I look down at the most precious gift I’ve ever been given. I wouldn’t trade this for anything, even if I am exhausted.

The door creaks, and in comes Holly, laughter bubbling from her as she spots me trying to keep my eyes open. There's that glow about her, the kind that only motherhood brings.

"Hey, sleepyhead," she teases, coming over to plant a kiss on my forehead.

"Hey yourself," I reply, my voice groggy, but I’m smiling just the same.

Jaxon follows right behind her, the warm bottle in his hand. His brown eyes meet mine, and we share a look that says we wouldn't change any of this for the world.

"Got the goods," he announces, handing over the bottle.

"Thanks, man," I say, grateful for more than just the bottle. For this—us, this bond, this family we've built. It's more than I ever knew I wanted.

"Anytime," he replies, that dimple showing itself off as he watches me take the bottle.

The soft weight of my little girl in my arms is a feeling I never want to let go. Her tiny fingers curl around mine, and it's like she's already got me wrapped around her little finger. Which she does. Completely. I look down into those eyes that are so much like Holly's and my heart just about bursts.

"Finally found them," Cameron grumbles as he steps into the room, his arms full of fluffy, white cloths. "Had to fight through a mountain of onesies and blankets."

"Sorry, man." Jaxon's voice is laced with amusement rather than remorse. He leans against the doorframe, the warm bottle still in his hand. "Laundry isn’t exactly my forte."

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