Page 79 of Hat Trick Daddies

Brooks nods, his expression unreadable. His usually sharp eyes seem clouded, his mouth set in a grim line. Tyler and I exchange a glance before launching into rapid-fire questions.

“Is she over us?”

“Does she hate us?”

“Is she calling the whole thing off?” I ask, my words tripping over themselves as they rush out.

Brooks raises a hand, silencing us both. “It’s none of that,” he says, his voice low but steady.

The relief is brief, a flicker that’s extinguished by what he says next.

“She’s pregnant.”

The words hit like a freight train. I blink, my mind racing to catch up with what he’s just said. Tyler freezes beside me, his mouth slightly open as if he’s about to say something but can’t quite form the words.

“Pregnant?” I finally echo, my voice barely above a whisper. My heart thunders in my chest. “Are…are you sure? When did she tell you this?”

Brooks nods, his shoulders sagging slightly as if saying it out loud takes the weight off him just a little. “She told me at the hospital the other night. She doesn’t know whose it is.”

Tyler lets out a low whistle, finally breaking his silence. “Holy shit,” he breathes. “That’s…a lot. Why didn’t you say something sooner?”

He sighs, his grip on the counter tightening. The air feels heavy, and for once, even Tyler seems at a loss for what to say.

“I just…” he starts to say. “I just felt like it would change things, and I wasn’t sure if you two would even want to know.Which is shitty of me, I realized that as I was driving around this morning, trying to get up the nerve to tell you guys.”

“That is pretty crappy that you’d think we wouldn’t step up for her and the baby,” I say, hurt clear in my voice.

He nods, looking wretched. “I know. I’m sorry.”

The three of us are still standing there in stunned silence when a simultaneous chime rings out, breaking the moment. Tyler and I both grab for our phones instinctively, the sharp buzz vibrating in my hand as I glance at the screen.

“An email?” Tyler asks, frowning as he unlocks his phone.

“Yeah,” I murmur, my brows knitting together as I open the message. The subject line is blank, but the contents are far from empty. My stomach drops as the photos load.

It’s us. All of us. In the hallways of the rink, at Surf’s Up, even in the parking lot after practice.

The pictures aren’t overtly damning, no one’s kissing or doing anything explicitly inappropriate, but the way we’re standing, the way we’re looking at each other, it’s clear we’re more than just colleagues.

In one shot, I’ve got my hand on Ally’s shoulder, Tyler’s standing close enough that their arms are brushing, and Brooks is gazing at her like she’s the only person in the room. The intimacy in the images is unmistakable.

“Shit,” Tyler mutters, scrolling through the pictures. “These look bad. Really bad.”

I keep staring at the screen, my heart pounding.

Below the images is a single line of text:What would you do to make sure no one else knows?

Brooks’ phone clatters onto the counter, his jaw tight as he glares at the screen like he’s about to throw it against the wall. His hands curl into fists at his sides, the tension radiating off him like heat.

“Ally’s in the email thread,” Tyler says, his voice quieter now, but still laced with alarm. He scrolls back up, confirming it. “She’s been CC’d.”

Before either of us can react, Brooks’ phone starts buzzing loudly against the counter, the vibrations cutting through the heavy silence. We all look down at it at the same time.

Ally’s name flashes across the screen.

Brooks doesn’t answer right away. He stares at the phone, his face a mix of anger and hesitation. Tyler glances at me, his eyebrows raised. “Aren’t you going to answer that?”

Brooks doesn’t respond, his gaze locked on the screen. The phone buzzes again, persistently, as if Ally herself is calling out to him through it.

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