Page 111 of Slap Shot Daddies

Braden nudges me playfully as I return to my seat, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “See? Easy,” he teases.

I shoot him a glare, though a smile tugs at my lips. “I hate you,” I retort, my voice laced with mock irritation.

He chuckles, his grin widening. “Nah, you love me,” he replies, a warmth in his eyes that I can't deny.

The door swings open with a soft whoosh, and a young nurse with honey-blonde hair pulled back into a neat ponytail and sharp brown eyes steps confidently into the room.

She glances down at her clipboard, scanning the list of names before calling out in a clear voice, “Kenzie Wood?”

I stand up from the stiff waiting room chair, and immediately, all three guys, Reggie, Braden, and Ambrose, rise from their seats beside me, their movements almost synchronized.

The nurse blinks in surprise, her eyebrows raising slightly. “Uh, okay. All of you can…come back, I guess,” she says, a hint of confusion in her tone.

I shoot her an apologetic smile, feeling a bit embarrassed as we trail behind her down the long, narrow hallway. The scent of rubbing alcohol and latex gloves intensifies with each step, combining with the sterile coldness that seems to seep from the white-tiled floors and walls.

She stops in front of a scale, gesturing for me to step on. “Step up for your weight.”

I comply, feeling the eyes of the three guys on my back, each of them awkwardly shifting their gaze, pretending not to watch.

I step off quickly, my cheeks heating up with embarrassment.

Reggie leans casually against the wall, arms crossed over his chest. “Didn’t realize we were all getting judged here,” he comments, a teasing grin playing on his lips.

The nurse just hums noncommittally, jotting something down on her clipboard before gesturing for us to follow her into the exam room. The paper on the examination table crinklesloudly as I sit down, my palms clammy and pressed against my thighs.

She moves efficiently as she takes my vitals, cool fingers pressing gently against my wrist while the blood pressure cuff squeezes my arm with a firm grip, almost uncomfortably tight.

“The doctor will be in shortly,” she says, casting another curious glance at the trio accompanying me before exiting the room.

Braden chuckles, leaning back in the chair he’s claimed. “Think we freaked her out?” he asks, amusement dancing in his eyes.

I roll my eyes, trying to appear unaffected, but my heart is pounding in my chest, a relentless drumbeat that betrays my nerves.

The door swings open with a gentle creak, and Dr. Patel enters the room, exuding both warmth and professionalism. She’s a woman in her fifties, her dark hair meticulously pinned into a sleek bun, and her glasses rest firmly on her nose, giving her an air of authority.

She surveys us with a discerning look, her brow arching in curiosity. “Well, this is a first,” she remarks, her voice carrying a mix of surprise and amusement.

My throat tightens, and I can feel the heat rising up my neck, spreading across my cheeks. Dr. Patel flips through the pages of my chart with practiced ease, her eyes flicking back to us with interest.

“So, which one of you is the father?” she asks, her tone both clinical and gentle.

The room falls into a profound silence. Braden shifts uncomfortably beside me, then leans forward, his voice unwavering as he speaks. “We’re all here for Kenzie, Doc.”

Dr. Patel studies our group intently, her gaze softening as understanding dawns. She nods, a gentle smile tugging at her lips. “All right then.”

I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding, feeling the tension slowly unravel from my shoulders. She rolls the ultrasound machine towards us, the wheels gliding smoothly over the tiled floor.

“You guys excited to hear the baby’s heartbeat?” she asks, her voice brightening with enthusiasm.

Reggie’s face lights up with a wide grin. “Aye, can’t bloody wait,” he exclaims, his accent adding a cheerful lilt to his words.

Ambrose squeezes my hand reassuringly, his touch grounding me. And for the first time in what feels like forever, a profound sense of safety envelops me, filling the room with its comforting presence.

The gel on my stomach is a cold, sticky discomfort, sending a shiver through me as I lean back against the crinkling paper-covered exam table. The dim ultrasound screen casts a soft blue glow, flickering with static before Dr. Patel deftly maneuvers the probe across my lower abdomen, her eyes focused and steady.

“All right,” she murmurs, her voice a calm reassurance. “Let’s see what we have here.”

The room holds its breath in silence, and then, suddenly, the rhythmic, whooshing sound of a heartbeat fills the air, a gentle symphony echoing through the small space.

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