Page 78 of Slap Shot Daddies

“Hey…hey,” he murmurs, drawing me into his chest.

His scent envelops me. A whisper of woodsy cologne, and something unmistakablyhimand takes me back to our tryst. The warmth of his body seeps into mine as his strong arms envelop me.

I clutch at his shirt, feeling the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest beneath my cheek, a steady presence that grounds me. His heartbeat thumps softly against my ear, a comforting, familiar rhythm.

His hand glides up and down my back, a slow and reassuring touch, while his other hand gently strokes the back of my head, fingers threading through my hair.

“What’s wrong, Kenz?” he whispers into my hair, his voice tinged with worry. “You’re scaring me.”

I part my lips to speak, but the words catch in my throat.I'm pregnant.The confession is lodged there, but I can't seem to force it out.

Instead, I manage to stammer, “I…I just…it’s been a rough week.”

He leans back slightly, his thumb brushing a tear from my cheek with tender care. “I’m here. We all are. You know that, right?”

I nod, swallowing the lump in my throat. I need to tell him, but not here, not now.

“I’m heading to the clinic after this. Come by?” I suggest weakly, searching for a way to bring him closer. “Maybe…maybe you can help out a little?”

He offers a gentle, reassuring smile. “Of course. I’ll wait by your Jeep,” he promises, his warmth lingering as he releases me.

I pull myself together, wiping my tear-streaked cheeks with a crumpled tissue as Braden leaves the room, leaving behind an echo of his presence.

The room falls into a hushed silence, punctuated only by the soft sounds of the birds perched in their cages, their beady eyes fixed on me with curious attentiveness.

I take a deep breath, focusing on slow, deliberate movements as I prepare their breakfast, the seeds and fruit a welcome distraction from the racing thoughts tumbling through my mind.

The sunflower seeds crackle against the birds' beaks, a rhythmic crunch breaking the stillness.

When I finally gather my files, the folder feels disproportionately heavy in my hands, as if it holds not just papers, but the weight of the future.

Its edges dig into my palms, a physical reminder of the decisions and uncertainties looming ahead.

Stepping outside I catch sight of Braden leaning against my Jeep, his silhouette outlined by the morning light. His hands are buried deep in the pockets of his faded hoodie.

The sunlight plays across his features, accentuating the rich darkness of his hair and drawing out the deep green of his eyes, a shade reminiscent of polished emeralds.

His easy smile radiates warmth, sending a rush of heat straight to my chest and making my heart skip a beat.

God, he’s handsome. And kind.

And…I might be carrying his baby.

I tighten my clasp on my files, the edges pressing into my skin as I approach him, willing my lips into a semblance of a smile.

“You ready?” he asks, his voice light and casual, yet his eyes search mine intently, as if seeking reassurance.

“Yeah. Let’s go,” I reply, striving to keep my voice steady and normal, even as my heart pounds wildly in my chest, a mixture of nerves and hope intertwining with every beat.

We climb into my Jeep, and I fumble with the seatbelt, my hands unsteady. Getting myself together, I manage to turn the engine over, and it roars to life.

As we drive, the soft drone of the radio drifts through the car, a gentle background to the silence between us. Braden leans back in the passenger seat.

He doesn’t rush to fill the silence, and I’m thankful for that small mercy. Braden has always had a knack for understanding the unspoken, for picking up on subtleties that others overlook.

I cast a sideways glance at him, noticing how the sunlight dances across the freckles scattered across his nose and cheeks.

Fuck, I wish this was all simple.

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