Page 105 of Playboy

“Oh fuck.” Daniel hangs his head.

I choke on a laugh, but it’s cut off when War skates in front of me and sings, “We really want to know.”

Brooks is next, scowling, his words more of a mumble than a tune. “The sex of the baby.”

Across the ice, Sara screams, “Yeah, Brookie. Sing it!”

All three guys spin on their skates facing us, their arms outstretched, and then start singing the rest of the song.

“Oh, baby, baby,

We’re your uncles and we need to know-oh

And now is the time, yeah.

Tell me, are you a boy baby,

Or a girl, ’cause we need to know now,

Yeah, we do.

Your dad’s cool, but your mom’s the best, and we,

We must confess, we still don’t know (don’t know)

When Playboy shoots, we’ll all find out,

So take the stick.

Hit it, Playboy, just one time.”

Daniel tosseshis head back and laughs, still holding me tight.

War eases forward and holds out a hockey stick.

With a kiss to my lips, Daniels murmurs, “Ready for this?”

I push him away, eager to see what happens next.

As he takes the stick, Noah appears at my side and drapes an arm over my shoulders to keep me warm.

I smile up at him, and he presses a kiss to my forehead.

The guys skate, maneuvering pucks back and forth between them. Then, in unison, they pull back and slap their sticks down.

An instant later, a cloud of bright Bolts blue erupts.

With a whoop, Daniel spins, skates toward me, the biggest smile on his face, and scoops me up. “We’re having a boy, baby! A fucking boy.”

The joy pulsing through my veins is so powerful I feel like I’ll erupt. “I knew it,” I murmur, hugging him tight.

He sets me on my feet, and without a word, pulls his jersey over his head and yanks it over mine, instantly encasing me in his warmth and scent.

Around us, our friends and family hoot and holler, but all I can see is Daniel. I pull the neck of his jersey up to my nose and inhale, closing my eyes, and sink into the comfort only he could provide. When I open them again, Lennox is holding out a small pastel pink and blue bag.

He takes it and holds it between us. “Baby’s first present.”

My throat grows tight. “Our son’s first present.”

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