Page 33 of Playboy

“Han.” Daniel’s voice on the other side of the door has my heart rate picking up. Do I go out there so we can wait together? Do I sit here and stare at the test? I don’t know him that well. None of this feels natural.

Then again, if he were someone I knew well, like Noah, who arguably knows me better than anyone else, I don’t know that I’d feel any more comfortable.

Bizarrely, Noah isn’t who I want in this moment. For some inexplicable reason, Daniel is. So I open the door.

Arms up, he’s gripping the doorframe above me, leaning forward, eyes roaming over me, like he’s trying to decipher my body language. As if that’ll give him the answer he’s waiting for.

“I didn’t look yet.”

He nods, dropping his hands to his sides. “Do you want me to look?”

I blow out a breath. “It said three minutes, so we’ve got at least another two.”

Stepping back, he gives me room to move past him. I make a beeline for my bed and drop onto it, causing the Walgreens bag to crinkle. Heart lurching, I turn away from it. The stick I just peed on is one of many I’ll have to test.

Though if it’s negative, I don’t care what Daniel says. I’ll chalk this up to a mistake and kick him out so I can take the others by myself.

But if it’s positive…

“Isn’t it wild how long two minutes can feel when you’re waiting for something important? When I’m on the bench during a game, it feels like everyone is moving in slow motion while I wait to get back onto the ice. Then once I’m out there, it flies by.”

I offer him a weak smile. “Your life revolves around hockey, huh?”

He shrugs. “Is that bad?”

Head shaking, I pick at a piece of lint on my pants. “No. Work is my life. And honestly, I love hockey.”

With a step closer, he smiles, his eyes lighting up. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. I’m glad I don’t have to work with you guys, though. All the bullshit the Revs guys pull is starting to make me hate baseball. It’s work, ya know? But hockey—I can just enjoy watching the sport.”

“I can see that.” The bed dips as he settles beside me, pushing the white plastic bag away. “Who’s the biggest pain in the ass on the baseball team?”

I snort. “Is that even a question?”

Lips pressed into a line, he shrugs. “I really don’t follow the Revs, and I definitely don’t read gossip rags.”

My eyes roll out of habit. “Of course you don’t.”

With a nudge of his elbow, he frowns. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Just that you probably don’t follow because you know what they say about you.”

“You keeping tabs on me, dream girl? What do the tabloids say?”

My lips itch with the need to smile as I assess the man who keeps pulling them out of me despite the shitty situation we’re in. “Another night, another girl. That kind of thing.”

Daniel licks his lips as he studies me. “Does that bother you?”

There it goes, another laugh, though I don’t think he was trying this time. “God, no. I haven’t been pining for you since we last slept together, Baby Hall. I’m not that kind of girl.”

Head bowed, he shrugs. “No, I guess that’d be me.” Before I can process the words, he switches topics. “So who’s the biggest pain in the ass?”

“Jasper Quinn,” I say easily. He’s the reason I’m here right now. If he hadn’t been accused of knocking a girl up, I wouldn’t have realized my period was late, and we wouldn’t be sitting here right now.

“Okay. And who’s your favorite Bolts player?” His lips lift like he knows he has this in the bag.

I bite my bottom lip and peer over at the bathroom door. “I don’t pick favorites.”

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