Page 101 of Hooked On Them

Chapter32

Kick Heard Round the Rink

Nora

I’d reached the point in pregnancy where I could no longer hide the evidence. My once-flat stomach had transformed into what I affectionately called my “hockey puck storage facility,” though it was starting to look more like I’d smuggled in an actual regulation-sized puck. Gone were the days of loose sweaters providing adequate camouflage. I was unmistakably pregnant.

Twenty-two weeks pregnant, to be exact. With a baby girl.

A daughter.

I still hadn’t fully processed it. I was going to have a tiny human who might someday roll her eyes at me when I told her to clean her room. The thought was both terrifying and exhilarating.

The guys on the team had been surprisingly sweet about it all, offering to carry things and constantly asking if I needed to sit down. Though they all thought Miles was the father, which complicated matters in ways that would make a soap opera writer quit their job in frustration.

“Hensley, what the hell was that pass? My grandmother could thread a needle better with cataracts!” I shouted from my perch at the bench, clipboard in hand. I may have been relegated to coaching from behind the safety of the boards, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t make myself heard.

Hensley gave me a sheepish wave and adjusted his position for the next drill.

I scribbled some notes on my clipboard while trying to ignore the slight twinge in my lower back. Pregnancy had introduced me to a whole catalog of discomforts that changed daily, like some sadistic advent calendar.

Dominic skated past, executing a perfect transition that made me want to both cheer and roll my eyes. He’d finally stopped fighting me on the technical adjustments I’d suggested, and his performance had improved dramatically. The team was on a six-game winning streak, and for once, everyone seemed focused on hockey.

Miles was absent today, stuck in physical therapy after taking a hit that had twisted his knee in an ugly way during their last game. Not season-ending, thankfully, but enough to keep him off the ice for a week or two.

I watched as Dominic intercepted a pass from Jenkins and accelerated down the ice. His form was textbook perfect, with a strong push from his outside edge, an engaged core, and power generating from his lower body rather than his arms. It was beautiful to watch, especially knowing how much he’d struggled with those very elements.

“Attaboy, Wilson!” I called out, unable to keep the pride from my voice.

He glanced over at me, a cocky grin lighting up his face.

I inhaled sharply, my clipboard clattering to the ground as my hands flew to my belly.

There it was again; not the vague butterfly flutters I’d been feeling for weeks, but an actual, unmistakablethumpagainst my hand. A kick. A real baby kick.

“Oh. Hi there,” I whispered, tears springing to my eyes without warning. I pressed my palm firmly against the spot where I’d felt the movement, and there it was again, stronger this time, as if my tiny girl was announcing her presence to the world.

The scrimmage continued for approximately three more seconds before someone noticed me standing frozen, hands on my belly, looking like I’d either seen a ghost or was about to throw up on the expensive ice.

“Coach Hastings?” Atwater called, skating to a stop. “You good?”

I couldn’t form words. All I could do was look up with wet eyes and a trembling smile that probably made me look like I was about to fall apart.

The whistle blew as Lovell noticed the commotion, but I barely registered it. My entire world had narrowed to the miraculous thumping beneath my hands.

Then Dominic was there, skating full speed toward the bench, his face a mask of panic. He practically hurled himself over the boards, skate guards be damned.

“What’s wrong? Is it the baby? Are you okay? Do we need to call someone?” The words tumbled out of him in a frantic rush as he reached me, his gloved hands hovering uncertainly over my shoulders.

I shook my head, laughing through my tears. “She kicked, Dom, she kicked.”

His eyes widened, panic morphing instantly into wonder. “She did? Can I?”

Without waiting for me to answer, since I didn’t need to, he ripped off his gloves and placed his large, warm hand over mine on my belly.

We stood there for what felt like an eternity, his hand covering mine, both waiting. Then?—

Thump.

---