Page 103 of Hooked On Them

“Because it’s not Miles’s baby,” I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper. “It’s Dominic’s.”

Lovell took a long moment to process my confession, his brows knitting together as he leaned back in his chair with the slow, deliberate movement of someone trying very hard not to explode. The silence in the office was suffocating, like being trapped in a penalty box with the clock frozen.

Dominic reached forward, resting his forearms on his knees, his back a tense line. “Coach, we?—”

“Hold up.” Lovell raised his hand again, his face doing that thing authority figures do when they’re mentally counting to ten. “So you’re telling me that Collins is not the father.” It wasn’t a question. “Does this mean you two aren’t together anymore, Hastings?”

I glanced at Dominic, our eyes meeting in a silent conversation filled with unspoken questions. How much do we say? Where do we even begin?

“That’s...” I shifted in my chair, my hand still protectively cupped over my belly. “Things are complicated.”

Lovell narrowed his eyes, looking between us like a detective who’d spotted blood on a suspect’s hands. “Is there another shoe waiting to drop here? Because I’d rather it drop now than land on my head later.”

I chewed my bottom lip, internally debating how much to divulge. The part of me that had been expertly juggling secrets for months wanted to leave Carter out of it entirely. But Lovell was reading my hesitation like it was written in neon lights on my forehead.

“Hastings.” His voice sharpened. “If I’m going to go to bat for you two with ownership, I need to know exactly what I’m defending. There’s only so much grace I can buy you.”

The baby kicked again, as if providing me with a tiny vote of encouragement.

“Carter Campbell is also involved,” I admitted before I could second-guess myself. “Me, Dominic, Miles, and Carter, we’re all...” I gestured vaguely with my hands, as if that somehow explained the intricate dynamics of our relationship.

Lovell’s eyebrows shot so high they nearly disappeared into his hairline. “All four of you are...?”

“Together,” Dominic finished for me, his voice steadier than I expected. “Since Christmas, more or less officially.”

“We’ve been figuring it out privately,” I added quickly. “The plan was to keep everything quiet until the end of the season when it wouldn’t be such a distraction.”

“A distraction,” Lovell repeated flatly, running a hand over his face like he’d aged ten years in five minutes. He looked like he’d prefer to be facing down a five-on-three penalty kill in overtime of Game Seven than continuing this conversation. “So let me make sure I have this straight. You, our skating coach, are in a relationship with our star center, who is the actual father of your child,andour team captain,andthe team’s minority owner.”

When he put it that way, it sounded ludicrous. Which, to be fair, it was.

“Yes.” I nodded, my cheeks burning. “That about covers it.”

Lovell studied us for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Then he asked the last question I expected. “Is it serious?”

“Yes,” Dominic and I answered simultaneously, our voices overlapping.

“Very serious.” My hand found Dominic’s without conscious thought. I really hoped Coach didn’t ask about the timing and logistics of our relationship progression and my pregnancy.

Lovell heaved a sigh that seemed to come from the depths of his soul. “Well, that at least explains why Wilson’s been so damn coachable lately. I knew something was up when he stopped fighting every correction.”

Dominic’s mouth twitched at the corners. “I’ve had some extra motivation to get my shit together.”

“Apparently,” Lovell muttered, then fell silent again, likely strategizing. He was, after all, one of the best tactical minds in hockey. “I can’t promise I can protect all of you from the fallout. The team has morality clauses, and while polyamory isn’t specifically prohibited, fraternization between team personnel is.”

My heart sank. “I understand if you need me to resign?—”

“I didn’t say that,” he interrupted, holding up a hand. “Let me talk to management before someone else does. You two need to get ahead of this, though. The team saw that kiss, and locker room gossip moves fast. Now get out of my office before I develop a migraine. And Wilson, take those skates off before you destroy my floors.”

We stood, mumbling awkward thanks as we backed toward the door. Before we could escape, Lovell added, “And Hastings? Congratulations on the kick. That’s a special moment.”

The unexpected softness in his gruff voice made my eyes sting with fresh tears. “Thank you, Coach.”

Outside his office, with the door safely closed behind us, my legs were suddenly too wobbly to support me. I leaned against the wall, my heart pounding so hard I was sure it would leave bruises on the inside of my ribs.

“Fuck,” I whispered eloquently, trying to process that the gig was up.

Dominic leaned one arm against the wall beside my head, his body close enough that I felt the heat radiating from him. “You okay?”

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