Page 106 of Hooked On Them

“SCOOOOOORE!” The announcer’s voice was nearly drowned out by the roaring crowd and the cheering in our living room.

The camera caught Dominic and Miles crashing into each other along the boards, their teammates piling on in a celebration that caused my eyes to sting with tears of joy and pride.

But the game wasn’t over yet. The opposing team pulled their goalie for a last-minute six-on-five push, scrambling for possession in our zone, but the Titans held strong. Then, the final buzzer sounded, confirming what we already knew: the Tri-State Titans were Eastern Conference Champions, heading to the Stanley Cup Finals.

Cheers erupted again in the living room. Paige jumped to her feet, Libby shouted something triumphant, and Carter was half-laughing, half-yelling as he kissed the side of my head.

I sat in the center of it all, my chest so full it almost hurt.

Elated for the team. Proud of the men I loved. Anxious for what came next.

Because this wasn’t just the end of a series. It was the beginning of something even bigger. The Titans were going to the Finals. My father’s team was already waiting. His last season.

And soon, I would become a mother.

I stared at the TV, at Miles and Dominic grinning in their gear as the team tackled each other in a pile of excitement. I wanted to freeze this moment, tuck it into my back pocket, and carry it with me.

Beside me, Carter slid his hand over my belly right as GB delivered a firm kick, like she was celebrating, too. “Someone’s ready to meet her Stanley Cup champion dads.”

I rested my hand on top of his, and I let myself believe, for this moment, that we could have it all.

Chapter34

Home

Carter

The living room was finally quiet, which was weird considering how loud it had been a couple of hours ago, and how loud it usually was with three guys living in one house.

My fingers trailed over the back of the oversized sectional as I wandered the room. The footrest I’d picked out when Nora hit thirty weeks and couldn’t get comfortable anymore. The abstract painting I’d created during a night when we’d all tried art therapy. The framed photos from our trip to the beach house.

This place wasn’t just expensive furniture and designer touches anymore. It was... ours.

Fuck. I’d lived in mansions, penthouses, and luxury condos on three continents. But this was the first place that felt like home.

My mind drifted back to earlier and Nora’s fingernails digging into my palm during the final minutes of the game. Her body leaning against mine when the Titans scored that game-winning goal. The way she didn’t hesitate to fold herself into me when we celebrated.

I hadn’t needed to be “on” tonight. No jokes to fill the silence. No outrageous stories to keep everyone entertained. No calculated generosity to make myself indispensable.

The realization hit me with unexpected force. I still liked being liked, and probably always would, but the deeper ache had always been about being needed. Not for my money or connections or even my sparkling personality, but for... me.

And lately? The guys had let me in, too. Not just as the one with the biggest bank account or the jokes, but as someone they leaned on. Someone who mattered. And Nora...

Nora trusted me. With her home, with her fears about the baby, with the quiet moments when no one else was around.

GB had kicked for me yesterday morning when I’d pressed my palm against Nora’s stomach and whispered ridiculously inaccurate hockey stats that no self-respecting baby should be subjected to.

I wasn’t the backup dancer to someone else’s spotlight anymore. I was a partner.

My feet carried me up the stairs and down the hallway toward the nursery. I stood in the doorway, staring into the dimly lit room. I brushed my fingers over a watercolor painting of three hockey sticks with a tiny pink skate in the middle. The corners of my mouth twitched upward.

I adjusted a stuffed elephant that had fallen sideways in the crib, my fingers lingering on its soft ears. This little girl would grow up surrounded by so much unconditional and unwavering love, something I hadn’t always been sure existed.

“Hey, you.” Nora’s voice floated down the hallway, sleepy and sweet.

I turned to find her padding toward me, phone in hand, wearing one of my oversized T-shirts. The sight of her round belly and perfect hair piled messily on top of her head made my chest tighten in ways I’d never experienced before meeting her.

“Miles and Dom want to video call.” She held up her phone. “They’re bouncing off the walls with post-game adrenaline.”

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