Page 117 of Hooked On Them

“Nora, I’m really getting worried. You’re in pain.”

“It’s like a really bad period cramp. I’m fine.” I took a tentative step, feeling like my center of gravity had shifted dramatically in the past hour and a half since they started. Although, in hindsight, I’d had several earlier in the day before they became stronger and more consistent.

Players were taking turns with the Cup as we made our way carefully across the carpet path toward where my dad was. The arena was a cacophony of cheers, music, and emotional outbursts, which was surprisingly helpful in distracting me.

“Dad!” I called as we approached.

Brett’s face lit up. “There’s my girl!” He reached over the boards to hug me, his familiar cologne a comfort. “What a game, huh?” There was disappointment in his voice. He’d had a Stanley Cup win as a coach, but going out with one would have been the icing on top.

“Yeah,” I managed, breathing through what felt like the start of another contraction. “Dom really?—”

The rest of my sentence evaporated as something shifted inside me. A strange popping sensation followed by immediate warmth rushing down my legs.

Oh no. No, no, no.

Did I just pee myself, or did my water just break?

I shifted my weight, and it happened again. It wasn’t pee. I knew that much. This was different.

Josie looked at my crotch, where my black leggings were now very obviously wet. “Holy shit!”

Alarm crossed my dad’s face. “Nora?”

I met his eyes, my mind running through a list of things I needed to do. “It’s happening,” I whispered.

Carter’s grip on my arm tightened as he looked down. “Her water broke. We need to get her to the hospital!” And cue Carter freaking out.

My dad was already climbing over the boards. “How long have you been in labor?”

“Since the third period, but my contractions weren’t close enough to go in.” They still weren’t, but my water breaking meant it was time to go.

“The third period?” Brett’s eyes bulged. “Are you kidding me? Why didn’t you say something?”

“Because we were down by one with twelve minutes left!” I defended. “What was I supposed to do? ‘Hey guys, pause the championship, I need to push out a human’? You men act like the baby is just going to shoot down the chute.”

“This is how some women give birth in gas station bathrooms, Nora.” Carter was looking around frantically. “Is the baby going to fall out? Right here? On the ice? Does that mean we’ll have to name her Elsa?”

My dad shot him a look, and I laughed. Carter was usually calm, but when it came to me giving birth, he’d already freaked out once two weeks ago, insisting we do a practice hospital run.

“We should head out now, though; traffic will be a nightmare.” Josie walked through the bench door and gave me a hug. “I’m so excited!”

My nerves were creeping in now. This was really happening. Not the Stanley Cup finals we’d just witnessed, not the chaos of being surrounded by thousands of screaming hockey fans, but the actual arrival of my child.

“We need to get the guys.” Carter looked toward where Miles and Dominic were taking photos with the team.

“Not yet.” I grabbed his arm. “Let them have this moment. The baby’s not coming right this second, and they need to change and do press.”

Brett shook his head. “Stubborn as ever. Some things never change.”

“Fine, but where’s the medical staff?” Carter was in full crisis mode now. “Should we carry her? Is that safe? What if she delivers on the way to the hospital?”

“Carter.” I grabbed his face between my hands. “Women have been doing this for thousands of years. I am not going to birth this baby on the ice.” At least, I hoped not.

His panicked eyes met mine. “I’m not equipped for this, Nora.”

“None of us are.” I laughed, then winced as another contraction started. “But here we are.”

My dad put an arm around my shoulders. “Let’s get you out of here.”

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