Page 32 of Hooked On Them

Coach Lovell exhaled sharply and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Get off my ice. Both of you.”

I stood and grabbed my bag as Miles slung an arm around my shoulders like we were old teammates rather than coach and player. Too familiar. Too easy. And way too risky. “C’mon, partner. Our adoring fans await.”

I rolled my eyes but let him steer me toward the exit, ignoring the warmth that lingered from his touch.

Coach gave us one long, weary look before muttering, “I don’t get paid enough for this.”

Chapter12

Concerned Potential Daddy

Carter

Ichecked my phone again. It had been only five minutes since I’d last checked, but Nora should have been home by now. The bag of takeout from Leo’s restaurant was getting cold beside me, and my ass was going numb from sitting on the hardwood floor outside her apartment.

Maybe this was crossing a line. Again.

When she hadn’t answered my texts asking if she’d had dinner, I’d decided to swing by with pasta. The “just happened to be in the neighborhood” excuse I’d used three times since she told me she was pregnant was wearing thin considering I lived on the opposite side of the city.

To be fair, I was genuinely worried about her. She looked exhausted when I saw her a few days before, and I kept catching myself analyzing her complexion. Not in a creepy way but in a concerned potential daddy way. Which, okay, still kind of creepy.

The elevator dinged at the end of the hall, and I scrambled to my feet, trying to look casual and not like I’d been camping outside her door for the past forty minutes.

Nora stepped out, her shoulders slumped with exhaustion, bag slung over one shoulder. Her eyes widened when she spotted me, a mix of surprise and something I couldn’t quite identify flashing across her face.

She approached slowly, keys dangling from her fingertips. “Hey, what are you doing here?”

I held up the paper bag with an overly bright smile. “I brought dinner!”

Her eyes narrowed, but the corners of her mouth twitched upward. “You know, in some states, this would qualify as stalking behavior.”

I winced. “It’s only the third time this week.”

“Fourth, if you count the breakfast smoothie you had delivered on Tuesday.” She set down her bag and crossed her arms, but she didn’t look upset, which I took as a win.

I ran a hand through my hair. “Shit. I am being too much, aren’t I? You’ve been looking tired, and I wanted to make sure you were eating, and?—”

“Carter.” She cut me off, her expression softening as she stepped closer. “I was joking. It’s kind of sweet. In an overly persistent, boundary-challenged kind of way.”

I exhaled, relieved. “So... not creepy?”

“Oh, definitely creepy.” She grinned, taking the bag from my hands and unlocking her door. “But apparently, I have a higher creepy tolerance than I thought. Come on in, since you’ve already committed to the bit.”

My heart leapt in excitement. She hadn’t invited me in before, so this was progress, right? I grabbed the bag she’d set down and followed her inside.

I scanned her apartment, surprised by the spacious layout. The open floor plan made it feel airy and bright, with high ceilings and exposed brick that reminded me of my own place, though on a cozier scale. A small dining table nestled near floor-to-ceiling windows, and the kitchen flowed seamlessly into a living area where there was an oversized couch.

I shouldn’t have been surprised by the amount of hockey memorabilia, but it still made me pause. There were also a ton of framed photos and a stack of books about pregnancy sitting on the couch, partially hidden under a throw blanket.

“So, what’s for dinner?” She peeked into the bag as she kicked off her shoes.

“Fettuccine Alfredo with grilled chicken, salad, garlic bread, and cheesecake.” I shrugged off my jacket and hung it on the coat rack, feeling oddly domestic. “I was going to get tiramisu but was worried about the alcohol.”

She laughed, heading for the kitchen. “Sounds delicious. Want a drink? I’ve got water, juice, or...” She hesitated, opening her fridge. “Actually, that’s it. Being pregnant really limits the exciting beverage options.”

“Water’s perfect.” I leaned against her kitchen counter, watching as she moved around the space. “How was practice today?”

She grabbed plates from a cabinet, her movements slowing. “Exhausting. I had a team coordination meeting and then back-to-back sessions with players.”

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