Page 42 of Hooked On Them

Chapter15

That Better Be Glitter on Your Cheek

Nora

Silence.

For a full five seconds, no one breathed, and no one moved. I blinked at Miles, sure I’d misheard him, but he wasn’t laughing. He wasn’t even smiling. He looked serious. Nervous, sure, butserious.

My pulse raced with an energy that made me want to jump up and pace the room or pinch myself to make sure this wasn’t some bizarre dream brought on by too much late-night ice cream.

“You want to pretend to be the father?” I stared at Miles, searching his features for any hint that this was an elaborate prank. Was I having a concussion episode? That would explain the surreal nature of this conversation.

His cheeks flushed a deep pink that crept up to his ears, and he shifted in his seat, the leather squeaking beneath him. “I mean... yeah. It’s just an idea.”

An idea. A wildly complicated, career-risking idea that made about as much sense as teaching pigs to fly. An idea that was essentially the same thing as saying Dominic was the father, except with an extra layer of deception that could blow up in all our faces.

My head tilted to the side like I was a dog trying to figure out what was going on. I opened my mouth. Closed it again. Finally, I managed to speak, though the words came out more bewildered than certain. “I don’t think that’s necessary. No one’s going to fire me for being pregnant... I hope. I don’t have to name the father. It’s no one’s business.”

Miles leaned forward, elbows on his knees, his green eyes more serious than I’d ever seen them. “But Dominic wants to be involved, right?”

I looked at Dominic, who sat there like a statue carved from tension and uncertainty. He gave a sharp, silent nod, lips pressed into a line so thin they nearly disappeared. Why wasn’t he immediately shooting this idea down? The Dominic I knew would’ve been ranting about how ridiculous this was by now.

“You’re going to need to explain this to me because how exactly does trading one hockey player for another help my job situation?” I fought the urge to laugh hysterically at the absurdity.

“He’s going to want to go to appointments. Be at the hospital. People will notice. Especially with all the attention already on him, but if I’m the boyfriend, it makes sense for him to be around. No one asks questions if your best friend is there when you’re having a baby with your girlfriend.”

“But that doesn’t change the fact that you’re a hockey player and I’m your coach. That’s the bigger issue here.” My throat was suddenly dry, and I took a sip of my water to calm my nerves.

Miles didn’t hesitate. “It doesn’t erase it. But it changes the story. Right now, if anyone finds out you’re pregnant and you don’t name the father, people speculate. If the truth leaks about it being Dominic’s, it’s a scandal. Coach and player, team dynamics, media frenzy. That’s the headline.”

“And if it’s you?” I crossed my arms over my chest as I struggled to process his logic. The whole situation was like trying to solve a Rubik’s cube in the dark. “Suddenly it’s all fine? Like magic, everything’s solved?” My voice carried a hint of the incredulous laughter I was fighting to contain, because really, this had to be the most elaborate solution to a problem I’d heard since in college Paige suggested we fix our broken air conditioner with duct tape and positive thinking.

“No, but we’re connected through the skating world, and no one would bat an eye if we said we crossed paths before you were hired. If people believe we were already quietly dating or even casually seeing each other before you were hired, then it’s not a team scandal; it’s just personal news. A relationship that predates your job. A baby that’s happening inside a committed relationship.”

I swallowed hard, trying to process that. It wasn’t wrong. It was completely overwhelming. “But I’m still your coach.”

“Yeah,” Miles admitted. “But it’s less explosive if management and the public see it as long-term and stable. Not a power trip. Not a fling. Not a broken rule.”

I hated how much sense it made. I hated that I was even considering it. But most of all, I hated how much safer the lie felt than the truth. I looked at Dominic to find him looking calmer than I’d seen him all day. “Dom?”

He let out a heavy sigh as if he was releasing all the things that had been bothering him all day. “He’s right. It’s easier to believe than if we tried to give that story about us. And once the baby is born… well, we can cross that bridge when we come to it.”

This wasn’t what I wanted. But maybe it was the only option that didn’t burn everything to the ground. “I need some time to think this through. I think we all do.”

This was temporary. A cover story. A way to buy time. That’s what I told myself, over and over, as Miles and Dominic left my office.

* * *

I lay sprawled on my couch, staring at the ceiling as if it might suddenly crack open and reveal the universe’s grand plan. My apartment was quiet except for the soft whirring of my refrigerator, which somehow felt like judgment.

The pregnancy test. The paternity revelation. And now Miles’s absolutely unhinged plan to pretend he was my baby daddy.

“This is fine,” I muttered to my ceiling. “Totally normal Tuesday night. Just contemplating a fake relationship with my player to cover up the fact I’m carrying another player’s baby. Real grown-up stuff.”

I pressed the heels of my palms against my eyes until I saw stars. The thing was, short-term, his plan would solve a lot of immediate problems. It bought time. Created cover. Prevented immediate scandal.

But long-term? Long-term, it was career arson waiting for a match.

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