Page 48 of Hooked On Them

Snot-Sucking Device

Dominic

I’d never been the type of guy to pace. Never understood why people couldn’t just sit the fuck down when they were nervous. Yet here I was, wearing a damn groove in my hardwood floors like I was training for some Olympic pacing event.

My phone buzzed with a notification that wasn’t a text from Miles or Nora, and I nearly threw the thing across the room.

“Fuck,” I muttered, slumping onto my couch and refreshing my messages for what had to be the hundredth time in the last hour. Nothing.

How long did it take to have one meeting? They should’ve been done by now. I’d been sitting here spinning like a fucking top since Miles had texted that they were heading into Lovell’s office. That was forty-five minutes ago.

Forty-six, now.

I opened a browser on my phone, not really sure what I was looking for until my thumbs took over and typed “baby stuff” into the search bar. The screen filled with an overwhelming array of tiny clothes, safety gear, and shit I didn’t even recognize.

What the hell was a nasal aspirator? I clicked on it and immediately regretted my decision. Who the fuck designed a snot-sucking device that required parents to—nope. Hard pass.

Despite that horror show, I kept scrolling, adding a few things to my cart without overthinking it. A onesie with “Future Hockey Player” printed on it. A tiny jersey. A stuffed penguin because, well, it was cute as hell, even if I’d never admit that out loud.

My finger hovered over the order button.

Was this weird? Probably. But it felt like something I could control in this clusterfuck of a situation. I couldn’t control Nora’s career being in jeopardy. Couldn’t control the fact that Miles was now pretending to be dating the woman carrying my child.

But I could buy a stuffed penguin, damn it.

I hit the order button right as a knock came at my door. Finally. I tossed my phone aside and crossed the room in four long strides, yanking the door open.

“What took you so?—”

The words died in my throat because it wasn’t Miles and Nora standing there.

It was Carter fucking Campbell.

I stared at his perfectly tailored suit and that perpetually charming smile that made me want to introduce his face to a brick wall. And behind him was Miles looking like he’d rather be literally anywhere else on the planet.

“What the actual fuck?” I looked between them, then over their shoulders, scanning for Nora. “Where is she? What happened?”

A cold spike of dread shot through me. Why wasn’t she with them? Was she okay?

“She’s fine,” Miles said quickly, obviously reading the panic on my face. “She needed some space.”

“Space from what?” I didn’t move from the doorway, blocking their entry like my threshold was some sacred ground they couldn’t cross. “And why the hell are you here?” I directed that at Carter specifically.

Carter maintained that infuriating calm. “We should have this conversation inside. Unless you want your neighbors to hear everything?”

I reluctantly stepped aside, letting them into my apartment. The second the door closed, I rounded on Carter. “I’ll ask again. Why are you here?”

Carter surveyed my living room with interest, like he was some kind of home appraiser. “Nice place.”

“Cut the bullshit.”

He turned to face me, all traces of small talk gone. “I bought into the team. As of today, I’m one of the Titans’ owners.”

My vision blurred for a second as rage surged through my system.

“You didwhat?” I advanced on him, and Miles quickly stepped between us.

“Easy, Dom.”

---