Page 118 of Pinch

“We got three with Mav’s number and two with Gav’s,” Gigi explains, dragging out the oversized purple, white, and black shirts. “For the record, they’re called sweaters in hockey, but you can just call them jerseys.”

All our uncles, along with Sage and Knox, are at my parents’ place, and our plan is to meet up at the arena. Gav and Mav are already there getting ready for the game.

Gavin’s parents are in town as well. He told them about the baby, and they’re so excited. We’re all planning to meet at the arena, and we’re also having lunch together tomorrow.

I’m excited and nervous, and I especially want to meet his mom Kenny and talk about all things Japan and Buddhism and tattoos.

I’ve been thinking a lot about a red ring around my pinky finger, but it feels premature. Gavin and I have said those three little words, but we haven’t talked about marriage or anything official yet.

When we arrive, Dad and all his brothers are standing in a row wearing their Gav and Mav jerseys while talking and watching the rink. They’re an impressive, handsome lineup with their arms crossed or in Uncle Garrett’s case, trying to put Dad in a headlock.

Knox walks down as soon as he sees us to give Gina and me a hug. “Look at you!” He puts a hand on my stomach, giving it a rub. “Do I get three wishes?”

“Don’t be a pest, Knoxey.” Kim pushes his head.

“I was just kidding,” he laughs, putting his arm around my neck. “Haddy loves me, don’t you Hads?”

“When did you get so tall?” I put an arm around his waist, hugging him back.

“Can you believe it?” Aunt Allie grabs his other arm. “He’s taller than his dad!”

“Bradford family trait,” he calls over his shoulder, continuing down the steps to the wide hallway beneath the stands.

“Where are you going?” I call after him.

He only waves. “Important business. I’ll be back.”

“Not sure why I didn’t get that Bradford family trait,” Aunt Dylan grumbles.

It’s true, looking up at my four uncles, who all range in height from six-two to Gigi’s dad, Uncle Garrett at six-four. When they see me looking, they all yell and wave for me to come up and see them.

Wrinkling my nose, I do a little wave before climbing the rows to where they all want to hug me and ask how I’m feeling, ask about the baby.

“You look good,” Uncle Zane bends down to give me a hug. “You’re about what? Halfway there?”

“I’m starting the third trimester, so…”

“Wow, more than half.”

I nod, and Uncle Jack steps over to give me a hug. “Gavin seems like a good guy. We talked some at Christmas. I got the impression he was there to see you.”

“You mean we didn’t fool you?” I squint one eye up at him.

“I’m an old hand at sneaking around,” he teases. “I know all the signs.”

“He played with Maverick in Atlanta,” Mav’s dad, Uncle Logan says. “He’s a good kid.”

“He’s more than a kid.” My dad walks over to pull me into a hug. “How are you feeling, Super P? Don’t stand in one position too long. It’ll make your back hurt.”

“I’m doing good.” I hug him back. “Thanks, Dad.”

“We are the Champions” by Queen starts up, and the guys all glide out onto the ice as the fans go crazy. Crowds line up around the glass walls to watch them warm up and hopefully catch a puck.

The song quickly morphs into “Another One Bites the Dust,” and I spot Gavin at once. He turns, skating backwards and waving at all of us. I don’t know why skating backwards is hot, but maybe it’s my hormones. Everything he does is hot to me.

“Haddy, look—is that Gavin’s dad?” Mom points to a group of four people a few rows down from where we’re sitting. “Should we introduce ourselves?”

Our eyes meet, and I duck, smiling nervously. “I guess we’d better!”