Page 19

SIXTEEN

HANNAH

I’m never uncomfortable. I live by the motto that I belong in every room. Every person I encounter is lucky to be in my presence. Even if the wives and girlfriends are the ones with excuses to be here—it’s their guys who just finished their season, after all—I’ve never once questioned what I bring to the table. Even as a seventh wheel.

But tonight I’m questioning why the hell I thought it was a good idea to tag along. I can’t drink, and hiding that fact is more work than I like. I’m exhausted. Pregnancy is kicking my ass, and the baby is probably only the size of my thumb.

Actually, I have no idea how big the baby is. Once I searched for safety guidelines for pregnancy—and accidentally stumbled upon the daunting list of symptoms—I stopped researching.

Denial. That’s where I’m living.

And in my own personal hell. Because while I’m seventh-wheeling, Daniel is sitting at the bar with Camden Snow, accepting shots from a gorgeous blonde on the other side of the room. When he straightens and checks her out, I worry I might be sick.

Swallowing back bile, I tug on Ava’s arm. “I think I’m going to go.”

“What? Why? I never come out.” She pouts. “Please. Just one more drink?”

I laugh. “You can’t even drink.”

She eyes me. “Then I’ll just have the kind of drink you had at dinner.” The serious glint in her usually so kind eyes has me squirming.

And I never squirm.

I’m turning into a person I don’t recognize, and I don’t like it. I blame the pregnancy.

Fuck this. I’m not hiding anymore.

“Fine, let’s get a mocktail.” I loop my arm through hers and drag her to the bar, parking myself right next to the woman who just bought my baby daddy a shot. “Oh, tequila. Love that,” I say to her as the bartender pours another round of shots for her and her friends.

The girl side-eyes me, her lips turned down in confusion. “Yeah, it’s good.”

“Not as good as that guy over there is with his tongue.” I nod toward Daniel, who now has his back to us as he and Cam talk.

Ava digs her nails into my arm and forces me to look at her. “What are you doing?”

“Just telling my new friend here how great our hockey boys are.” I grin at the girl. “Rumor has it he’s even pierced.”

The woman bites down on her bottom lip, eyes flashing as she darts a look at Daniel.

Before I can continue, Ava drags me away from the bar. She doesn’t stop until we’re tucked into a corner alone. “What the heck is wrong with you?”

Shoulders pulled back, I lift my chin. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Without speaking, she zeroes in on me, using some kind of weird mom power to get me to talk. I may need lessons.

“She was pretty and clearly interested.” I wave a dismissive hand. “Just doing the guys a favor by putting in a good word.”

“Good with his tongue?” She crosses her arms. “You only know that because you hooked up with him.” Her eyes widen, and she sucks in a breath. “It’s almost like you’re jealous.”

I cough out a laugh. “I’m never jealous.”

Ava lifts one brow, her lips quirking along with it. “Exactly. But that’s obviously changed recently.”

I open my mouth to deny it, but the words get stuck in my throat. So I let out a long huff of a breath instead. “I don’t want to talk about it yet.”

Her expression softens. “We don’t have to talk about anything. Just—” She grasps my hand and squeezes. “Don’t push the guy you’re interested in off on someone else because you’re scared.”

My stomach sinks. That’s so not what this is about. But I don’t argue. It’s easier to let her believe that than to explain that it’s easier to push Daniel away now and plan a future where we’re just co-parents than to get attached and lose him later. We aren’t destined for a happily ever after. Perfect endings are reserved for fictional characters in fairy tales, though my friends are clearly living theirs, that’s not in the cards for me. We’re going to raise our child together, and in order to do that, we need to be friends. Nothing more.

And friends look out for one another.

Friends play wingman.

I can be an excellent wingman.

But Ava’s right. I’m not feeling it tonight.

Chest aching, I drop my arms to my sides. “Can I go now?”

Ava nods. “Yeah, I’m pretty sure Ty wants to hang out a while longer, but if you need a ride, we could run you home and then come back.”

I laugh. “I’m a big girl, Ave. I can get myself home.”

She pulls me in for a hug. “I know you can take care of yourself. It’s just that you don’t always have to. It’s okay to let your friends help out sometimes. We want to.”

Arm in arm, we walk back to the table. Though I prefer taking care of myself, I can’t deny it feels good to know there are people in this world who genuinely care about me.

As we approach our friends, she grabs War’s attention—as if she didn’t have it the entire time we were gone—and motions to me. “Can we take Hannah home? We can come back if you’re not ready to call it a night.”

With tattoos up and down his arms, the Bolts captain can be intimidating, but the moment he looks at his wife, he’s all mush. “Course, Vicious. I wouldn’t mind a few hours alone with my wife anyway.”

I open my mouth and stick a finger into it, making a gagging sound. “You guys are adorable, but seriously, go have sex or do whatever married people do. I can grab an Uber.”

“I got her.” My heart thumps in the most ridiculous way at the sound of the voice behind me.

I spin, and a heartbeat later, he grasps my hip, practically pissing on me in a ridiculous grown-up version of calling dibs.

“Aw, Baby Hall, I don’t want to take you from your playtime,” I say, my tone disgustingly sweet.

Despite my best efforts, I instantly lose myself in the deep brown eyes of my baby daddy. My heart rate picks up, and suddenly, it’s hard to breathe. And the place where he’s still touching me? It’s aflame.

Daniel gives me a look that says oh, we’re doing this?

I simply hold his gaze.

“The only person I want to play with is standing right here.”

Ava and Lennox snicker beside me. It takes a shit ton of effort not to glare at them.

“But I put in such a good word for you with the Barbie over there.” I nod to the bar where Camden is already deep—and I mean that figuratively, because the flirty looks they’re both wearing scream shallow —in conversation.

“Yeah, I’m all set with that.” He holds my stare, his jaw rigid.

Our friends are silent, and though I don’t dare look at them, I can feel every eye locked on us, like they’re all waiting for the fireworks to start.

“I’m not in the mood,” I grit out.

“It’s true,” Lennox says from nearby. “She’s been in a funk all night.”

Before I can turn to her, Daniel leans in and presses his lips to my neck, sending shivers streaking through me. “That’s because my girl is needy, and she’s been depriving herself.”

“Oh, that is totally a thing,” Lennox agrees. “I call it hagitated. Horny and agitated. You just need an orgasm or two to set you right.”

Straightening, Daniel raises his brows, his attention all on me.

I bite my lip as I try to keep from laughing. “Can I use that in a book? That’s gold.”

“What is happening here?” Sara says, her voice a little too loud.

Finally, I look away from Daniel, the spell his touch put on me evaporating.

“Nothing. I’m just leaving.”

“Yes. With me.” The bane of my existence leans across me, one arm still holding me in place and the other outstretched toward War. “I’ll get her home. Great first season, Cap. Proud to be on your team.”

With a look at me, War slips his hand into Daniel’s and smiles. “Take care of our girl.”

The fucker still clinging to me chuckles as he tugs me away. “My girl, but thanks for caring about her.”

As soon as we step outside, I shrug him off. “What the hell was that?”

“Hi, sweetheart,” he says, his tone a strange mix of forced sweetness and irritation. “It’s nice to see you too. Thanks for returning all my phone calls. I really appreciated that.”

I huff out a breath and come to a stop on the sidewalk. “This isn’t funny. Now everyone’s going to know.”

With a purely unaffected shrug, he says, “You didn’t seem to care about that when you were screaming my name in Arizona.”

My cheeks heat. Dammit. What is wrong with me? I never blush. “That was before.”

His jaw tightens, and for the first time tonight, the cocky playboy persona fades. Gone is the smooth man with all the lines. This man is something else entirely. Earnest, serious…hurt? No, that can’t be it. I can’t quite put my finger on it.

“Yeah, Hannah. Before.” He presses closer, engulfing me in his warm, smoky scent. “Before we walked through that pharmacy together and picked out pregnancy tests. Before we found out we’re going to be parents.” He huffs out a breath and shakes his head. “As in us. You and me. So yeah, I know all those people”—he nods at the door to the bar—“mean a lot to you, but I should mean something too. At least enough to deserve a return phone call.”

The words hang between us, and a truckload of shame rolls through me.

“I’m sorry.”

Hands in his pockets, he only watches me, waiting for me to elaborate.

I look back toward the bar. On the other side of the window, our friends have gone back to their conversations. Laughing and happy, completely unaffected, while my world has been turned upside down. He’s right. He’s likely the only person who would have noticed if I’d walked out of that bar without saying goodbye. I should have more respect for him than what I’ve shown. “I’m having a hard time wrapping my mind around all of this. I”—I shake my head—“I’m not good at this.”

Daniel frowns, ducking his head and meeting my eye. “Neither of us is good at this. We just found out, Hannah. Give yourself some grace.”

“No, I mean relationships.” I shrug. “Regardless of how casual. Considering another person’s feelings.” I look away from him again. “There’s never been a person in my life who’s expected me to check in regularly. No one has ever really cared what I’m doing on a day-to-day basis.”

No one. Not my mother. Certainly not my father. Sure, my stepdads check in from time to time and my brothers are great, but they’re all living busy lives. They check in when they can, but not on any regular schedule.

And outside of a very short, horribly cliché marriage and divorce in college, I have never been in a long-term relationship.

Daniel’s dark eyes are fathomless as he assesses me. Like he wishes he could read my mind. But what I’ve given him already is a hell of a lot more than I’ve shared with anyone else, and it’s all I can get through tonight.

He squeezes my hand and takes half a step closer. “Well, I care. I’m probably going to fuck up a lot.” His throat bobs as he swallows. “But if you could just talk to me, that’s all I need.”

“ Daniel .” My heart pangs painfully. He deserves so much more than that.

With a press of his finger to my lips, he shakes his head. “I can’t promise that any of the things I’ll say will be clever or right or will make you feel better—in fact, I’ll probably babble stream-of-conscious style most of the time and make you question why you’re with me…”

I inhale, ready to tell him that I’m not with him, but with a narrowing of his eye, he’s got me squeezing my lips shut, allowing him to finish.

“But I will talk to you. And that’s all I ask of you. Talk to me, Hannah. It’s the only way we’re going to get through this.”

How the hell did I get so lucky? And why has it taken me this long to realize how wonderful this man is? I point to my mouth, and when he removes his finger, I tilt my head. “Can I do that talking thing now?”

He smiles. “Yes, dream girl.”

“I have an OB appointment tomorrow. Would you like to come?”

His smile widens so much I can’t imagine it doesn’t hurt. “I would love to.”

“The baby is probably so small we won’t even see anything?—”

He wraps his arm around me and leads me down the street. “Baby Hall is the size of a grape.”

“What?”

With a laugh, he pulls me in closer. “I typed in the date we were in Arizona into this app I downloaded. According to it, the baby is about the size of a grape.”

I lift up my thumb and study it. Kind of the same size. Hmm, maybe I do have this mom intuition thing down.

Daniel grasps my hand and kisses it. “What are you thinking about?”

I lace my fingers with his, and while we walk home together, I tell him. Then I tell him about my week. And how I’m feeling. And I make a vow to myself that I’ll keep telling him things. Because he’s right: that’s the only way this is going to work.