Page 57 of Power Play Daddies

Coach throws a glance at the bench. “Donovan, you’re up.”

I’ve been itching for this. My legs are bouncing, and the second my skates hit the ice, I’m in the zone.

Ryder feeds me a perfect pass as I break into their zone. One of their defensemen tries to block me, but I fake right, cutting left.

It’s just me and their goalie now. I wind up, release, and watch the puck sail clean into the top corner.

“Fuck yeah!” I shout, throwing my arms up.

The guys swarm me. Tanner punches my helmet. “That’s what I’m talking about, rookie!”

By the time the final buzzer sounds, we’ve crushed them. The locker room’s buzzing with energy—guys laughing, slamming lockers, tossing gear.

Coach walks in, arms crossed, but there’s a rare grin on his face. “Hell of a game, boys. You’re getting noticed. Management’s talking endorsements. Keep this shit up, and we’re golden.”

Mason chimes in, “Does that mean free beer?”

“Yeah, if you earn it,” Coach says with a smirk before walking out.

As the guys start planning drinks at Finnegan’s, my head’s not in it.

I grab my phone and scroll through my contacts until I find her name—Daisy. It’s been weeks since I’ve seen her—too busy with the other interviews—but she’s still there in my head, like a song I can’t shake.

I shoot her a text:Hey, were you at the game?

The response comes quickly:Yeah, I was there. Congrats, you were great.

A grin pulls at my lips.Thanks. I know exactly how I wanna celebrate.I add a winking emoji, followed by:Cherry lube, round two?

I hit send just as the Coach calls for attention. Something about schedules and practice times. I half-listen, itching to leave. The second we’re dismissed, I’m out of there.

Her reply pings:Not tonight.

My heart sinks a little, but then I spot her in the hallway, leaning against the wall. She’s in this simple black dress, fitted just right, with these strappy heels that make her legs look a mile long.

My sweatpants suddenly feel a lot tighter.

“Hey, baby,” I call out, already moving toward her.

She looks up, and I notice her eyes. They’re rimmed with red, like she’s been crying.

Fuck.

My chest tightens. “What’s wrong?”

Her hands come up, like she’s trying to brush it off. “I’m fine.”

“The hell you are.” I grab her hand and pull her into an empty room nearby—a storage closet or something.

I flick the light on and shut the door behind us. “Talk to me, sweet girl. What’s going on?”

She lets out a shaky breath, and before I know it, tears are streaking down her cheeks. “I… fuck,” she whispers, her voice cracking.

“Hey.” I cup her cheek, my thumb brushing away a tear. “You can tell me. Whatever it is, you can tell meanything,baby.”

Her eyes drop, and for a moment, it’s like she’s gathering the courage to speak. Finally, in a voice so broken it nearly wrecks me, she says, “I’m pregnant.”

The second I hear it, I can’t mask my reaction. My jaw tightens, my eyes snap to hers, and I swear my stomach knots like I just took a puck to the gut.