Page 12 of The Unexpected Lineup (Lost in Translation #2)

FUCK, WESTERHOLM, YOU CAN BE SO DENSE

RASMUS

A baby.

We’re having a baby. And I’m going to be a dad. A father to Haisley’s baby. My baby. She’s carrying my baby. My future child. Her stomach will grow round with it, and everyone will see.

Fuck. Why does that make me feel so primal? Like I need to stake some invisible claim? I want to wrap her up in my arms and keep her safe from the world. Fucking hell, am I aroused? What is wrong with me?

Becoming a dad was never my plan. Not really. I thought I’d play a few more seasons of hockey, retire, then figure out what to do with the money I’ve earned all these years.

But parenthood? Never in a million years did I think becoming a parent was in the cards for me. My life has always been structured around seasons and games. How the hell do I make room for a baby in all that madness? I can’t even keep a cactus alive !

And yet, now that I know about this little miracle we created that one wild drunken night late last year, my world is turned upside down. I’m thrilled. Completely unprepared, though. Fucking terrified, too, but thrilled. I don’t know how to explain it, but something inside me has shifted.

I’m actually going to be a dad. And I don’t want to be a half-assed one. No fucking way.

I have to convince Haisley to move in with me or something.

I don’t want our future kid splitting time between two households.

That sounds really complicated to everyone involved.

But from what I’ve gathered, getting her to agree with my plan will not be easy.

She seems independent and doesn’t need me coming in and telling her what to do.

Well, challenge accepted. Bring it on. Even if I don’t know how my quiet lifestyle outside hockey will survive sharing my space with someone. And later with a baby. But I can figure it all out later.

“Should we exchange phone numbers or something?” I say awkwardly. Because like an idiot I got her pregnant and don’t even have something so simple as her digits.

Her eyes narrow. “Are you sure that you don’t have my number already?”

“Why would I?”

Haisley huffs and turns to leave, but I catch her wrist. Her skin is soft beneath my fingers, and I have to ignore the jolt that shoots through me at the contact.

Just like I’m trying to ignore the fact that she’s wearing the same lipstick from that night, and that her curve-hugging silvery dress fits her perfectly, as if it was made for her.

“What did I say?” I ask, annoyance evident in my voice .

“I need to go.”

“Please don’t leave until you tell me what’s going on.”

“Fine,” she says, shaking my hand off and crosses her arms. “I left my number. But you never called.”

My mind scrambles to catch up. “I never got your number!”

“I left it on the nightstand at the hotel.”

“Oh shit.” She cocks an eyebrow, still irritated, so I continue. “I overslept that morning, and my teammates had to wake me up. I left the room in a damn hurry.”

“So, you didn’t see my note?”

“No!” I’m pacing the room again. “Fuck, Haisley, I would’ve called. I wouldn’t have ghosted you. God, I wanted to find you so damn much. That night was one of the best I’ve ever had. Then you were gone. I regretted not asking for your name because I wanted to find you after.”

“Now I know that you’re not a total jerk.”

“And we both wanted more than a one-time-only thing.”

“It can’t be more, though. We need to stay friends,” she says, rubbing her still flat stomach.

The gesture is small, but it makes something possessive curl inside me.

That’s our baby in there. “You’re one of my dad’s players.

We can’t put team dynamics and your career at risk if something between us two goes wrong.

I want you to stay here in New York for the sake of the baby. ”

It would be so easy to argue and tell her that I want more. But I don’t want to scare her away. Not now. Not when we’re starting to figure this out.

“Agreed. ”

Her expression softens. “Good. I better get back to the celebration before my family starts a search party.”

“Text me about the next doctor’s appointment.”

“I will. Have fun tonight. But not too much, okay? Your baby mama wants no drama.”

I chuckle. “I’ll behave. I promise.”

“Later, Mister.”

“Later, Poppy.”

I watch her walk away. And it hits me how much I don’t want her to go.

How the hell did I go from being a new guy on the team who was only focused on hockey to this? To having a baby with the daughter of my freaking GM?

I still can’t fucking believe it.

And why does the thought of her being pregnant with my baby make my chest feel ready to burst? There’s a growing desire inside me to protect her and the little life we created. I want to protect what’s mine. But I don’t know what I’m doing.

She only wants friendship, and part of me wants to respect that. The other part, the irrational part, is screaming for more. More moments like the hug we shared tonight. I yearn to hold her close every night, making sure she’s safe in my arms while that baby of ours grows up healthy and strong.

Fuck, I barely even know her. But I know she’s already becoming the most important part of my life. I can’t mess this up. I can’t mess her up. I just can’t.

But that’s the part that terrifies me the most. I’ve always been great at hockey, the game I can play with my eyes closed and hands behind my back.

But being a dad? A partner? A guy who deserves someone like her?

I have no damn clue how to be any of that.

Damn, I’m truly fucked.

The ballroom hums with the murmur of conversation, interrupted by bursts of laughter and clinking glasses. As I lift my drink for another swig, a voice from my left surprises me, sharp and unmistakably familiar.

“So, you knocked up the GM’s daughter.” ?kerman’s low whisper in Swedish is laced with amusement. When I turn, there’s that damn million-dollar smile of his once again. He’s so smug in his designer suit. “I overheard you two earlier. What a shitshow.”

“Fuck off, ?kerman,” I mutter, setting the glass down with more force than necessary. “I’m painfully aware of how screwed I am. I don’t need you to rub it in my face.”

He leans casually against the wall, his posture relaxed. “Look at you, acting all high and mighty, telling me to get lost.”

“You don’t know anything, Viking .” I use the pretentious nickname he’s had since college. How fucking original. Not.

“I’m just saying,” he continues with a shrug, “you’ll need a friend once Jeremy finds out that his new player is the father of his first grandchild. ”

“I already have enough friends. I don’t need another one,” I shoot back, barely glancing at him as I scan the room for an escape route with no luck. “Especially not you.”

?kerman snorts and takes a sip of his whiskey. “Famous last words.”

I roll my eyes, the weight of the conversation already pressing down on me. “Can we not do this right now?”

He raises an eyebrow. “Well, I was told by more than one person that they won’t let us leave this party unless we sort out our shit.”

“I just found out I’m going to be a dad. That’s enough excitement for one night. Do we really have to talk?” I ask again, rubbing a hand over my face. I’m so over this entire conversation.

“Yep.”

“Well, shit.” The words slip out before I can stop them, and ?kerman chuckles, his grin widening. That expression reminds me of times when things were simpler between us.

“That was my reaction, too, if that helps.”

I shake my head, turning to face him head-on. “So, where should we start?”

He straightens slightly, his expression softening, though the edge of sarcasm still lingers on his face. “How about you apologize for being a dickhead, and trusting the rumors instead of me before spreading lies about me?”

“It wasn’t like that.”

His eyes narrow. “Then tell me how it went down. Because from what I remember, you lost it over the idea I’d slept with your girlfriend, and next thing I knew, half the campus thought I’d cheated on my exams.”

“I—I can’t talk about it,” I stammer, my voice barely audible over the partygoers.

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t trust you anymore,” I admit, the words heavier than I expected. Saying my thoughts aloud and acknowledging my feelings doesn’t make it feel any less awful. “But you should know that I wasn’t the one who started it.”

His smile fades, his shoulders tensing. “Fuck, Westerholm, you can be so dense.”

“Like you’re one to talk.”

“So, would it help if I said I was sorry?”

“Are you?” I challenge, crossing my arms across my chest. “Is the all-star Jasper ?kerman sorry for his past actions?”

“A little,” he admits. “I didn’t mean to break your nose a year ago if that’s what you’re referring to.”

I snort bitterly. What an asshole. “I had to have two operations to fix it. Thank you very much, dickhead. But no, I meant everything that has happened.”

He winces, glancing away briefly before meeting my gaze again. “I’m sorry, okay?”

His voice carries honesty I wasn’t expecting, but I’m not ready to let him off the hook. “I still don’t trust you.”

The air between us hangs heavy, the weight of our unresolved issues pressing down on both of us. My teammate’s eyes search mine, his usual carefree attitude faltering a little. The party goes on around us, and other attendees are oblivious to our quiet battle.

He shifts on his feet, running a hand through his blonde hair, clearly uncomfortable.

“Look, I know I fucked up with how everything went down, both back then and again last year. I was an ass, and I hurt you. But you hurt me, too. I was almost kicked off the team in college and thought you were behind it.”

“You don’t have to remind me. I was there.”

“Do you think we can get past this?”

Everything inside me screams to say no. To throw his late as fuck apology back in his face and tell him to walk away. But something in his eyes makes me hesitate. It’s a flicker of something I wasn’t expecting—regret.

“I don’t know, man,” I mutter, my voice lower.

“First, you never denied those rumors about you and my ex sleeping together, which drove a wedge between us. Then, it got worse when you believed I was the one who started spreading the other lies. And as if that wasn’t enough, you also broke my damn nose years later. ”

“I get it. I do. And I’m sorry. I was an idiot, and you were such an easy target for all that anger. I was so fucking angry.” He takes a deep breath. “And I didn’t know how to fix my personal issues, so I put all that pent-up resentment into something else. Someone else.”

The vulnerability in his voice catches me off guard, and my defenses slip. Just a little. Not much, but enough to consider his apology.

“I know that doesn’t make my actions right,” he continues, his tone more serious now. “But if it helps, I’ve been sorry for a long time. ”

I stand there feeling lost for words, the memory of the night he broke my nose still fresh and guttural, even after a year. It’s a wound that didn’t have time to heal yet. All the emotions flood back. The hurt, the anger, the betrayal.

I consider turning my back on him. But then I remember his words: You’ll need a friend once Jeremy finds out.

Maybe after all the bullshit and the silence, this is the time to start fixing something. Even a tiny part of what’s happened between us.

“Fine,” I say, breaking the silence. “But I’m not forgiving you just because you said you’re sorry.

You’ve got a long way to go before we’re okay again.

If it helps, I’m sorry, too. I shouldn’t have believed the rumor about you two, or at least, I should’ve talked to you before it all spiraled out of control. ”

“I appreciate you saying that after all these years.”

I study him, searching his face for any sign of lies.

But only honesty is evident in his expression.

And suddenly, the same guy I met during my first hockey practice in college is in front of me.

The guy who was my best friend for three and half years until a pointless rumor and events following it ruined everything between us.

I hate that we let that happen, but at the time, my jealousy got the best of me.

“We’ll see where we go from here,” I say quietly, turning my attention to the ballroom entrance. “I see your woman is waiting for you.”

My former best friend turns and follows my gaze, his expression softening as his eyes land on Vivian. She’s graceful in her navy blue dress that hugs her curves. She looks every bit of the woman he’d always seemed destined to be with. I even heard she’s a human rights lawyer .

“Yeah,” he murmurs, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “I should go.”

He walks toward her, leaving me to wonder if we’ll ever be able to be friends again. But only time will tell how the rest of the season of us playing for the same team will go.

My one wish though? That my nose stays unbroken this time around. Because, shockingly, I’m not a huge fan of excruciating pain and face rearrangements.