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I have to say, they are wizards. When I left for my appointment, what used to be the spare bedroom was stripped bare. The walls were the same flat, pale gray color they were when I first moved in—I didn't see any reason to repaint, since the room didn't get used much.
Now, its walls are a cheerful, pale green color, and the windows are framed by gauzy, white curtains. But that's not all of it. In the center of the floor, there is a half-constructed crib.
“I cannot believe you got all this done while I was gone!” I can hardly believe my eyes, walking around carrying a box of doughnuts and smiling like a complete goober.
“Here, let me take these off your hands.” Ash winks at Soren before opening the box. “I don't know what I'm hungrier for, food, or you.”
“You need to stop saying things like that.” As it is, I practically have to rub my legs together like a grasshopper in hopes of calming the rush of heat that flares to life at the vaguest sexual reference. That's pretty much been the way it's gone over the entire course of my pregnancy, meaning the course of the season. Basically, it's been the perfect storm of insanely wild hormones that have me wet at the slightest breeze that brushes across the back of my neck, and a promise that's looking more and more impossible to keep.
But we kept it, and my blood was already racing at the thought of what tonight is going to look like. Win or lose, it's the end of the season, and that means it's time to make up for months of all of us taking care of ourselves instead of indulging the way we wanted to.
“Yo! I could use a little help down here!”
“I've been painting all morning.” Soren makes a big deal of groaning and pressing a hand to his lower back as the three of us walk downstairs.
Ryder gives him a dirty look as he finishes lifting grocery bags onto the counter. “Yeah? You sore, grandpa? Maybe you'll need me to step in for you tonight, during the game.”
“Not a chance.” Not that Ryder meant it, of course, but even if Soren was in full traction, he would find a way to get those skates laced up. The team fought like hell to get to this point, somehow finding it in themselves to rally together after losing Ryder to the Wolves. He worked too hard to get to this place.
“Exactly how many people live in this house?” I ask, munching a donut while the three of them put the groceries away. Thereare definite perks to living with three men, even when we're not allowed to touch each other.
“Three men with big appetites and...” Ryder clears his throat before sliding a knowing look at the other two. “And a gorgeous, breathtaking goddess who gets the weirdest cravings.” As if he wants to prove his point, he pulls a jar of olives from one of the bags, then retrieves a bottle of hot fudge sauce.
“I would never eat them together,” I grumble. “Sometimes, I get a craving.”
“I know all about cravings.” Soren wanders up behind me and runs a hand over my belly before nuzzling my neck. “God, I can't wait.”
And I can't understand how any of them could be so attracted to me in this state, but it doesn’t seem to matter. I catch Ash eyeing me with undeniable hunger in his eyes, and if Ryder doesn't stop staring at my boobs, he's going to end up walking into a wall or tripping and breaking something important.
“Try not to wear yourselves out too much tonight,” I tease. “I'll need you to have a little energy for me.”
With the energy in the room crackling the way it is, I'm pretty sure I have nothing to worry about.
35
ASH
There's no way I won't have energy for Harlow tonight. Not when I've spent every day craving her. Moving into her house at least puts me in her presence, but that only makes things worse sometimes. So close, but so far away.
Considering we're now in overtime after being tied at one the entire course of the second and third period, I have to wonder how much stamina I'll have left. Nothing could stop me from ravishing her at the first opportunity… but that might be all I can manage.
“Let's go, let's go!” I hear Coach Kozak shouting as I fly past, racing one of the Rattlesnakes for the puck that's loose up ahead. I reach it before he does and he checks me against the boards and claims the puck for himself, but Soren swoops in and takes it.
The air in here is charged with electricity. It's like the fans are pushing us on, their screams and cheers carrying us across the ice. Or maybe that's just my brain making me think these things. It's been a hell of a season, a hell of a year, and it all comesdown to this. It's like I see the game happening as a player and a spectator. I need to get out of my head, and I'm doing my best, but there's still part of my consciousness that can't stop going over all the obstacles I had to face to make it this far.
All of it goes through my mind in an instant as I watch the puck being passed around by a trio of Rattlesnakes. Danny cuts through their triangle and catches the puck, which he passes to me.
Everything around me fades away. The fans screaming in the stands—Ryder and Harlow are there, close to our bench. The other players. The lights, everything. It all goes fuzzy and fades into the background. There is nothing but the goal ahead.
Time seems to stand still. All I hear is the heavy thumping of my heart and the slicing of blades against ice. I control the puck while the goalkeeper prepares himself. Left, right, I feint in both directions to throw him off. This is it. It all comes down to this.
And when I draw back my stick and shoot at the goal, everything I have is behind it. All of me. All my hopes. All the fears when I was injured. The doubts I wrestled with in Seattle. Everything and more is behind that shot.
I'm not even aware at first of whether I made it. Not until Soren slams into me, and Max, and I can now hear the screams of joy all around us. “You did it! You fucking did it!” I can barely hear Soren over the chaos that's erupting.
“We did!” I look around and finally spot Harlow with Ryder. They're both jumping up and down, banging on the glass, screaming. She's here. She saw it. And I know deep down inside she understands everything that was going through my head inthose final seconds. And how much it means to not only win, but to win this way. The hard-fought wins are always the sweetest.
I never thoughtI would want a celebration to end as much as I want to get it over with tonight. Sure, we all deserve to let loose and get a little crazy, but there's another celebration I'm much more interested in. A reason the three of us didn't drink more than a beer apiece while everyone else practically soaked the locker room in suds. They're all out at the bar, and I'm sure they'll close the place down.
