He shrugged, but I caught the tightening of the skin around his lips and eyes.“She said she was going to talk to you.”
“When?”I demanded.
“Few days ago,” Maxim gritted out.The words were menacing, and a fire burned deep in his icy gaze.“I’ll make sure she does.”
I reached the exit and stepped up onto the rubber mat, grabbing my blade guards from the kid holding them out to me.“Nah, man, I don’t want her pressured,” I told Maxim.Pressure her!my mind raged.Make her call me back and tell me what I can do to make something real between us.
I swallowed the bitterness that came with those thoughts.I was Luka Stol, and I was a professional hockey player.I shouldn’t be begging for a woman’s attention.The ladies came tome—foundme.And I hadn’t been interested enough to even look at them since Millie.
I shoved my hands through my hair and clomped off toward the locker room.
I showered and found a seat on the bus that would take us back to the hotel so we could get home for a couple of days before we’d get on another plane, another bus, and do all this again, in another city.That was the season—constant grind.I shot Millie a text.Maxim said you wanted to talk to me.So call.I’m around.
Nothing.
Right.It was night in Sri Lanka.Probably late at night.I wasn’t sure of the time difference because we were on the East Coast, and the time-change math became fuzzy.I never remembered if I need to add or subtract hours to her time.
Well, I couldn’t be too mad if she was sleeping.Except I was.I wanted her to think about me as much as I thought about her.
More.
I wanted her to cry into her pillow every night with how much she missed my awesomeness.I fantasized about the exact opposite of what she’d dished out.
I sighed, the sound so heavy it was more of a groan.I was so glad we’d finished this road trip.I wanted to hop in my Corvette, my pride and joy, and drive fast and free.I’d head home and play some video games.We had the day off tomorrow, and I didn’t need to be at Cormac’s until five to watch the footage for our next matchup.I glanced over at the phone again.Nothing.
Millie.That was Millie’s picture requesting a video chat.I stared at my phone screen for a long moment the next morning.I’d just awakened and come out to the kitchen to grab a glass of orange juice in the T-shirt and athletic shorts I’d slept in.I hadn’t combed my hair or anything remotely related to making myself presentable.But that didn’t matter as I settled on the edge of my large, leather sectional.
Hell to the yes, I accepted.
I smiled, anticipation zinging through me.“Hi, beaut—have you been crying?”
She had.Her eyes were bloodshot and red-rimmed.The tip of her adorable nose was also red.She looked pale and tired.
“What’s wrong?”I demanded.If some fuck-face had bothered her, I’d… Shit.I was twenty-two hours away.What would I do?
“I’m pregnant.”
“What?”I asked.My mouth fell open.My eyes widened so much, I was pretty sure they’d be dry for days.
“Luka, I’m pregnant,” she said again.Her voice was soft.Resigned.
This was the first time I’d spoken to her in months, and all she said to me was, “I don’t expect anything from you, but I needed to tell you I’m pregnant.”
Before I could respond, she hung up.
I stared at my phone, my arms and legs noodly, my chest tight.Rage, elation, worry, and possessiveness crashed into each other, trying to cave in my chest.
“What the fuck just happened?”I gasped.My eyes refused to blink.They were dry, burning.I forced the lids together.Sweet relief—for my fucking eyes.But my heart…
Millie was pregnant.
I called her back.She ignored me.
I called her back again.
She declined the call.
“Oh, no you don’t.”
