Beyond the Game: A Surprise Pregnancy Sports Romance (Chicago Red Tails Book 3)

I tried.

I mean, I think I really tried.

Alright, I confess, I may not have tried as hard as I told myself I should, but dammit, I tried not to get involved with Tatum. I told myself to keep things simple, but that is way easier said than done with her. She was great at my place the other night. Down to earth, personable, and funny. She’s not the dramatic type, nor is she someone who wants me based on my hockey status.

She’s genuinely kind to me but isn’t afraid to hold her ground either and I like that about her. I like a lot of things about her.

The other night was a weak moment for me. I gave in to my desires. I allowed myself to taste her again and now she’s all I want. And herein lies my conflict.

How do I stay away from the woman who gave me unequivocally the best sex of my life? How do I keep my distance from the woman carrying my child when admittedly, I’m attracted to her?

I need her in my life to help me raise our child, but I don’t know how to do relationships. Not in the way she deserves. I’ve never given a woman as much of me as I’ve already given Tatum. I don’t ask women out on dates. I don’t woo them with gifts and flowers and all that girly stuff. It’s always been plain and simple with me. A night of sex and orgasms and nothing more.

But with Tatum, I find myself wondering what more might look like. Feel like.

I don’t believe two people should be forced together for the sake of their children. My parents were horrible examples of that notion and I won’t do that to our child, but at the same time, even the idea of Tatum raising my child with another man…the thought of another man touching her…kissing her. It makes my skin crawl.

“Fuck!”

“What the hell, Foster?” Coach Denovah shouts from the bench. “Defense is supposed to keep the puck away from the net. What is this, your first goddamn day?”

He’s right.

I’m not the least bit focused on this practice.

I’m basically phoning it in and I imagine all the guys know it. This is why I love them like brothers though. They’re not rubbing it in my face that I’m fucking up left and right. They’ve all had bad days. But I’m sure I’ll be the subject of an intervention when practice is over.

“You want to talk about it?” Hawken murmurs in the shower stall next to me. Of course, the son of a bitch corners me in the shower where I can’t run.

“What’s there to talk about? I sucked major ass out there today. I just have a lot on my mind.”

“Exactly dipshit. That’s why I’m asking if you want to talk about it?”

“And what should I say, Hawk? What do you want to know? That I kissed Tatum the other night and it was the second-best kiss of my goddamn life? That I ate her out like a starving man at a fucking all you can eat buffet and it’s still not enough?”

“Who’s eating who in the what now?” Quinton tosses his towel on the hook and steps into the next stall.

“Not important.”

“Except it is important,” Hawk says. “Shouldn’t we be celebrating this momentous occasion when Dex Foster confirms his dick drought is officially over?”

I shake my head. “My dick had nothing to do with that night. I just…” I bow my head letting the water wash over me. “I couldn’t stand it anymore. Being around her all day…I was drawn to her. I wanted to kiss her all evening and then she let me feel the baby kick and I was fucking blown away. Like, for this fleeting moment I could see my life in five to ten years. Snuggled on the couch with my wife and kids. Seeing Tatum in the crowd when I play. I could see it all and it scared me half to death. I tried to end the evening and take her home before I did anything stupid. I really did but she stopped me and she kept apologizing like she had done something wrong and she hadn’t done a damn thing wrong, she was just so fucking…perfect and I couldn’t stop myself so, I kissed her.”

Hawken frowns. “And that’s bad because…?”

My emotions burst out of me all at once. “Because I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing here! This smoking hot woman who doesn’t give two shits what I do for a living is carrying my child and I think I like her. Like, really fucking like her, but I haven’t had an honest to God relationship since…” I shake my head. “I don’t know. High school? And even then, it was only a month or two. I’m not the relationship guy. I’m not the guy she deserves. I’m the fucking peacock who ruffles his pretty feathers in front of the ladies to get them to take notice, except in place of feathers, I use my dick.”

“Sooo…you’re just…a cock?” Milo smirks, walking into the showers.

I can’t help but huff out a little laugh. “Fuck you, Landric.”

Hawk turns his water off and grabs his towel. “Look man, I think you’re overthinking this whole thing.”

“Agreed.” Quinton nods. “Who the hell cares if you’ve never had a relationship before. If you’re attracted to Tatum—for more reasons than just her smoking hot body, your words not mine—and you like her, then let whatever happens happen.”

“And if it doesn’t work out between the two of you, that doesn’t mean your baby is going to be any less loved. You know that. Co-parenting can work if the two of you both put forth the effort.”

“Do you want to be with her, Dex?” Milo asks.

I let out a huge sigh as I turn my water off and grab my towel. “I don’t want to not be with her. I mean right now, I want to be around her every minute of every goddamn day and it kills me when I can’t be where she is. I worry about her. I worry about the baby. I want to keep them safe. I want to have control over a situation I have zero control over. But what I know I don’t want is for another man to take my place. That will fucking kill me. Or I’ll kill him…one or the other.”

“Well, I think you’ve pretty much made up your mind then.” Milo grins. “Sounds like you know how you feel. You just have to allow yourself to sit in those feelings. Stop denying yourself the chance to be happy. I know hockey is life, but there’s more to life beyond the game and it’s okay to want it.”

___

We circle up before hitting the ice for tonight’s game, my adrenaline surging through my body. Tonight, is the first time Tatum will get to watch me live and something about that makes me want to play my absolute best.

I want to impress her.

I want to show her how good I am.

That I’m not just a horny single man she met on vacation.

“HUSTLE, HIT, AND NEVER QUIT!” we shout together and then wait for our names to be called. One by one we take the ice and when I hear my name, there’s a rush of excitement as the crowd cheers and I take my place along the line up. Immediately I look over to where I know the girls are supposed to be sitting but Charlee and Rory are the only ones there. Carissa is in the tunnel so I know she’ll join them later, but where is Tatum?

Bathroom probably.

That explains it.

Following both national anthems, we take our positions for the puck drop and the game is on. I take my first shift along with Nelson, fighting to keep the puck out of our territory and working together to get our team to the other end of the ice. I’m one hundred percent focused, but the very moment I come off the ice, I notice Tatum is once again absent from her seat. I can’t get to Rory or Charlee to ask where she is, but I start to worry something is wrong.

“You alright?” Colby asks when he notices my gaze darting around the arena.

“I can’t find Tatum. She was supposed to be here tonight.”

Colby looking over towards the ladies, his wife now with Charlee and Rory. His brow furrows. “Bathroom? She is pretty pregnant and all.”

“Yeah, maybe. And if that’s the case, I’ll feel terrible for making her have to walk so much to get to the rest room. I should’ve gotten them a suite.”

“Carissa said they wanted to be down front.”

“Yeah, I know, I just…” I shake my head. “I don’t like that I can’t see her.”

“Relax man. I’m sure everything is fine. If it wasn’t, they would’ve told you.”

That’s true.

If there were an emergency, Rory would’ve told Carissa who would’ve told Coach and he would call me off the ice. I take a deep breath and try to relax as best I can while staying in the zone so we can pull off another win.

After the first period, we’re back in the locker room and I’m throwing my gloves off and reaching for my phone. There’s no note from Tatum, but there is one from Rory.

Rory: FYI – Tate isn’t coming tonight. Called and said she was feeling uncomfortable and a little crampy. She didn’t want to text you and upset you. *Heart emoji*

My shoulders fall and my chest tightens.

She didn’t want to upset me?

“Shit.”

“She okay?” Hawken asks next to me knowing exactly what I’m worried about.

“Yeah.” I shake my head. “I mean she’s feeling crampy and shit so she didn’t want to come but I feel badly that she was afraid to tell me herself. Rory said she didn’t want to upset me. Maybe I put too much pressure on her.”

“Nah. You didn’t pressure her at all. It was Rory who asked her to come, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Then don’t sweat it. I’m sure everything is fine. She’s super pregnant. I’m sure that’s uncomfortable. Cut her some slack.”

“Yeah. You’re right.”

Hawken encourages me not to text her so my mind can stay sharp for the rest of the game. I know he’s right. He always has my best interest in mind and he’s never steered me wrong. Still, I’m itching to know she’s okay.

Second period against Toronto whipped our asses and we’re now starting the third period two goals behind. Not an impossibility for us, but fuck, Toronto is playing hard tonight. With two minutes to go, Shay gets possession of the puck and tries to pop it in the net but , it just misses. Malone rebounds with a wraparound but their goalie is fierce and blocks his shot. Toronto dodges two bullets on this shift, and then Nelson and Landric are back on the ice.

I sprint across the ice as Toronto moves the puck into Zeke’s territory. Nelson tries to get to it but Shostakopf maneuvers in front of him, takes control, and passes across the ice to Toronto’s center who takes a shot. Blocked by Landric’s stick. The puck goes into the corner and I chase after it, checking Shostakopf against the glass and swinging the puck to safety. Nelson makes a high arcing pass to Landric who takes his chance moving down the ice, Shay and Malone on his wings and he wraps around the net but passes to Shay just as Toronto’s goalie shifts for a wraparound goal and it’s too late! Shay locks in the puck, shoots, and scores!

Any other night, I would be fucking pissed over such a close loss, but tonight I keep my head down and my mouth shut. Toronto played hard and they deserved the win. And now we have shit to push through next week before we face off against the Carolina Storm. Coach doesn’t ask me to do press, thank God, so once I complete my post-game routine, and hit the shower, I say goodbye to the guys and head out to check on Tatum.

Me: Hey! I’m sorry you weren’t feeling well enough for the game tonight. I’m on my way, can I bring you anything?

Me: Tatum?

Me: You okay?

I don’t hear back from her at all during my drive to her apartment, so I step on the gas and pray I’m worrying over nothing. When I get there, I notice her car in her parking spot so I know she’s home and when I look up to the second floor, I see her light is on.

Okay. Phew.

Maybe she’ll let me give her a foot rub or a massage.

Anything to help her feel better.

But when I get to her door, my Spidey senses tell me something’s not right.

Knock, knock, knock.

“Tatum?”

She doesn’t answer so I knock a little louder. “Tate? Are you in there?”

“DEX!” she shouts, and not in a good way. Something is wrong. I jiggle the doorknob but the door is locked.

“Tate, the door is locked. Can you let me in?”

“I…I CAAAAAN’T! DEX! HELP ME!”

Oh fuck.

Is she hurt?

What the hell is going on?

Is she okay? The baby?

I pound on the door not giving two shits who I wake up. “TATE! The door is locked,” I tell her again, jiggling the fuck out of the doorknob.

Keys idiot!

You have her key!

I grab my keys from my pocket and with a shaky hand, jiggle one into the keyhole but it’s not going in.

What the fuck?

Why isn’t it working?

“DEX!”

“Shit! Okay, I’M COMING IN TATE!”

With all my weight and brute force, I body check the entire door, breaking the lock and nearly falling as the door swings open. Nothing I can’t pay to have fixed later.

“Tatum?” I look around her living room but she’s not there. Her television is on, and there’s a bowl of uneaten cereal on the coffee table.

Fruit Loops?

“Dex! I’m in the BAAAAATHROOM!”

I’m at the bathroom door in less than three seconds and oh, my God, I am not prepared for what I see next.

Tatum is standing at her bathroom sink, trying to breathe, her hand under her stomach. A puddle of…fuck, I don’t know what that is…is on the floor beneath her.

“Tatum? What—”

“My water broke, Dex!” she cries. “And this baby is coming right fucking now!”