Those Three Little Words
: Chapter 18

“Penny?” I whisper.

“Hmm,” she mumbles against my arm.

“You fell asleep.”

“Mmm,” is her response but she doesn’t move.

I can’t say when, possibly twenty minutes into the show, but she slowly lowered her head to my shoulder, and her body became limp. I looked over and saw that her eyes were closed, and I didn’t have it in me to wake her up. But now that the show’s over, she’s not going to want to stay here the entire night. That’s just asking for pain in the morning, and I know her body must be sore from all of the changes it’s going through.

Not wanting to disturb her, I carefully maneuver both of our bodies until I have her in my grasp, carrying her like a baby as I stand from the couch. Lifting her feels like nothing, and I carefully walk her to the bedroom while turning off the lights. She already brushed her teeth when she put on her pajamas.

With all the finesse I can muster, I lay her gently on the bed and then unfold the blankets so I can cover her. She doesn’t move from her position on the bed. Completely and utterly passed out, she is the depiction of someone who needs rest.

Her blonde hair fans out against the cream silk of her pillowcase, and her rosy-red lips part ever so slightly as she breathes.

Devoid of makeup and completely natural, she’s easily the most gorgeous woman I’ve ever met. A true beauty with soft features that I haven’t been able to get out of my head since my birthday. Because now that I’m getting to know her, I feel myself opening up, wanting to tell her more, wanting her to tell me more. I want to know about her childhood, not just as Pacey’s sister, but as the girl she was back then. I want to hear her laugh when I say stupid shit, and I want to see her cheeks blush when I say something laced with innuendo.

I want to be privileged to her charm, to her teasing, to the way she ever so slightly flips her hair over her shoulder only to pin me with that striking blue gaze.

I desperately want to climb into this bed, and instead of lying on my side where I’d lie stiff as a board, trying not to touch her, I want to pull her soft curves into my chest and bury my head in her hair. I want to feel her against me, wake up with my arm around her.

What’s so fucking crazy to me is I’m not that guy. I don’t think about this kind of shit. I don’t cuddle. I don’t revel in the feel of a woman resting on my shoulder. I don’t have it in me to explore these deep-seated feelings that develop into more.

I still remember asking Marge for a hug on one of the bad days not long after my mom passed away. I’d nearly cried at school because I missed my mom so much. I’d seen Marge hug her girls, and I desperately craved a hug. Mom had been the best hugger. But Marge had turned to me, looking . . . horrified. I can still hear her quiet yet firm words. “I’m not your mom, Eli. I can’t . . . well, I shouldn’t give you hugs. You’re a boy and don’t need them.” She then sent me away to the barn. I’d felt . . . banished. Disciplined. Simply for asking for affection.

I think that was the moment I first believed feelings equated to weakness. That it was weak to look for affection. As a defense mechanism, I guess I shut those thoughts down, avoided looking for affection, and I’ve done a good job of it so far.

Until Penny cried for me today.

I turn away from her and head back to the living room. Is that what this is?

I need to go for a walk to clear my mind. That will help. I can’t search for something I decided I didn’t need many years ago. Fuck. Things just got intense today with sharing, that’s all.

Nothing else.

I’m not falling for her.

I’m not wishing for her affection.

Nope.

“YOU’RE LATE,” Taters says as he joins me on the bikes, where I’m warming up my legs.

“Had a therapy appointment today that I couldn’t miss,” I answer.

“Couldn’t miss? You say that as if you needed it.”

“I did,” I say as I push a little harder on the bike.

Taters’s voice grows with concern. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah.” I slow down the bike and glance over my shoulder to ensure we’re the only ones in here. All the guys are already in the locker room getting ready for our last home game of the season. With a wild card berth already assured for us, we’ll take it easy tonight. “Just had to talk through some things. The other day, I told Penny about my mom and growing up. It opened some wounds that made me feel confused, and I wanted to work through that shit.”

“Confused in what way?”

Instead of pedaling, we’re both just sitting on the bikes now, talking. I push my hand through my hair and say, “Well, after we spoke, I started to have these feelings toward Penny, the type of stuff I don’t think about. I had this overwhelming urge to hold her, cuddle into her, protect her in a way I’ve never thought of before.”

“Because you like her,” Taters says, causing me to blow out a heavy sigh.

“You see, that’s the thing. I think I was just feeling that way because she’s a female figure in my life, and I want to protect her.”

“Is that what your therapist said?” Taters asks.

“It’s what we concluded.”

“Uh-huh, and did you tell him that you can’t stop thinking about her sexually?”

“Dude, I don’t think about her like that.”

“Bullshit, you said you couldn’t get her out of your head, and that’s why you haven’t hooked up with anyone else.”

“Well, yeah. I mean”—I lean in and whisper—“she was the best sex I’ve ever had. It’s going to take a second to recover from that.”

“Did you tell your therapist that?”

“No, he doesn’t need to know that.”

“Uh, yeah, he does. You’re giving him half the story, man. He’s going to think that you’re having some mom complex when the reality is, Penny Lawes is rocking your goddamn world, and you have no clue how to deal with it.”

“I don’t like her like that.”

“Bull . . . shit,” he says. “You can deny that all you want, but the fact is, you slept with her because you thought she was hot. Now you’re getting to know her on a deeper level, you’re starting to realize how amazing she is, and you don’t know how to handle that.”

“That’s so not fucking true,” I say. “And even if it were true, Lawes looked me in the goddamn eyes and told me not to go there with her. That I wasn’t the guy she needed. Do you really think I’m going to go against what Lawes has said after everything that happened? Fuck no.”

“Funny thing is, Lawes might be her brother, but he doesn’t get to dictate your life. If you like her, go for it.”

I shake my head. “I don’t think I can provide her with what she needs. I’m not in the right mindset to even think about a relationship. I’m not sure how to even have one. I’m sure as hell not going to try to figure it out while navigating this pregnancy. It’s a bad fucking idea.”

“Okay,” Taters says while he starts to pedal again. “But I’m going to tell you right now, the minute another man snatches her up, you’re going to regret everything you just said to me.”

I want to believe he’s wrong, but a small part of me thinks that he might be right.

“GOOD GAME TONIGHT.” Penny’s voice cuts through the dark of the night.

I pause mid-stride to the bathroom. “Jesus, I didn’t know you were awake.”

She rolls to the side and flips on her nightstand light, illuminating her beautiful yet sleepy face. “I was in and out a bit.” With her palm, she rubs her eye. “Coach was smart not giving you too much playing time.”

“Yeah, he’s saving us for the first round. I’m glad we’re in the playoffs, but the wild card blows—”

“Because you have to play the top seed,” she finishes for me. “Yeah, that sucks. But I think you guys have it in you to beat Washington.”

“Thanks. Well, I’m going to get ready for bed and then hang out in the living room to cool off a bit.”

“Want me to join you?”

“No, get your rest. You’re fine.”

I move through the bedroom and bathroom as quietly as I can, and when I’m done getting ready, I retreat to the main living space, where I grab myself a glass of water.

My body is sore.

Everywhere.

Even though I didn’t play too much today, the season is catching up to me, and I can practically feel every last muscle in my body telling me that it’s ready to be done with the abuse it’s been put through.

Happens every year.

My ribs get to the point where sometimes, it hurts to breathe from all the battered blows they’ve taken. My legs feel like noodles, and the only reason I’m able to skate on them is because of the impeccable training staff we have who revitalize me every day. And my brain is mentally exhausted. The hockey season is a long-ass season, not to mention the playoffs on top of that.

My mind is already thinking about the quiet peacefulness of being in Banff, surrounded by trees, and not having to worry about what I eat, conserving energy, and who the hell we’re playing next.

I’ve never been this mentally checked out of the playoffs before, but I think it’s from the emotional journey I’ve been on these last few months. It’s been difficult, to say the least, and I’m ready for it all to be over.

For a moment of peace, where I can take a deep breath and focus on the things that matter—preparing for this baby and how I’m going to handle being a father and a hockey player come next season.

From the kitchen, I go to sit on the couch but stop from the figure standing just outside the hallway.

“Jesus,” I breathe out. “You scared me, Penny.”

“Sorry, I was thirsty.”

I walk up to her and hand her my water. “Here, take mine.”

“Thank you.” She takes a sip before lowering the glass. “What are you going to do out here?”

I shrug. “I don’t know. Think. I just don’t want to lie in bed when I know I’m going to toss and turn until I can calm down.”

“Want company?” The way she asks, standing there in her matching pink flannel pajamas, she looks so goddamn cute, it would be hard to turn her away.

“Not if you’re tired. I don’t want to keep you up.”

“You won’t,” she says as she takes my hand in hers and moves me toward the small couch.

I forgot just how small she is up until this moment, when my palm connects with hers, my hand eclipsing hers. She fits . . . perfectly.

We both take a seat on the small loveseat that she calls a couch, and whereas I sit down with my back to the back cushions, she leans against the armrest and stretches her legs over my lap. It shows how comfortable she is with me now.

“Is that okay?” she asks.

“Yeah, you’re good,” I say. “Do you want a blanket?”

“Sure,” she answers before taking another sip of water.

I grab the draped blanket from over the arm of the chair, unfold it, and place it over our laps.

“Good?” I ask.

“Yeah.” She smiles and hands me the water.

Still thirsty, I take a drink, then hold it between my two hands.

“I know this is normal, you know,” she says. “Being wired after a game. Needing to release some of the pressure and adrenaline. I have been around hockey for years.”

“Well, I’ve never truly found a way to calm down that works for me other than . . .” fucking. But I am not saying that.

“Other than what?” But, of course, she won’t let that go.

I let out a heavy sigh and say, “Other than sex.”

“Oh.” She chuckles. “Well, as I said, you’re welcome to go take care of that need.”

“And as I said, that won’t be happening.”

“So that’s why you’re wired right now, trying to replace a new solution to the energy?”

“Exactly,” I answer. “Calmly sitting is what I’m going with tonight.”

“Sounds riveting.”

“Maybe a conversation might help. If you want to join in, we could get into some heavy stuff that will make us both not want to sleep,” I joke.

“I think I’m good with not talking about the heavy stuff at the moment, especially since I’m half awake.” She rests her head on the back of the couch. “Tell me what you’d be doing right now if you weren’t stuck sharing a blanket with a pregnant woman.”

I shake my head. “You don’t want to know what I’d be doing.”

“I really do.” She smirks. “Give me the dirty details. I want to hear all about it.”

I scratch the side of my jaw and figure, why the hell not? We’ve been honest about everything else between us, so why not this?

“Well, I’d be dressed in a suit still, not comfortable five-year-old sweatpants. And I’d probably be at one of my favorite bars, the one where I saw you on my birthday being one of them. I’d either have Posey or one of the other guys with me, and I’d be looking for someone to take home.”

“I just don’t see Levi as someone who trolls the bars looking for someone to sleep with.”

“He’s the most deceiving one out of all of us. He has this innocent, goofy, outward appearance, but he also has a real dirty side to him. He’s gotten blow jobs in the locker room before.”

“What?” Her eyes widen in surprise. “You’re talking about sweet, bologna-eating Levi Posey?”

“Yup,” I answer. “He has everyone on the outside fooled, but the guy is a real player. And I mean that in the nicest way possible because he’s super respectful, but the guy gets a lot of action. You just don’t hear about it at all.”

“No, you only hear about your action.” She smirks.

“Which has been absolutely abolished thanks to you.” I squeeze her leg so she knows I’m teasing.

“Took you off the market without technically taking you off the market.” She conducts a mock bow. “You are more than welcome.”

“Yes, thank you for that.” I take another sip of the water. “But I actually don’t mind the quiet nights in. I think I spend so much time moving around from state to state, game to game, that I forget to just take a second to breathe. I’ve always wondered why the guys on the team who are either married or have significant others retreat so early, but I can see the appeal. Coming home, slipping on some comfortable pants, and just sitting back. It’s nice.”

“Oh my God, Eli Hornsby, are you becoming domesticated?”

“I very well might be. All thanks to that little nugget in there.” I motion to her stomach. “Have you thought about the baby much? I’ve focused on more than just the pregnancy this week. I’ve actually thought about how you will be having a baby. My therapist and I have been talking about it. He said I need to face the reality that I’ll be in charge of a human.”

“I have thought about it.” She plays with the edge of the blanket as she speaks. I finish the rest of the water and then set the empty glass on the coffee table in front of me. With nothing to hold, I just rest my arms on the top of her legs. “I have considered how I love this apartment, but I think it might be too small for a baby and me. I’ve started looking around for something a little bigger. I inquired to see if anything was opening up in this building. I love this area, and it’s close to work but not too expensive where I can’t afford it. And I feel safe here.”

“Which is important.” I look around, and as I’ve thought before—and mentioned—my apartment could work. It has two bedrooms. The last time I brought it up, Penny quickly shut that idea down. But . . . “It is small here, and I’m sure you’d want a second bedroom.” Like my place.

“Yeah. The baby needs his or her own bedroom, and not that I’ve done a lot of research, but I do know babies come with a lot of things. Lots of gadgets and large items, and even though this apartment feels like home, I know it won’t be able to house all of the baby things.”

“How many large things?”

“A lot.”

“But the baby is so small.”

“That’s the crazy part.” She chuckles.

“I don’t know if you’ve given this much thought, so tell me to shut up if you don’t know yet, but are you going to hire a nanny for when you’re at work or drop the baby off at childcare? Assuming you’re going to keep working.”

“I have to keep working, Eli. I need money to pay for everything.”

“Technically . . .” I drag my hand over the soft fabric of the blanket. “All you have to do is file for child support, and given my salary, you’d make a living off that.”

When I glance over at her, I can see the stunned look on her expression. “Do you really think I’d do that?”

“No, but hell . . . how do I say this without coming off like an ass?” I scratch my chin. “If you wanted to stay at home with the baby, just know, I can cover things. And I don’t mean that in a chauvinistic way. I just want you to know you have options with whatever way you choose to go.”

“Well, I appreciate that, but I truly love my job and don’t foresee giving that up. The Agitators actually offer childcare at the arena. So I’d probably just use that. That way, I could still go see the baby while at work. A lot of parents do that. They spend their lunch break with their kids.”

“Really?” I ask. “I had no idea they offered that. Do the players use it?”

She nods. “Yup. Zalapski sends his kids there a lot since he’s a single dad. They also offer a shuttle service for kids who need rides from school. They’re pretty good like that.”

“Wow, I had no idea. So that means I could go visit the baby too, right?”

“Yeah. There are even smaller rooms meant for players to sneak away with their kids. Plenty of games and puzzles and toys as well that are, of course, all sanitized. It’s a great resource.”

“I see that you’ve thought about that.”

“Only a little.”

“Have you thought about the sex of the baby?” I ask as I shift slightly closer to her so her legs are more comfortably draped over me.

“I have. And I mean this when I say, I’ll be happy either way, but if I had to pick, I’d want a boy.”

“Interesting,” I say slowly.

“Why? Oh my God, do you want a girl?”

“Yeah, I kind of do. I just know the boy will be a little dickhead like me, and I’m not looking forward to that, whereas the girl, I really hope she’s like you.”

That makes her smile. “Like me?”

“Yeah. Smart, sweet, kind heart, a touch sassy, and, of course, beautiful.”

She pauses, and her eyes grow soft when she says, “That’s really sweet, Eli. But you realize a boy could have the same personality as me and a girl could have the same personality as you. Think about that for a second.”

My eyes widen in horror. “Fuck . . . I’m not sure either of us could handle that.”

“Definitely not,” she answers and then yawns.

“Do you want to go to bed?”

She shakes her head. “No, I like talking to you.”

“I like talking to you, too, Penny.” And I mean that. This might be a complete change from what I’m used to doing after games, but I really like it.

“Tell me about any names you might like,” she says.

“Now, that’s something I haven’t thought about at all. But . . . you know, if it’s a boy, we could call him Puck. That would be cool, right?”

“Wow, you just guaranteed yourself no right to naming our baby. Good job.”

I let out a loud laugh. “You don’t like Puck?”

“No one likes the name Puck. Honestly, Eli. What happened to just a solid name?”

“Like Peggy Leggy?”

That makes her throw her head back and laugh so hard that actual tears spring from her eyes. “Oh God, I totally forgot about that. What were the other names . . . Jimmy John, or Johnny Jim?”

“Both solid options. But I think I’m leaning toward Johnny Jim.”

She nods. “Oddly, I was thinking the same thing.”

“Then it’s settled. We are either having a Johnny Jim or a Peggy Leggy.”

She holds her hand out to shake on it, and I take her hand, giving it a light squeeze, but for some reason, I don’t let go. Instead, I keep my hand clasped with hers and rest it on her legs. “It’s a deal, but the last name, that has to be mine.”

She smirks. “Everyone is just going to love Johnny Jim Hornsby. What a name.”

“Couldn’t agree more.”