AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I look back at the guys, watching them as they navigate the cooking and each other with an ease I’m almost jealous of. The way they are with each other is part of the draw they’ve held for me since I met them. It’s not a game, it’s not about Soren or Mickey. They’re a package deal on the ice, privately, and… well, I suspect that’ll reach into fatherhood.
Since the situation we find ourselves in is my doing, my fault, I’m the one who has to make it up to them; the one who has to regain their trust. It’s not that I’ve forgotten what they’ve done to me, I definitely don’t forgive them for it. But I can understand it.
When Soren calls my name and tells me dinner’s ready, I get up and stretch before joining them at the kitchen table. It’s round and not too big, which makes it more intimate as we sit here together. I keep looking at them, trying to be discreet as they help themselves to the food. As soon as they’re done, Mickey takes my plate and fills it up before handing it back to me.
“Thank you,” I say dutifully. Then I take a bite, and oh my God it’s delicious. Rich flavors explode on my tongue, making me moan with appreciation. “What is this deliciousness?”
Rolling his eyes, Mickey shoves some food into his mouth, which makes Soren laugh. “It’s lemon garlic shrimp pasta with spinach. It’s healthy and good for both you and the baby.”
“Fet,” I correct without meaning to.
“Fet?” he asks, scrunching up his nose.
“Fetus felt too impersonal, so I went with a shortened version.” I try to explain why that’s the name I’ve come up with, and that I’ve, against all odds, grown fond of it.
Much to my surprise, it’s Mickey who speaks next. “I like it,” he says, grimacing as though it hurts him to admit that.
We continue eating in silence, and while they each have a beer to wash it down with, I stick to water. Though I kinda wish I could have some tequila with Luce. Damn, I miss our tequila nights.
Once we’re done, I get up first, clearing the plates while Soren takes care of the leftovers. He’s very meticulous about finding the right container to put it in, and I can’t help noticing each one is labeled. It’s clearly very important to use the right one, as the one marked for chicken goes back inside the cupboard. How very… pragmatic.
When we’re almost done, and Soren tells me to go sit down, I jump up on the kitchen counter, refusing to leave the kitchen until I say what’s on my mind. “What do you guys want me to do?”
The question was meant to break the cycle of us going over the same things, but what I’m getting is two shocked expressions and one shattered cup as Mickey drops it. “About what?” Soren asks, quick to get a small broom and dustpan, sweeping the shattered glass up in no time.
“Do you want me to follow you around like a lost puppy? Lock me up again? What’s the game plan here?”
Mickey gets a new cup and sets about making himself a cup of tea. It smells nice, so nice I’m about to ask for a cup when he hands me his. “Do you take anything in it?” he asks, his gruff tone so at odds with the kind gesture I can barely contain the laughter bubbling in my chest.
“Milk,” I answer automatically. “But I can get it myself.”
I go to jump down from the counter, but Soren steadies me by gripping my hips, holding me in place. “Don’t come down until we’re sure there isn’t more glass on the floor.”
Frowning, I discreetly move my hand under my sweater and pinch the skin on my stomach. The way they’re acting is so… strange. I have to make sure I haven’t fallen asleep and ended up in some kind of weird dream world.
“Yeah,” Mickey says, answering my question after pouring some milk into my tea. “You’ll have to follow us around. We still have games to play, so we can’t stay at the house with you every day.” I’m oddly relieved his tone tells me how much he hates the idea of me being everywhere. But if he sounded happy about it, I’d have to rethink the part about being asleep.
Taking a deep breath, I close my eyes, centering myself. “Okay,” I whisper. “I’ll do it, but—”
“No buts,” Soren growls. “This is the way it has to be.”
“I get that,” I snap, even though I’m not sure I do. “But I need my phone. My family and Luce need to be able to contact me. I can’t just fall off the face of the earth.”
Soren nods thoughtfully. “Supervised phone time,” he agrees. “And you need to tell Lucia that you’ve moved in with us.”
Shit… shit… shit… how the hell am I meant to do that? I can’t just say I’ve moved in without giving at least some answers. I try to tell them that, but neither of them seem to care too much about what they call ‘your problem, not ours’.
“Fine,” I almost growl when they still won’t budge and let me go to Luce’s house tomorrow. “Contact Sawyer and have him make sure Luce goes to practice with him tomorrow. I’ll talk to her at the arena.”
That they at least agree to, and I finish my cup of tea in silence. Thoughts keep swirling around in my head, and each one is more desperate than the last. By the time I’m ready for bed, I’m still no closer to figuring out what I’m going to say, or how I’m going to say it. In the end, I decide that’s a problem for tomorrow, and after telling them goodnight, I head upstairs and get ready for bed.
I don’t know if I drift off or simply get lost in my own head, but the next thing I’m aware of is the mattress dipping beside me. I stiffen, breath catching, as a familiar muscular arm snakes around my waist.
“Shh, it’s just me,” Mickey’s deep voice rumbles in my ear and I suppress a shiver.
“What are you doing?” I whisper, not turning to face him.
His hand splays across my stomach, large and possessive. “Told you, you have to stay real close, sweetheart.”
