Page 48 of Hooking

“Shit.”

“Seriously, what the fuck, Halloway?”

Hand on my cock, I turn away from the phone and come face to face with Mitchell Tremblay, who has a disgusted look on his face.

“Fuck,” I say, as I scramble to cover myself; my phone falling muffles the sound of her orgasm. “What the hell are you doing in my room, Tremblay?. A little privacy, man?”

He doesn’t turn to leave or respond; he simply walks further into the room and tosses his bag on the other empty bed. He takes a seat next to it before kicking off his shoes and moving toward the head of the bed.

Looks like fun time’s over. One hand still covering my dock, I snatch my phone from the bed and make my way to the bathroom, shutting the door behind me. I place the phone on the counter and see Cassidy putting her clothes back on. “Sorry about that,” I say to her as she smiles at me.

“I’m not. I finished. Looks like you’re going to have to give yourself a little TLC before practice tonight,” she says, with a slight smirk. “I’ll talk to you later.”

And just like that, the screen goes dark. I drop my head between my shoulders, silently cursing Talya for fucking with my room assignment. I move to the shower, turning it to cold before stepping under the spray. The cold water instantly distinguishes any sense of buildup. I quickly wash myself before stepping out and wrapping a white towel around my waist. Walking back into the room, I find Tremblay just where I left him and move to get dressed.

I nod in his direction before dropping my towel and putting on a pair of black boxers, followed by a pair of shorts. “Hey,” I say, as I pull the white Skipjacks t-shirt overhead. “Sorry you walked in on that. I was supposed to have my own room. Didn’t think anyone would walk in on me and my girl.”

He grunts as he moves off the bed, a permanent scowl prominent on his face. “Whatever,” he mumbles as he enters the bathroom and locks the door.

This road trip just went from awesome to shit in two point five seconds.

Chapter 24

Cassidy

Imove to sit up on the exam table as my new OB completes her exam. I was having a bit of lower abdominal pains along with some contractions over the last couple of days. It could be because I was putting nursery furniture together and deep cleaning everything while Channing was away, but one can never be too sure.

“Well, the good news is, your cervix isn’t dilated. However, your blood pressure is slightly elevated,” she says, removing her glove, then pulling the blanket draped over my legs down. “But I don’t think it’s anything to be too concerned of right now.”

I nod as I try to steady my breathing. When I started contracting last night, I was a little floored. Channing is on the road, and I’m alone. I didn’t know what to do if it had been more serious. Not many people know that we’re together and having a baby, so it’s not like I could call management and say I need him to come home ASAP.

Shit, maybe we should have said something to management at the least. That way, if I do have something happen, he can be there. Maybe we should just make an Instagram post and announce it to anyone.

“So, you have any questions for me?” the doctor interrupts my inner battle.

“No, that’s it,” I say, trying not to show my inner panic.

“Then I will see you in two weeks.”

I immediately get changed and exit the office, pulling my phone to text Channing. They’re finishing their last away game in Winnipeg, so he may be on the ice, but the thoughts of what can happen while he’s away scare me.

Cassidy: We need to talk to management about us and the baby.

I press send and hope that we’ll get to talk as soon as he gets back to the hotel. We haven’t had much alone time since his first night away was interrupted by Mitchell Tremblay.

Channing has said he hasn’t been too bad of a roommate. He’s quiet but because he doesn’t have many friends on the team, he barely leaves the room, which doesn’t give us much time to have a little risqué FaceTime.

I drop my keys in the key dish before kicking off my shoes as I enter the house. I head to the kitchen and grab a bottle of water before heading upstairs to change into my painting clothes. I know the doctor said to take it easy, but I want to surprise Channing when he gets home.

I’m glad he didn’t hire someone to decorate the nursery. It wouldn’t feel like mine if I let some designers come in and completely impersonalize the place. The dark greenish-teal walls with white wainscot paneling pop against the dark-gray crib that sits on top of a white and gray chevron area rug. The matching dark-gray dresser sits on the opposite wall, with a changing pad on top and a wicker basket next to it, for all her bath needs. The light-gray rocking chair recliner I spent way to much money on, sits in the corner next to the large floor-to-ceiling window with shelves for books hanging above them. It’s perfect and is everything I had envisioned for my little girl. All that’s left is to hang her name above the crib. A name we have yet to pick.

I check the time as I finish hanging some of the décor I bought for the nursery and see that it’s almost five. I decide to try Channing’s phone again. I made a promise to him that I would keep him up to date on all OB visits, and I’m not about to break that promise now. The phone rings twice before a groggy voice comes over the line.

“Hello?” he rasps out as I hear the sheets ruffling in the bed.

“Shit, did I wake you?” I say, immediately feeling guilty. He has a game day routine, and I hate that I possibly threw a wrench into it. “I should have just waited,” I say, as he cuts me off.

“It’s fine, babe. What’s wrong? Is everything okay with the baby?” he says, a hint of concern echoing in his voice.

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