Page 95 of Delayed Offsides

I completely blow past the marry-you part. I know I said I didn’t want to talk about it, and I don’t, but I need to know if I’m leaving this hospital alone or with Leo. “Are we doing this? Because the last thing I remember was you basically calling me a slut.”

Without hesitating, he leans forward and presses his lips to Caleb’s forehead and then reaches for my hand, squeezing it gently. “I’m all in. Forever. You’re never ever breaking up with me.”

“You sound like a Taylor Swift song,” I tell him through an emotional laugh.

“I’ll be whatever you need me to be. A song, boyfriend, baby daddy…” His eyes lift to mine. “Husband.”

I smile. “One day at a time.”

But the idea of being Leo’s wife? Not a terrible one.

OVERTIME

CHAPTER25

FACE OFF

LEO

When the referee drops the puck between two opposing players to start or resume the game after a stoppage in play.

When you leavethe hospital with the baby, it’s scary as shit. It’s like going from playing in the NHL to playing back in the juniors. I blame those nurses in the hospital for giving us false hope and treating us like royalty. Because when we leave, it’s clear we have no fucking clue how to take care of this kid.

Even the simplest things take us hours. Like changing his diaper. Takes both of us, being peed on, and two diapers before we get one on him, and he isn’t even moving. Just lying there, staring at us like we’re a bunch of fucking idiots.

And in the weeks that follow us with a newborn baby, it’s like training camp. Instead of a coach yelling drills at you, you have this little monster crying nonstop and begging to be held all night long like you should somehow learn how to sleep standing up while bouncing up and down. It’s the worst. I’m not sure I’ll ever have another kid again.

Kidding. I think.

Believe it or not, some of my best memories of him will be in those first few weeks of his life in ours. I sit up with him for hours, rocking, helping feed him, anything to help Callie out. During the first few weeks, she can’t lift anything, so I’m able to help and prove my worth. You know I needed to.

After a month, though, I’m convinced there’s something wrong with Caleb. I’m serious. He cries so much. Maybe they gave us the wrong baby. Or maybe he just doesn’t fucking like us. Between the middle-of-the-night feeding, crying, burping, crying, projectile vomiting, crying, explosive shitting, crying… Did I mention crying? Yeah, I think he doesn’t like us.

Unfortunately, reality creeps in, and the hockey season is nearing. I’m leaving for training camp this morning, and though part of me is dreading it, the other is excited because I want away from Caleb’s wailing. Little adorable bastard is notorious for giving me a piece of his mind—by crying—in the middle of the night.

Oh, also, fun fact, I did not realize until after Caleb’s dramatic arrival, Callie is a heavy sleeper.

I’m not.

When I get ready to leave in the morning for training camp, Callie is staring at Caleb. She has him lying in the middle of our bed, peering down at him like she’s trying to put a spell on him.

I laugh and reach for my suit jacket on the end of the bed. “I hope you’re having a telepathic conversation with him where you’re telling him this crying has to stop,” I tease, but then again, I’m not teasing at all. I’ve even googled it. Google says it’s normal, but you know what they say: you can’t believe everything you read on the internet.

Callie’s holding a diaper in one hand and a bottle in the other, probably unsure which one he wants first. Who knows with this kid. “I’m not sure if I should feed him first, and then break it to him he needs his diaper changed, or change him, and then comfort him with food.”

I smile and move closer to the bed. “Oh, tough choice.”

Callie glances up at me. Her hair is messy and wild, wearing only my jersey, and her bare thighs are oh so tempting. “He’s probably thinking, wow, I have a shitty mom.”

I chuckle and press my lips to the top of her head. “Nah. He’s probably just wondering how he got stuck with the both of us.”

Callie looks at Caleb, then me, and laughs. “He drew the short stick when they were assigning parents.”

“Totally.” I laugh, leaning in to kiss her forehead. “Poor little guy.”

“I might change him first. Every time I feed him, it’s like he’s trying to alligator death roll my nipple.”

I stare at Caleb. “Dude, go easy on Mama. I’d like to suck on those nipples again someday.”

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