Page 74 of Cross Check Daddies
She strokes my hair. “We start small. First, we call your OB in the morning and set up an appointment.”
“Ivy…”
“I know, baby. I know.”
“I was careful. Most of the time. Except for that one night with Tanner. And... once with Cam. And then with Ace…”
She kisses the top of my head. “It’s okay.”
“It’s not,” I say. “I have a game launch. I have three separate relationships. I have no idea who the father is. And I don’t even know if I am ready for another baby.”
Her voice is steady, her presence grounding. “You don’t have to decide everything tonight. You’re not alone. You’ll figure this out.”
I close my eyes. Her fingers press softly at the nape of my neck, and I let the tears come again.
Because I am scared.
Because I am tired.
Because I don’t know how to tell the men I love that I’m carrying a child that could belong to any one of them.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Tanner
I waketo the smell of bacon. It's the kind of scent that punches you right in the chest and drags you out of bed before your brain even catches up.
I roll out from under the sheets, stretch once, and wander toward the kitchen in my boxers, rubbing the sleep from my face.
Cam stands by the stove in a t-shirt and joggers, flipping pancakes like he’s been up for hours. A pot of coffee steams on the counter. The radio hums low with morning talk. It’s strangely domestic, considering that we both know what we’re doing with the same woman.
“Coffee?” he asks, not looking over.
“Yeah,” I grunt, grabbing a mug. “You’re early.”
He shrugs. “Woke up hungry.”
I pour myself a cup, lean against the counter, and sip. The silence is easy between us, but the air always gets a little heavier when Brooke’s name hovers near it. We’ve been careful. Polite, even.
Neither of us goes into detail. We don’t compare notes or schedule rotations. But we both know. Weknow. She’s been seeing us both. And we’re both still here.
“You headed to the arena?” he asks, glancing up.
I shake my head. “Thinking of grabbing bagels and heading to see Brooke.”
He flips another pancake. “Tell her I said hey.”
I nod, finish my coffee, and head back to my room to get ready.
It’s a quick change—jeans, boots, leather jacket. I grab my keys and helmet and straddle the bike out front, letting the engine roar once before pulling out into the street. The ride clears my head. The wind’s sharp enough to wake me fully, the city blurring around me.
By the time I pull into the GameHatch lot, I’m in a better mood. But when I walk into the front lobby, Lisa glances up from her screen and offers me a soft smile.
“She’s not in yet,” she says. “Want me to let her know you came by?”
“Nah. I’ll wait a bit.”
I park myself on the edge of one of the lobby chairs, scrolling through my phone. Time ticks by. Ten minutes. Fifteen. Twenty-five. I text her. No response.
