Page 171 of Hockey Halloween
Tori grunts, shifting her weight on the chair. “This child is never coming out. He’s going to be thirty years old and instead of living in his parents’ basement, he’s going to be playing Xbox in my uterus.” She knocks on her stomach like it’s a door. “You hear me, you little shit? Fuck!” She jumps up in her chair. “Little turkey punched me.” She rubs a flat palm over the spot where the baby kicked. “If you put as much effort into coming out of my body as you do to flailing your limbs around, you could be out here hanging out with your brother by now.”
I roll my lips, shaking my head. She looks so damn tired, and she’s said for weeks now how she can’t remember what her feet look like.
Across the room, Raffi’s eyes linger on her like a protective lion. He tried to give her water a little while ago, and she told him to stop mothering her. Her temper is on a tightwire, she’s ready to snap. It’s like we’re all waiting for either her to go into labor, or for Raffi’s body to turn up dead somewhere.
“He’s looking at me again, isn’t he?” She snorts at my nod. “He’s always hovering, he’s like…” She puts her hand up next to her face. “Always here.”
Savannah drops onto the chair next to the couch. “He’s just enjoying being here this time around.” Her voice has a dreamy quality to it. “He missed your pregnancy with Wyatt, Tor. He missed the birth, his early years…” She swallows. “Let the man be excited to be here this time around.”
It’s on the tip of my tongue to ask why Raffi wasn’t involved in his son’s early years, but Penelope touches my leg. “They got together, wham, bam, preggo, ma’am, then he took a hit to the head and forgot she ever existed.”
I gasp, my hand flying to my chest. “No.” My eyes widen at Tori, silently pleading with her to tell me it’s all a wicked joke.
Instead, her eyes fill with tears as she nods. “I hated him for years thinking he’d abandoned us.” She pats her tummy. “Turns out, he had no idea.”
My mouth drops open. I just… can’t fathom something so tragic.
Savannah squeezes Tori’s hand. “I have a secret.” She looks over at where Justin and Raffi are standing in a cluster with Tate and Mason. “But don’t react, we haven’t told his family yet.” She rubs her stomach, and we all gasp, shriek, and definitely react.
“For fuck’s sake, Vannah.” Justin’s amused admonishment carries across the room, and he turns to presumably tell the boys what she’s just told us.
“It’s not my fault you have a breeding kink, playboy,” she shoots back.
“I think they all do.” Penelope takes a sip of her drink.
“I swear, they all just want to put babies in us.” Eloise tops up a few glasses before joining the group and taking a swig of champagne straight from the bottle. Her face is sad, so I beckon her over to sit on my lap so I can smush her. She and Ares have had two miscarriages. They weren’t trying the first time, but since she got pregnant, it seems Ares just can’t wait to be a dad, even though he’s still in college.
We don’t know much, yet, but Eloise seems to be having trouble conceiving. She’s convinced it’s because of the accident that claimed her mother’s life and left Eloise with scars over one side of her face.
“Can confirm.” Edith holds out a massive platter of food to the group. “Close your ears, Hen.” She jerks her chin at Athena’s who’s appeared with another platter of canapes. “But I swear to fuck. I don’t know how Pollo’s dick is still functioning. All he does is bang me.”
“Who’s banging?” Apollo appears behind her and grinds his crotch against her ass.
She waves him off. “No. Swiss cheese. My pussy needs a fucking time out from you today.”
“Swiss cheese?” Eloise asks before any of us can stop her. I’m not sure she truly wants to know the answer.
“It’s our safe word,” Edith huffs out between bites of puff pastry.
“I don’t get it,” Eloise answers quietly.
“Because after he’s done, I’ve got more holes than a block of Emmental—and I need a time-out before he discovers a few new ones.”
Most of us groan, but the boys take it as some kind of invitation to join our discussion from across the room.
“Because when he’s finished, her body’s got more ventilation than a deli counter.” That one came from my man, and he’s wiggling his brows at me like he’s so fucking proud of himself and wants a gold star.
“Because she’s a gourmet snack, full of holes, creamy, and totally irresistible,” adds Raffi.
“Because every time he finishes with her, she feels like she’s been through a fondue party with no exits.” That one comes from Ares and makes Eloise snort champagne through her nose.
Mason and I have already had the talk. We don’t want any babies of our own, we’re happy to play the doting aunt and uncle, but if it turns out Eloise and Ares can’t have any bio kids, I might have to bring up a discussion to him about helping them a little and offering to be a surrogate for them.
The guys all look at Apollo like they’re waiting for him to contribute to the jokes. He looks at Edith who huffs out a sigh and rolls her eyes before waving a hand in his direction. “Go on, you know you’re bursting to join in.”
He grins. “How dirty can I go?”
She snorts. “Go on, Pollo, do your worst.”
