Page 62 of Triple Power Play 3
“Do you think this is weird?” She yawns and covers her mouth.
“Which part?” I chuckle. “Our life is quite unusual.”
“Us lying together. The four of us living together. Me being pregnant. You not allowing me to leave, carrying me into the house. Aren’t you worried Charlie will say something?”
She places her small hand on my stomach, and I interlace our fingers.
“At home, we can do whatever we want. I’ll talk to Charlie. You’ve been pregnant the entire time I’ve been with you. I cared for you in New York, carried you to bed, and you were pregnant. Nothing has changed.”
She makes a sleepy sound of agreement.
“You wanna nap in your room or stay here?”
“Here.”
I hold her close, replaying her words in my head until she drifts off. Then, I carefully break free of her to find my partner.
28
ETHAN
Jax gazes up at me from the bench, his damp hair falling onto his face. He’s shirtless, with the lower half of his gear still on.
His best friend sits beside him. I interrupted their conversation about riding. Grant was offering to go to Kyle’s with Jackson to get his Ducati. It’s not a good idea. Jax doesn’t need to be on a motorcycle or at Kyle’s right now, and I make a mental note to discuss it with him later.
Jax lifts his chin. “Hey, what’s up?”
“PR wants you.” I nod toward the door. “You up for media?”
They wanted an interview in the locker room, with him breathless from a hard practice, sweaty and half-naked, but I held them off. I’m not about to let them bombard him.
PR hasn’t granted reporters access to him since he relapsed—well, besides the tunnel incident, which was outside our management. After his suspension, they did a photo shoot but wouldn’t allow any Q&A.
His first home game, following the night he relapsed, is tomorrow. We’ve won every game since his return, and we’re on our way to clinching the playoffs. He’s playing better than ever, and the team hasn’t been this good since his rookie year.
Everyone is itching for a piece of Jackson O’Reilly.
But he’s been in a weird mood. Up and down. Unpredictable. He barely sleeps. He’s edgy; I feel it.
He rakes his fingers through his wet hair. “Will it get them to leave me alone? My phone hasn’t stopped buzzing.”
“I make no promises. Might as well get it over with.”
He snatches a towel from his cubby, wipes his face, and changes quickly.
We exit the locker room, and the PR team swarms in. A girl I don’t recognize smiles at Jax and reaches to fix his hair.
He knocks her wrist away. “Don’t touch me.”
Her face flushes bright red, and silence descends among the group. No one seems to know how to handle him.
I clasp his shoulder. “What’s wrong with his hair?” I glance between him and the girl.
She shakes her head, her eyes glassy, and everyone averts their gaze.
I shrug and tousle Jax’s hair. “Be nice.”
“Do they play with your hair before you go out there?”
