Page 83 of Player Misconduct
I reach for his hand and guide it to the side of my belly. “He might be shy now, but…”
We wait. The clock ticks softly over the sink. Somewhere down the hall, an ice machine groans to life. Then… there. The faintest nudge, like a fingertip from the inside.
His breath catches. “Hei, pikkuinen,” he whispers. “It’s your papa.”
The word hangs between us. Papa. It slips under my defenses and finds the emptiest places. I turn my face so I can see him. There are damp crescents at the corners of his eyes he’s trying to pretend aren’t there.
“Fragile twin, huh?” I manage. “Hard to believe now.”
He grins crookedly. “I’m the product of parents who wouldn’t let me give up. We’ll do the same for him. No matter what,” he says, his eyes on me. “You’re going to be a great mother, Doc.’
Something inside me caves cleanly.
I didn’t realize I needed to hear it. Even more than that, I didn’t know I needed to hear him, of all people, believe it to be true.
I press the lotion bottle to my nose again and that scent—pine and powder and whatever that Finnish magic is—pulls up a thousand hospital corridors and lonely rooms and uncelebratedbirthdays and scrubs in fluorescent light… and erases them, just for a moment.
“This—” I start, and can’t finish.This is what a mother does.This is what family feels like.This is what safe is.
He doesn’t rush me. He just lets the silence cradle us both.
When the tears finally run their course, I swipe my face with the heel of my hand and try to pretend I haven’t soaked the front of his sweatshirt. “Sorry. Mood swings. Second trimester’s a riot.”
“I like all your moods,” he says simply. Then, to my belly, like it’s a secret, “Even the ones that make you hungry at three in the morning.”
I snort-laugh. “That happened once.”
“Twice,” he corrects, dimples out. “I was there for one and the Uber receipt says the other.”
I roll my eyes, but it’s useless; the smile is already spreading. “You’re impossible.”
“Mm,” he agrees, bright and unbothered. He glances at the clock. “You have patients this hour?”
“Not for another forty minutes.”
“Then sit,” he says, guiding me to the narrow trainer’s couch along the wall. “Feet up. Doctor’s orders.” He lifts a brow. “I’m a doctor-by-proxy.”
“Thank your mother for me, will you?” I ask as he gently props up my feet.
“I will. I have to get back to practice. I’ll check on you later?”
I nod, and then he heads for the door.
“Thank you Aleksi.” I call after him just as he stands in the doorway.
He turns and looks over his shoulder at me. His full stature eating up the doorway. “For what?”
“For giving me more than I thought was possible.”
His eyes lock onto mine. “I just got started, Kendall. I promise… this is just a warm up.”
Chapter Fifteen
Kendall
It starts with a buzz. Then another.
By the fifth notification, my phone screen looks like it’s having a seizure: Group texts, push alerts, gossip blog pings.
