Those Three Little Words

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen Pacey that angry,” I say to Blakely.

She came over after work when I texted her “911, my place now.” She knew I was telling the boys today, so I wasn’t surprised when she showed up with a gallon of vanilla ice cream, peanut butter cups, and fudge.

We didn’t say anything to each other when she arrived. Instead, we went straight to the kitchen, where we made ourselves giant sundaes. With stomachs full, we sat down on the couch, unfolded a large blanket, and curled under it while facing each other.

“He actually punched Hornsby?”

“Yeah, knocked him over. Hornsby wasn’t expecting it, and surprisingly, he didn’t react and punch Pacey back. I’ve seen Hornsby get angry during a game before. He doesn’t take shit from anyone.”

“Probably because he knew he was in the wrong,” Blakely says. “But it was a good thing Posey was there.”

“I feel bad that he was there. He was so uncomfortable. I should give him a fruit basket or something. Treat him to a bologna sandwich. Maybe create a love post about him so he can relish in all the comments.”

“All things he would appreciate.” Blakely brings the blanket over her shoulder. “So where did you guys leave it?”

“They were being obnoxious idiots, and the stress of it all was too much, so I left. Pacey was more concerned with how it happened than what actually happened and how I was feeling. He was adding to the stress.” I let out a huge sigh as tears well up in my eyes.

“What’s wrong?” Blakely places her hand on my knee.

“I don’t want to do this alone. My parents live all the way across the country. Pacey is in and out. Winnie, well, I feel bad for asking her for help because even though I love her, I don’t think we’re in a place where I can talk to her about the troubles of pregnancy and what I’m going through.”

“You have me.”

“And I appreciate that. I truly do. But you have a life too. I don’t want to take away from anything between you and Perry. That would not be fair. You guys have lives. You don’t need a baby mama in it.”

“That’s not true. You know we’ll be there for you.”

“I know, but it’s not the same. No matter how much I like to believe I have you and Pacey, the truth is, I’m going to be doing this alone, and that’s incredibly scary.”

“You really don’t think Hornsby will be there for you?” Blakely asks. “He’s a player, but he’s a good guy. One of the nicest guys on the team.”

“He is. Winnie even said when she stumbled on the cabin, he was the first to greet her, welcome her in, and make sure she had everything she needed. But you should have seen the look on his face when I told him. It was as if he wanted to slowly melt away. Would it be great if he was a part of all of this? Yes, but I’m not going to force someone to do something they don’t want to do, nor do I want to create animosity, you know?”

“You are being far too kind.” Blakely sits up on the couch. “If it was me, I’d demand that he be at my beck and call. Hell, I’d make him move in.”

“That’s so weird. Pacey said the same thing.”

Blakely taps the side of her head. “That’s because we’re smart.”

“You’re delusional.”

I’ve played Hornsby’s words over in my head several times since I left the office, and I still don’t know what to make of them.

I’ve fucking liked her for a while.

She wasn’t some random to me.

You’re amazing, and I’ve thought about that night so goddamn much.

She’s not like other girls, but I’m just not into the dating and commitment thing.

On the one hand, his words today matched those of five weeks ago. He’s wanted me for a while . . . but he certainly hasn’t shown any interest in me or sought me out since that night. He’s probably been back out there hooking up. Back to his normal MO.

Continuing, I say, “Hornsby has his own schedule, and it’s a bachelor’s schedule. It works for him. There is no way he’d move in here. I think I’ll be lucky if—”

Knock. Knock.

Blakely and I turn toward the door and then glance at each other.

“Bet that’s Pacey,” Blakely says. “I’m sure he has a litany of apologies to make.”

He sure does, but I don’t know if I have the energy to hear them tonight. Do I believe I went about telling him the correct way? Probably not. I was selfish in the moment and wanted to get it over with, so telling them at the same time seemed like the best option for me, but I should have told them separately. I should have pulled Hornsby to the side and explained everything to him, let it soak in, and then when he was mentally ready, we could have told Pacey. But fear and anxiety took over my decision-making.

I probably should jump on the apology train, too, because that wasn’t fair to them.

Not at all.

“Do you want me to get the door?” Blakely asks.

“No, I’ll get it. But depending on his mood, you should be prepared to leave or stay.”

She chuckles. “Mentally preparing for both.”

I shed the warm blanket from my body and then stand from the couch. The sharp movement causes me to rock back as I attempt to catch my balance. Dizziness beats through me, and before I know it, I’m collapsing back on the couch.

“Holy shit,” Blakely says, coming up to me. “Are you okay?”

I blink a few times as the room spins around me. “Uh, yeah . . . wow, just really dizzy.”

“Don’t move.” Blakely goes to the door, and I turn in that direction just as she opens it, revealing not only Pacey but Hornsby as well. At his side are two suitcases, one large one, one medium one, and his travel bag.

What on earth does he think he’s doing?

“Hey, is Penny here?” Pacey asks just as he spots me on the couch. He pushes through the door, and Hornsby follows him, maneuvering his luggage into the small entryway.

“She just got really dizzy,” Blakely says, which of course alarms Pacey.

He quickly sits on the coffee table in front of me and leans forward, placing his hand on my knee. “Are you okay?”

“Fine,” I say, sitting up taller. “Just stood up too fast is all. Nothing to worry about.”

Pacey’s jaw clenches as he glances back at Hornsby and Blakely. “This is what I was afraid of. Something happening to you and not having anyone here to help.”

“Pacey, I stood up wrong. It’s fine.”

“It’s not fine.” He pushes his hand through his hair, and I can see the worry deepening in his brow.

When I first moved out here, Pacey vowed to our mom and dad that he would watch over me and make sure that I was okay. He’s taken that promise very seriously. He always makes sure to check on me, have dinners together, and just hang out. Even when he came home with Winnie, he included me. He’s made sure I’ve had everything I needed. I ran out of gas one day on my way to work, and he went out of his way to help me and was late to conditioning because of it. He’s protective, and he always will be.

“Pacey, seriously, I’m fine.” I stand, and this time, I don’t grow dizzy—thank God. I move around the couch and eye Hornsby’s bags. Pointing at them, I ask, “What’s this?”

Joining us in the entryway area, Pacey says, “Hornsby is moving in.”

“Oh, this is good,” Blakely mutters to herself.

“What?” I shake my head. “No, he’s not.”

I know Pacey mentioned it, and Blakely had the same idea, but there is no way I thought it would happen. From the looks of it, Hornsby was handed marching orders rather than making this decision on his own. His usually broad, proud shoulders are turned in, his chin is lowered, and his hands are stuffed in his pockets, making him look more like a wounded puppy than someone who wants to take charge of the situation.

“Yes, he is,” Pacey says. “And this dizzy spell is exactly why. You can’t be alone. You need someone here, helping you.”

“You guys are constantly traveling. It’s not like he’d be here all the time anyway. So what’s the point?”

“The point is, he would be here a lot of the time, and that’s what matters the most. And when he’s not here, Winnie and Blakely can check on you.”

“Thanks for volunteering me,” Blakely says. “But I’ve already told her that I’d be here, even if Hornsby chose not to be a part of this.”

“I want to be a part of this,” Hornsby says, his voice lacking its usual jovial tone.

“Oh yeah, really sounds like it,” Blakely says sarcastically.

Hornsby turns to her. “Can you not start shit?”

“I’m not. Just making sure you’re stepping up.”

“Why the fuck do people keep saying that?” he asks, his voice now tainted in anger. “I’m not some deadbeat fuckup who doesn’t own up to his mistakes.” He motions to me. “What happened between Penny and me is between Penny and me, and I’d really fucking appreciate it if you would both leave so I can talk to her. Alone.”

Without blinking an eye, Blakely is moving around my apartment, collecting her things while Pacey stands ramrod straight with his arms crossed at his chest. I can tell he’s not going to move unless I say something.

So I walk up to him, place my hand on his shoulder, and say, “I’ve got this, Pace. Please let me handle it.”

Turning toward me, he looks me in the eyes, and says, “I’m good with making sure this is seen through.”

“Pacey.” I let out a deep sigh. “Please leave. I’m asking you to please let me handle this myself. I’ll call you later, okay?”

We exchange looks for a few beats before he finally gives in and pulls me into a hug. Tears well up in my eyes as I wrap my arms around him and hug him tightly.

Quietly, I whisper, “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t,” he says. “It’s fine. We’ll figure this out.” He places a kiss on the top of my head and then gives me one last squeeze before walking toward the front door with Blakely. He holds it open for her, and together, they exit the apartment, the door softly clicking shut behind them.

And that leaves me alone with Hornsby once again, but instead of the electric excitement that bounced between us toward the end of our night together, there is an awkward, uncomfortable feeling suffocating us, pulling all the air from the space.

He can’t be happy, and I don’t blame him. I went about this all the wrong way, and I’m not ashamed to say that I owe him an apology.

“Do you want something to drink?” I ask him.

He shakes his head and when he looks up and his eyes connect with mine, I can see it written all over his face. He’s just as scared as I am.

“We need to talk.” He walks past me and goes to the couch, where he takes a seat.

Okay, scared and angry.

Like I said, I’ve seen Hornsby angry before, but it’s only been during a game. I’ve never seen him angry outside of hockey. He’s always the jovial, good-time guy. So this side of him, it’s new for me.

I follow him to the couch and take a seat as well, draping the blanket over my legs. Anything to add an extra layer of comfort for the conversation we’re about to have.

“Listen,” I say, pinning my gaze on him, “I need to apologize.” His eyes connect with mine. “How I told you about the baby, that wasn’t fair to you at all. I was being selfish because I was scared, and I figured telling you both at the same time would be easier for me. I didn’t think about how you would take it, or how Pacey would take it. I’m really sorry. If I could do it all over again, I would. I’d offer you the respect you deserve as the father of this child and tell you alone. I hope you can forgive me.”

His eyes soften. “I’m not mad at you, Penny. I know you did what you had to do out of self-preservation. Let’s face it. I don’t have the best background when it comes to women, nor do I have a childhood with positive parental influencers. I seem like a flight risk, I get it.”

“I didn’t think that at all. None of that was taken into consideration,” I say. “I don’t even know about your childhood or anything like that. I was just scared, and I acted before I thoroughly thought everything through, and for that, I’m really sorry.”

“Please stop apologizing. It’s not necessary.”

“It is for me,” I say. “This has been weighing heavily on my chest, and I truly am regretful for how . . .” My throat chokes, and my eyes water. God, what is with the emotions? I suck in a deep breath as a tear springs free and drops down my cheek. “For how I handled everything. I’m sorry, Hornsby.”

Silence greets us for what feels like an eternity, but when he finally speaks up, he says, “Eli. Please call me Eli.”

“Oh . . . I’m sorry, Eli.”

His lips rub together before he looks away. “I understand where you’re coming from, and like I said, apology not needed, but I accept it either way.” He grips his hands together, fingers lacing. “I know things are kind of weird right now. Pacey is on the verge of a heart attack or committing murder, you have got to be terrified, and well, frankly, I feel like everything is crumbling around me, and I have no control over it.” He turns toward me. “And I say that just so you understand where I’m at.”

I nod. “I understand completely. I’ve had the same feeling.”

“And not to get too much into it, but I haven’t had the best of luck growing up, so the idea of trying to raise a child when I can barely figure out how to mentally push past the feeling of abandonment that I live with on a daily basis, well . . . it’s fucking with my head.”

Abandonment? Who abandoned him?

Just goes to show how much I don’t know about this man.

But from the strain in his eyes and the tension in his shoulders, I can tell that this news is not easy for him. It seems to have awakened the demons he’s apparently living with, and that can’t possibly be a simple thing to face. I’d hate to see him fall down a dark path, one that brings him pain, and despite being scared and afraid, the last thing I want to do is make this hard on someone who is already possibly suffering.

I have a solid support system, and I know if it came down to it, my mom would come out to help me if I truly needed it. But like Pacey said, I have him, I have Blakely, and I have Winnie. I’ll be okay.

I’m not so sure Eli will.

Which only means one thing . . .

I wipe at my cheeks and take a deep breath. “Eli.” His beautiful eyes meet mine. “I’m not sure what you’re dealing with mentally. I can’t possibly know because we barely know each other outside of hockey, but what I do know is I wouldn’t want to put you in a position where you’re fighting demons that have reawakened from your past. It’s not good for you, and it’s not good for the team. Hockey is your number one priority along with your mental health.” I reach out and press my hand to his knee. “It’s okay. I can do this.”

His head slightly tilts to the side as he studies me, and after a few beats, he says, “Christ, you’re a strong woman, Penny. But that’s not what I was trying to say. I wasn’t looking for an out, but rather, looking for an in.”

Confused, I sit up. “What are you talking about?”

“I want to preface this by saying, your brother isn’t forcing me to do anything I don’t want to do. He’s a strong, opinionated man, but if I wanted to take him on one-on-one, there’s no doubt I would win.” I believe it. Hornsby, oh, I mean Eli, is two inches taller than Pacey with probably ten more pounds of muscle. My brother is big, but Eli could easily take him. There is no doubt in my mind. “I don’t want to be the person who walks out, like my dad. I don’t want to be the unreliable person who doesn’t understand the importance of bringing another human life into this world. I grew up without a father, and I’ll be damned if this baby lives that same life.” He shakes his head. “That circle ends here.” He reaches out to touch my hand. “You will not be walking this journey alone, Penny.”

Probably because of the conviction in his voice and the sincerity in his eyes, tears I’ve been holding back cascade down my heated cheeks.

You will not be walking this journey alone, Penny.

It’s all I can think about as he continues to speak. “I want to be here for every step of it, every part of this. I want . . . well”—he grips the back of his neck—“I want to get to know you better and build a friendship, so when our baby is born, he or she will know that there is no animosity between us. I want him to know we’re friends.”

“I would like to be friends,” I say, knowing damn well he made a point of saying friends. Not that I’d want anything romantic to happen between us—I’m not even close to thinking about that at the moment—but from that comment, it’s obvious where Eli stands. Friendship and that’s it. Even though he was attracted to me, pregnancy has totally eradicated that.

“And I know this is asking a lot, but if you’re okay with it, I’d like to stay here with you—”

“Eli . . .”

“Before you say no,” he quickly says, “just hear me out, okay?” Sighing, I lean back on the couch now and nod. “This isn’t just about helping you, which of course is one of the main reasons for doing this, but I also want to experience everything with you. I’m not carrying the baby, but at least I can be present, as present as my schedule will allow. I can be there when the baby kicks, they can learn my voice, and I can be there while they grow.”

“And what happens when the baby is born? You can’t possibly think we’ll continue to live together.”

“No, but I can always find a place closer, or we can both find apartments that are situated next to each other.”

I let out a large guffaw. “Eli, your budget for an apartment is much different than mine.”

“I’ll help pay for it. Hell, I’ll buy you a place. I don’t care—”

“I don’t want your money.”

“Then it’s something we’ll figure out when the time comes closer, but for now, please just let me be a part of this.”

Those imploring eyes nearly cut me in half.

“This is a one-bedroom apartment, Eli.”

“This couch is comfortable,” he says, patting the back of it. “I don’t care where I sleep. None of that matters. All that I care about is being supportive to you and making sure I’m a part of this baby’s life.”

His eyes plead with me, and I swear, if I look closely, I can see them turning glossy, as he holds his breath, waiting for an answer.

How on earth could I possibly say no to him? To the hope that’s pulsing through him. To the desperation he obviously feels.

I can’t.

And I don’t want to.

“Okay,” I say.

“Okay?” he asks, sitting taller.

I nod. “Yeah, you can stay here. But you don’t have to sleep on the couch. I have a king-sized bed. I don’t mind sharing a bed with the obvious knowledge that nothing is going to happen.”

He smirks. “Trust me, I learned my lesson the first time.” He grips his jaw. “Your brother has a mean right hook.”

I chuckle. “I wish I could say you’re the first guy he’s used it on when standing up for me, but you’re not.”

“I can only imagine what it was like growing up with him.” He relaxes slightly. “I don’t mind sleeping on the couch.”

“I do,” I say. “You need a good night’s sleep, and I can’t imagine what the team . . . and fans, for that matter, would think if you were sleeping on a couch. Hockey comes first.”

He shakes his head. “That’s where you’re wrong, Penny. Hockey doesn’t come first. You and this baby do.” He scoots in closer and is about to take my hand when he thinks better of it. Instead, he laces his fingers together again. “There will be times when I don’t have a choice other than to put hockey before you because of my obligations to the team, but just know, that isn’t my choice. You and the baby are now more important than any of that.”

“Eli, I’d never take you away from the sport. I grew up with a brother playing hockey. I’ve dated hockey players before, so I know the commitment that’s needed at this level, and I’d never, ever hold that against you.”

“I know you wouldn’t.”

“So, where do we go from here?”

He looks around my apartment, taking it all in, and then turns back to me. “Care to give me a tour?”

I smile softly. “I’d love to.”