Six months later…

My leg bounces as the plane bumps across the tarmac in a rough landing. I’m on edge and this flight didn’t help in the least. It’s good to be home even if I have shit to do while I’m here. Back to check in on the team’s golden boy, being on top of the list. Since I’m the assistant captain and what they call a veteran player, I’ve been playing with Chicago for ten years now, it’s part of my job to also mentor one of our incoming new guys.

Every year I have at minimum, one draft pick out of Fulton University to babysit since it’s where I went and Boston is my hometown. At least it allows me to come home a couple times a year to see the family. This trip is perfect with Christmas being in a few days. Two birds, one stone. Then get back to Chi-town and back on the ice.

The flight attendant comes over the PA and announces that we’ve arrived in Boston and that the temperature is a chilly twenty degrees. Fuck. It’s not any warmer here than it was in Chicago. I really need to think about splitting my time between Chicago and someplace tropical. There’s only so much cold a man can take, even if I do live my life on the ice.

I unbuckle and stand, careful not to bump my head on the bins. As I wait for them to let us off, I catch the pretty attendant giving me one last look over. She spent the entire flight catering to my every need. If I wasn’t so sore from last night’s game I might have let her cater to another need of mine. Maybe. Probably not though. She’s not my type.

Hell, lately nobody is. Still, a slow grin steals across my face as I make my way past her and she discretely brushes her chest against my arm slipping something into the palm of my hand. I’m guessing it’s her number. Not slowing to check, I shove the scrap of paper in the pocket of my jeans until I can toss it. I’m not here for that. Normally, I would be all over that but not this trip.

My sister offered to pick me up from the airport but I turned her down insisting on taking a cab to my place. I needed the down time to relax before being surrounded by the whole family. There would be plenty of time for that in the coming week. It’s the longest break I’ve had mid- season. The NHL doesn’t stop for the holidays typically. By some freakish stroke of luck, our team has a seven-day blackout while they do some work on our stadium and practice facility. That it came at Christmas time is truly a miracle. This will be the first Christmas that I’ve been home in the ten years I’ve played in the NHL, unless we were in town playing Boston.

Bypassing luggage, one nice thing about maintaining a house here, and heading straight for the curb and the lineup of taxis, I pull my beanie out of my back pocket and pull it low on my forehead doing my best not to make eye contact with anyone. It’s not the norm for me to be recognized, but hockey is a big deal here in Boston and this is my hometown. So it has been known to happen from time to time.

I’m almost in the clear when the guy putting people in cabs recognizes me and asks for my autograph which then draws the attention of other people, most of whom probably still don’t know who I am, but don’t want to miss out on the possibility of meeting someone who may or may not be famous. For ten minutes in the freezing ass cold, I smile and sign autographs.

The only one I didn’t mind was a kid, Jake, about ten or so, who came over reciting stats and telling me he’s going to play for FU when he’s older just like I did. Him I liked and made sure to take extra time with, even getting an email address from his mom so I could send him some stuff. He reminded me of myself when I was that age. With a two finger wave, I climb into the waiting cab and give him my address and we head out to the harbor and home.

We pull up in front of my building on Commercial Wharf and I can’t help but smile. I love Chicago, but this is home. After paying the cabbie, I slide out of the backseat, the crisp winter air swirls around bringing with it the smell of the harbor.

“Hey, hey, hey! It’s the man with the plan. Welcome home!” The doorman, old enough to be my grandfather, greets.

“What does that even mean, Harry?” I chuckle, taking the hand he holds out for a firm shake.

“You know, the plan.” The old guy is looking at me with an expectant look, waiting for me to get it.

“Whatever you say, old man. You’ll send my mail up?”

“You got it, kid. You need anything else? You got food up there?” Harry is more than the doorman here. He’s a little bit of everything. Concierge, locksmith, handyman. Hell, I’ve even had him go on a beer run a time or two.

“Nah, should be good. Thank you, sir.” I give him a mock salute and walk into the lobby and out of the cold. As I wait for the elevator, my phone buzzes in my pocket. I pull it out and grin, “Hey, ma.”

“You home, sweetie?”

“Yeah, just got here. I need a shower and a nap, maybe a massage before I head your way though.”

“It was a rough game last night, huh? That Slejek kid hit you hard.”

I can’t help but chuckle. The “Slejek kid” is a six foot four goon. My ma has always been my biggest fan and the one to drag my ass all over the damn country to freeze her ass of in one rink or another. “Yeah he did. Few times.”

“I saw. Dad wasn’t real happy about it. Said he always was a dirty player.”

The elevator opens on my floor as I listen to her go on.

“It happens. I gave it back to him though.”

“You sure did, sweetie.” She says, pride in her voice. Only a true hockey mom would be proud of her son for knocking a player on his ass.

“Okay, ma. I’ll be by in a couple hours. I promise.”

“We’ll be here. Your sisters are coming for dinner to see you.”

“Sounds good. Bye.”

Shortest conversation I think I’ve ever had with the woman. Letting myself in and tossing my stuff onto the counter, I make my way over to the floor to ceiling windows to take in the view of the harbor, park and the city. All right there. My eyes drift to the hot tub and I can’t help but think about the last time I was in it and what I was doing.

“What if the neighbors look out their windows? They’ll see us.”

“Let em’ watch, Stella.”

I scrub a hand over my face willing the thought away. After our last run, in I can guarantee there won’t be a repeat of that performance. No matter how often I think about it and her. She got under my skin in four days. How?

With a groan I walk to my bedroom, stripping along the way to wash off the plane ride. I’ll hit the shower then head over to the Fulton University campus to talk to coach and Levi and maybe even get that massage from one of the Athletic Departments techs. It won’t have the happy ending calling Shelly, the masseuse from the service I use in town, but it will do the trick.

I tell myself that I can’t decide if I want Stella to be there or not. I know the truth, though. It’s the reason I take an extra couple minutes to get ready. Like the spray of cologne and the washed hair is going to make her happier to see me somehow. Can’t blame a guy for trying I guess.

* * *

“Dagger! What’s up, man? I didn’t know you were coming this week.” Levi says standing from the bench extending his hand for me to take. The kid is stand up. He’s hell on the ice and he’s great off it. I look forward to playing with him next season. He’ll be a great addition to the team.

“That’s the point, Sexton. If I give you a warning, you’ll be ready and I can’t you getting into any shit.” I tell him slapping him on the back.

“Ha! Only thing you’ll ever catch me in is pussy.” Levi says, grinning.

“Nothing wrong with that.” Shrugging, I look around the empty locker room. “Where is everyone?”

“Mostly home for Christmas. I was just running drills with the few guys who haven’t left yet.” As the captain of the team, it’s his job to make sure nobody gets lazy. “About to go pick my dad up from the airport, you wanna ride?”

“Nah, I’m gonna go see coach really quick before I head out to Cambridge to see the fam. Where’s your dad?”

“Connecticut working on getting a pitcher. He’s got two prospects he’s looking at.” Levi says as he stuffs his gear in his locker.

“A pitcher? What about Stella?” I try to act casual, nobody knows about Stella and I spending that weekend together. Especially not Levi.

“Out for the season.”

“The whole season?” What the hell?

“Yup.” I’m staring at the top of his head as he ties his shoes, wanting to shake the information from him. It’s like pulling fucking teeth.

“Why?” My tone is clipped in frustration. Levi must pick up on it. He looks up at me puzzled.

“She’s knocked up. Big ol’ belly. It’s kinda hot.”

His grin grates my nerves even as I try to let what he said sink in. Stella is pregnant. Stella. Is. Pregnant.

“She drop out?” I manage to ask.

“Nah, she’s working in the treatment room to keep part of her scholarship and then someone said that she was also working at Ruma.” Ruma was an upscale restaurant, there were a few of them around the states.

“She’s working pregnant? Where the fuck is her boyfriend?” I can’t hide my disgust. This is not the trip home I was expecting. I thought I’d let Stella be pissed at me and I’d convince her to get over it and then lock her in my apartment again for the next few days.

“No boyfriend. In fact, in all the time I’ve known her I don’t think she’s ever had a boyfriend. Girl that fine should never be alone.” He tries to joke. When I don’t laugh he clears his throat. “Anyway, no boyfriend and she won’t say shit about who her baby daddy is.”

All of a sudden, my whole body goes solid with tension. Vertebrae by vertebrae, ice dances up my spine trying to do the math in my head but not being able to quiet the roar in my ears long enough.

Doing my best to swallow so I can speak I manage to croak out, “How pregnant is she?”

“I don’t know bro. Pregnant, pregnant.” Levi holds his hands in front of his stomach to indicate how far her belly is. Son of a bitch. “Shit. I’m gonna be late. My dad will kill me.”

“Go on. I’m going to see if Charlie has time for a massage.” I lie. I need to go find Stella.

“Maybe Cruz is down there. Ask for her. All the guys do. Perverts love a pregnant chick rubbing on them.” He shakes his head and laughs. “Like any of them wants any part of that.”

The muscle in my jaws begins ticking at the thought of those fuckers making her work them over while she’s pregnant. Or at all. I do my best to play along though

“Maybe. Get out of here. I’ll catch up with you later.”

Levi gives me a high five and then jogs out of the locker room leaving me alone to try to get my thoughts straight.

Fuck. Is Stella pregnant with my kid? Fuck.