“You may now use your cellular phones,” the stewardess announced as we taxied toward the terminal shortly after our flight had touched down in San Francisco.

“Any word yet?” Travis asked as I checked my texts.

Trent had sent one three hours ago. Congratulations, Daddy! Mother and daughter are doing fine.

I shut my eyes, positive I’d misread the message. I was tired. Clearly my brain wasn’t working at full capacity.

“Everyone,” Travis called out. “Josh’s girlfriend had a girl!”

Cheers and congratulations broke out from my teammates, coaching staff, and everyone else involved with the team.

Guess that made it official—I had a daughter.

The unexpected pride? If I hadn’t been sitting, it would’ve knocked me on my ass. Holly and I had been so focused on a son that didn’t exist, I hadn’t even considered how I would feel if we had a daughter.

“And because of that,” Travis added, “drinks tonight are on him…even if he won’t be there.”

That got snickers from my teammates.

“What were you thinking, man?” Mark asked, from across the aisle—the only HDF member with a boy. “Now we’ll have to watch more girlie kiddy shows.”

“Are you saying you’re not comfortable enough with your masculinity to survive?” I laughed and he flipped me the bird.

I had a billion questions I wanted to ask Trent, but given the text had been sent during the night, it meant he was probably at home, sleeping. So I held back on my Q&A and caught a cab to the hospital.

Where was my car?

Safe in my apartment garage. Travis had picked me up on the way to the arena when we flew out. Since it had been a long night for the team after being stuck for so long in Pittsburgh, I told him I’d just grab a cab.

“Don’t you play hockey for the Rock?” the cabbie asked as we sped toward the hospital.

“Yep.” I was too tired and too excited to deal with a fan, so I stared out the window, hoping he’d get the hint.

He didn’t.

“Great game last night.”

“Thanks.”

“My son isn’t going to believe that I’m driving Josh Hoffer. He’s a huge fan. He’s ten years old and hopes to play for the NHL one day.”

Him and thousands of other boys.

He went on and on about his son and asked tons of questions about playing for the NHL. Were you surprised I listened to him? Don’t be. Why? Because this was the kind of man I would’ve loved to have as my father when I’d been his kid’s age.

His son wasn’t just fulfilling the cabbie’s life-long dream of playing in the NHL. The dream was completely his son’s.

You had to respect a man like that.

At the hospital, I stepped off the elevator on the maternity floor—not bothering to wait until the door was fully open—and walked toward the nurse’s desk. A few people in the waiting room gave me a double glance—possibly wondering why I was wearing a suit. I ignored them and asked at the desk for Holly’s room.

Did you see that? The nurse’s expression? The wide eyes? The “O” shaped mouth?

Once she’d recovered enough to make a coherent sentence, she replied, “Are you a friend?”

“I’m her boyfriend.”

Rule #1 when it comes to social media and being an NHL player? Always be the first to post the information—that way you have a little more control over the situation.

The team’s publicist had mentioned that to me but I had brushed it off.

Now who felt like the dumbass?

The nurse told me which room Holly and my daughter were in, and I quietly slipped inside, doing my best not to wake them. Holly looked so peaceful, it was hard to believe she had given birth a few hours ago.

Without me.

I’d be lying if I said it didn’t bother me that I hadn’t been here for her. She didn’t blame me, but I still couldn’t shake the feeling I had failed her and our daughter.

After placing my luggage by the wall, I peered into the clear plastic bassinet by Holly’s bed. And smiled.

Looked like all the studying I had done on the Disney princesses would come in handy after all.

Go ahead and quiz me—I took my studies very seriously.

And gained the reputation in HDF of being unbeatable.

The prize?

Beer and chicken wings at Sean’s favorite sports bar. The sauce was the best freaking hot sauce on the planet.

The little princess in the bassinet stirred. I gently scooped her up, supporting her neck, and cradled her against me. Then I walked to the wooden rocking chair and sat.

She peered up at me and gave a little yawn…and my heart melted right there.

“Hi, I’m your daddy,” I said softly. “I’m the one who was singing to you while you were in Mommy’s belly. I’m so happy to finally meet you, little one. I’m the man who’s going to protect you and your mommy. And I’ll teach you how to keep all the dumbasses in line.” I cringed. “Oops. I wasn’t supposed to say that word. How ’bout we don’t tell Mommy?” I smiled down at the little bundle.

“How about Mummy forgets she heard you say it—just this once?” my favorite Aussie said and I looked up.