Forever Pucked (Pucked 4)

“Of course it is. But babies change things, Violet. Priorities change.”

He has a point. “Okay. I can see that. Maybe she’ll decide to forgo the career and have enough children to start a hockey team.” I shudder at the possibility of shooting multiple kids out of my vagina.

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“Do you have any idea what happens to a vagina when a litter of babies are pushed out of it? I don’t want to end up with a baggy beaver.”

“You won’t end up with a baggy beaver from having a few kids.”

“A few?” He’s said something similar before. I want to know what constitutes a few. “As in more than two?”

“I kind of like the idea of a big family.” Alex skims the side of my boob with his fingertips.

I prop myself up on an arm so I can look him directly in the eye. “When you say big, what do you mean, exactly?”

Alex looks unsure of himself. “I don’t know. Four kids seems reasonable, maybe more.”

“Four?” If I sound incredulous, it’s because I am.

“You think that’s too many?”

“Uh, I’ll definitely have a baggy beaver if I push four kids out.”

“Things go back to normal.”

“No, they don’t.”

“Come on, Violet. It can’t really be that bad.”

“Is that you hypothesizing, since you can’t actually push a hockey puck out of your dick hole?”

Alex cringes, which I can understand. The image I’ve created is rather unappealing.

“You’re still tight like you were the first time we had sex, and we’ve been together for more than a year. You’d think if I was going to stretch things out, it would’ve happened already.”

He’s got a half-smug, half-horny smirk on his half-healed face.

“Yeah, but you’re comparing a beer can to a watermelon. It’s not the same thing. I can see after pushing one watermelon out, things might go back to mostly normal, and maybe you wouldn’t notice much beaver bagginess. But after three or four, things aren’t going to be the same.”

He gives me this look, like he thinks I’m being dramatic.

“Haven’t you seen that documentary with that female porn star who had all that anal sex? She had a nice, normal Area 51 until it wasn’t nice and normal anymore. Now it’s all loose and baggy, just like my beaver would be if I happened to pop out a hockey team’s worth of babies.”

“So you don’t want a big family?”

“I’m an only child, Alex. I think I turned out almost okay even though I never had a sibling until I was in my teens. I figure if I have two kids, they’ll drive each other nuts, and they won’t be lonely or have to deal with either one of us without backup when we’re old and crotchety.”

“What about compromising at three?”

“Odd numbers don’t work for me. I don’t like them. If your team number was odd, I think I might not have found you all that attractive.”

“My number is odd.”

“Not when you add it together.”

I’m being an asshole, but seriously. Alex is talking about what seems like a minimum of four kids. I’ll low-ball it to something more reasonable, like two, and if he gets more than that it’ll seem like a win for him.

Honestly, though, I can’t imagine the damage three babies will do to my body. I like my boobs. Alex loves my boobs. Three babies will turn them into empty sacks, according to all the horrible conversations I’ve overheard from women I work with. And babies interfere with sex. I don’t want to deal with that yet either.

“I don’t know why we’re talking babies when we don’t even have our wedding planned.”

Alex’s jaw tightens, and he retracts his arm from around me. Oh, shit. I’ve hurt his feelings. He seems like he’s about to get up and possibly leave the room.

“Which I think we should talk about,” I add.

He’s halfway into a sitting position. He drops back down on the pillow and eyes me warily. He looks uncertain. Afraid, even.

I sit up and face him, crossing my legs. “You’re going to have some time on your hands while you’re waiting for your shoulder to heal.”

He still looks unhappy.

“So I figure it’s probably a good idea to plan something for the summer, before you have to start hardcore pre-season training.”

He stares blankly at me.

“Unless you think you’re going to be too busy with physical therapy. I mean, then maybe we should just wait until the following off-season…” I poke at the hole in my sock until my middle toe peeks out.

“You want to get married this summer?” Alex sounds like he’s having a hard time believing it could be possible.

“You’ll have the time to help me plan it. I know I’m organized with numbers, but that’s really about the only thing. There won’t likely be another year where the timing will be on our side. We can make the best out of an unfortunate situation.” I peek up at him. He’s still frowning. “I thought you’d be excited about setting a date.”