Winger (Seattle Sharks 3)

She shifted her weight, rolling her eyes toward the ceiling. “You’re going to pretend like you don’t know what this is about?”

My head snapped back like she’d hit me.

I narrowed my gaze, sliding as close as possible to the half-wall that separated us. I towered over her so much she had to arch her neck to meet my eyes. Hers were a molten blue, churning with heat and a hint of anger.

What the fuck?

“Rory and Gage didn’t tell me,” I said. “So, how was I supposed to know?” I shook my head. “And besides, why does it matter?”

She gaped at me.

“I left you a message.”

I furrowed my brow. “My cell broke the first day over there. I lost everything.” I sighed. “But you’re a free woman, Jeannine,” I continued. “You didn’t need to call and ask my permission to sleep with other people.”

I would’ve told her not to.

That realization was even more evident now that I’d set eyes on her again.

Heard that fire in her voice.

Seen the spark in her eyes.

This woman…fuck, I would’ve loved to explore more with her.

Now it is too late.

Her eyes darted over every inch of my face like she was looking for a sign.

After a few seconds, another dark laugh flew from her lips, and she swiped under her eyes.

“Perfect,” she said. “Fucking perfect,” she muttered under her breath.

Something colder than the ice I stood on snaked into my veins.

Her tone was too devastated, too scared.

“Are you in trouble, Jeannine?” I almost growled.

What if the father of her baby was a shit guy pulling an up and run?

“Because if you need help, I’m here.” My fingers flexed on the stick. “I’ll do whatever you need, just tell me.”

Holy shit that’s true.

She could ask me to maul the guy right now, and I wouldn’t hesitate.

Who am I?

Acting a shit ton like Gage and Rory, that’s who.

I had no claim to this woman and yet everything inside me was dying to help her, soothe her, fuck her.

What the hell is wrong with you? She’s pregnant!

She was my friend before—I’m allowed to react this way over a friend in need.

Even if all my hopes were killed at another shot with her.

Something softened in her eyes, and her shoulders dropped.

“I’m six months pregnant, Warren.”

“So,” I said too fast. “It’s never too late to ask for help. And if you’re in trouble, I want to be the one who—” My throat closed, choking off my words. Heart racing, I looked from her belly to her eyes and back again.

“Six months?” I coughed out.

She popped a hand on her hip and nodded.

“You’re not saying…”

It couldn’t be.

Fuck, we skipped the condom.

“Birth control,” I whispered, unable to form a sentence.

She snorted. “Yeah, that tiny percent chance?” she shook her head. “Someone up there was desperate for there to be another Shark in the world.”

My eyes widened as warmth slicked over my skin.

Mine.

I gazed at the curve of her stomach.

Mine.

The blue of her eyes.

Mine.

Without warning, the warmth shifted to flames, and I slammed my stick on the ice.

“Six months!” I snapped. “You’ve known for six months and didn’t think I’d want to know?”

“I left you a message,” she fired back.

“A message? Are you fucking kidding me, Nine?”

“I…” she sighed. “I thought you didn’t care.”

“What?”

“We knew what we were doing,” she said. “Neither of us want…wanted this.” She rubbed her hand over her stomach, and my knees about damn near buckled.

“You should’ve tried harder.”

“And what were you going to do, Warren?” She glared at me. “Huh? Skip the Olympics?”

“Yes!” I shucked my gloves and raked my fingers through my sweat drenched hair. “I missed an entire season, but I would’ve rushed home right after the games! I would’ve taken care of you!”

“I don’t need anyone to take care of me!”

The truth in her words hit me like a fucking shot to the gut. So much so I skated back a few feet like the woman could slay me where I stood with just a single look.

This is a courtesy.

She doesn’t want me to be in her life.

Our baby’s life.

Acid raged hard and sharp, stinging every cell in my body.

“Then why the hell are you here?” The words were out of my mouth before I could stop them.

She gasped, her perfect pink lips popping into an O shape. She wetted them before setting me with another glare. “You deserved to know.” She shook her head, turned on her boots, and walked away.

The sight of it carved something out of my chest, leaving me cold.

“I deserved to know months ago!” I shouted, unable to control the adrenaline racing through my veins as she exited the rink.

Mine.

I don’t remember how I wound up in the locker room.

Or how I managed to crack the wood boards of my locker until I felt the skin on my knuckles split.

Rory and Gage were showered and dressed, waiting for me with guilt covered faces.

I bounded over to them, but neither flinch

ed. Both stood their ground, prepared to help siphon off the anger if I needed it.

That alone was enough to make me see clearer.

“How could you two not tell me?”

“We didn’t know,” Gage said, looking at Rory then back at me. “We haven’t seen her.”

“She’s never at the restaurant when we eat there,” Rory said. “Now that Paige told me, I realize she did it on purpose.”

“Bailey, too,” Gage said. “She always went over to Nine’s place, never her over at ours.”

“They didn’t want us to know because Jeannine wanted to keep it her business.”

I sank onto the bench, my head hanging between my shoulders.

Father.

I’m going to be a father.

“She doesn’t want me in her life,” I said, and I hated how damn defeated I sounded.

“What?” Gage snapped.

I shrugged.

“Did she say that?” Rory asked, surprisingly the calmest one in this room for once.

“She didn’t try harder.” I fisted my fingers. “She left one message. One. Does that sound like a person who wants help raising a child you created together?”

Fuck. We made a baby.

“Did she say she didn’t want you in her life?” Gage asked.

“She said she didn’t need anyone to take care of her.”

Gage huffed and dropped down next to me. “Well, of course, she doesn’t,” he said, almost laughing but too smart to pull that shit right now. “She’s Jeannine. The wildest one in our group of fiery girls. She’d never admit to needing help. That’s why she kept it from us, too.” The hint of anger in his voice made sense when I glanced at him.

She had kept it from them.

Even when they were all practically family after they married her best friends.

“Look,” Rory said. “I don’t know why she didn’t try to call every day. Or why she didn’t at least tell us—”

“She knew we’d tell him,” Gage interrupted.

Rory nodded. They were my best friends. They’d never leave me in the dark about something so huge, regardless of her asking them to keep it secret. I had a right to know. I should’ve known.

“But,” Rory continued. “It probably doesn’t help that she knows you.”

“Thanks, I feel loads better.” I rolled my eyes.

“No, man, hear me out.” He sighed. “You’ve never been shy about telling people who your first love is.”