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It was only four minutes long, but something about the tone of his deep voice must have soothed Juno because she settled as soon as it started and stayed quiet until it ended.
She’s all grown up, and she’s gorgeous. Still Megan’s best friend, and still too young for me. But gorgeous.
I nudge his knee with mine. “Hey. You know you’re more than a hockey player, right?” He looks up sharply, like my words have surprised him. “You’re a brother, a son, a friend, a human. You’ll still be all those things when you stop playing hockey.”
When I step into the kitchen, Evie looks up, and her mouth falls open. I’ve always appreciated the tradition of game-day suits—I like having a reason to dress up—but Evie’s expression makes it even more worth it.
I like making her happy. The next realization is a little more potent. I just like her. And no amount of mental gymnastics will talk me out of it.
An odd sensation washes over me, something I’ve never really felt before. It isn’t just attraction, though I do feel attracted to Evie. It feels more protective. Like I have extra reason to check the door locks. Or go upstairs and make sure all the windows are securely fastened in her bedroom.
Theo chuckles. “Way to make a move, Captain. Giving her your jersey. Classic.”
I haven’t felt a stronger sense of victory since we took the Calder Cup last season. Juno is asleep—in my arms. I did this. And it feels amazing.
“So just putting this out there. I’ll happily put Juno to sleep any time you need it.” She looks at me over her shoulder and grins. “Already so smitten.” Completely, I think, as I follow her into the living room. And not just with Juno.
Feeling that baby fall asleep in my arms tapped into something in my brain that I’ve never experienced before. Something primal. I don’t just want to date Evie, I want to protect her, take care of her. I’m talking fight her battles, kill the bad guys, rid the world of anything and anyone who might ever hurt her. And I want to do the same for Juno, which is the most foreign part of all.
An ache forms deep in my chest that I can't identify at first, but then it shifts and sharpens, and I recognize it for what it is. I want this. I want lazy mornings in bed with my wife, a kid tucked between us. I want to make coffee for someone as easily as I make it for myself. I want to talk about a baby laughing or rolling over for the first time. I want to be a dad.
Right now, there’s only one woman taking up space in my mind. And it’s Evie.
Maybe fatherhood is just a matter of paying attention, of noticing what your family needs, then stepping up to take care of that need. It’s being present. Invested. Willing.
I meant what I said. Some things really are worth waiting for, and I don’t doubt that about Evie. But something about that response doesn’t sit right with me. Because if I’m with Evie, it shouldn’t always be me waiting for her while she takes care of the baby. I’ll be taking care of the baby too.
“Dude, why do you keep buying her so much pink stuff?” Van asks. “Because she loves it,” Logan says. “That’s all the reason I need.”
