by Meghan Quinn
The hospital staff doesn’t seem to slow down as I walk past them, and I can’t help but remember what Adalyn told me when we were in New York. The stress of her job, the bad news she would have to hear the doctors deliver, the losses she experienced on a daily basis, how mentally tough her job was. I pray I’m not one of the loved ones a nurse has to see walk away, heartbroken and shattered.
When we reach the room, the doctor turns to me and says, “The only reason I’m letting you back here is because this is your baby, and because I know if you stay out there longer, people are going to start noticing you. For privacy, I’m allowing you to hide away, instead of being the talk of the waiting room.” He grips my shoulder and reaches for the handle.
I stop him and sincerely say, “You don’t know how much that means to me. Thank you, sir.”
“You’re welcome. And just so you know, we have a strict policy about patient confidentiality. You shouldn’t hear about this in the papers tomorrow.”
This guy and this hospital is getting one hell of a donation from me when this is all over, when Adalyn is back in my arms, healthy and smiling that beautiful smile once again.
The door opens to a dimly lit room, two beeping monitors flank the bed and in the middle, Adalyn lies silently on the bed. Her head is wrapped in gauze, her wrist is secured in white bandaging tape, and her face is swollen from small abrasions. But she’s alive.
From behind, the doctor closes the door. With a heavy heart and lead feet, I make my way to the side of the bed and pull up a chair. Taking her hand in mine, I stroke her knuckles and brush the side of her cheek, avoiding any scrapes, not wanting to hurt her.
“Jesus, baby. Look at you.” Tears spill out of my eyes. “Fuck, what I wouldn’t give to trade places with you right now, to take away all this pain and make you the healthy one.” Moving my hand to her belly where our baby grows, I lightly stroke the sheets covering her up. “This little one is so strong. This little guy.” I choke on a sob. “He’s strong just like you, not like his daddy who is a blubbering mess.” Bending my head, I press a kiss against her stomach. “So strong.”
Staring at her battered face where I can see bruises forming, I squeeze my eyes shut, hating seeing her like this. When you fall in love, you never consider moments like this, where you have to sit at your soulmate’s bedside, and hope and pray they come back to you, wondering if you’re going to be alone for the rest of your life, missing out on all the moments you could have shared with them.
I knew I couldn’t live without Adalyn, I realized that the moment I had to move away from her, but I never thought living without her meant she would leave this earth.
Resting my head on her hand, trying to give her every ounce of strength I have in me, I say, “When you wake up from this, Adalyn, I’m going to make sure you never have to suffer again. This is it, baby, this is it for us. From here on out, it’s you and me and the baby. No more dancing around, no more questions about our relationship, no more distance. I love you and will spend every minute until my dying day making sure you know that.” I lift my head and kiss her knuckles. “Just get better, baby, just come back to me. Please come back to me . . .”
I hang up my phone and lean back in my chair, my eyes never leaving Adalyn. The Quakes have given me all the time I need off to be with Adalyn and the baby, making sure they’re okay. What is unfair about my profession is no matter what, my decision will let someone down. My team, the fans, the front office. But my heart is in this hospital, and I’ll be damned if I leave without it.
I might have fibbed a bit and said Adalyn was my fiancée, but to hell if that’s not going to happen the minute she gets better. I’m proposing, I’m making everything right between us, and it starts with the beginning of the rest of our lives.
All last night, while holding Adalyn’s hand, I researched comas and pregnancy. Let’s just say, that was a bad idea. After a few terrifying articles, I put my phone away and talked to my son.
I told him all about my game, about the goals I scored, unsure of what to talk to him about. I told him about how one day, I’ll be just like my father, strapped down in pillows and a helmet, blocking his shots at the goal. I told him he’ll be so much better than I am at hockey, because not only will he have my talent, but he’ll have his mommy’s bravery. Over and over again, I kept telling him to hang in there, to keep growing and be healthy, because he’s going to want to see how beautiful his mommy is. He’s going to want to get to know her because she’s one hell of a catch.
And when sleep finally captured me, I never left Adalyn’s bedside. I held her hand the entire time, resting my head on the side of her bed, my other hand holding on to her stomach, trying to give my girl and son every last ounce of power inside me.
With a fresh cup of coffee in hand and a donut in the other—courtesy of Logan who told me to screw my diet—I watch over Adalyn, studying her beautiful features. I spoke to her mom on the phone this morning. The brigade is catching the earliest flights they can find to get out here. I offered to pay for them, but her mom graciously declined, telling me to keep my money for when I get to spoil our little guy.
My phone buzzes on my lap and I shove the rest of my donut in my mouth before answering it.
Racer: How is she?
Sighing, I text Racer back.
Hayden: Still out.
Racer: Fuck, I was hoping she would snap out of it last night. The baby?
Hayden: He’s still strong.
Racer: He?
My throat closes up on me while I type.
Hayden: Yeah, he.
Racer: Shit, congrats, man.
Hayden: Thank you. He’s going to make it through this.
She has to as well. There is no way I can do this without her. Raise our son by myself? No, I need her by my side, her laughing and teasing eyes playing with both of us. I need her challenges, her ribbing, her love. Fuck, do I need her love.
Racer: Keep thinking positively, man. Are you sure you don’t need me to come out there?
What I wouldn’t give to have Racer by my side right now, but I know he’s still climbing out of debt and his schedule is jam-packed with his new construction company. There is no way I could ask him to come.
I’m about to text him back when something out of the corner of my eye catches my attention. Looking up, I watch Adalyn intently, wondering if my eyes are playing tricks on me, and when I think maybe they are, I see it again. Her finger twitches.
My heart stutters, a sharp chill running up my spine when I see it again. Setting my phone to the side, I slip my hand into hers and the smallest of squeezes comes from her hand.
“Baby,” I cry. “Can you hear me? Adalyn, if you can hear me, squeeze my hand again.” I pause, waiting and waiting until . . .
Her finger presses against me, and I split apart. Wake up, beautiful. She twitches again, and I smile.
She’s going to be okay. My girl is going to be okay. At least I try to convince myself of that.
Resting my head on the bed, I dream. I dream of the day Adalyn and I welcome our baby boy into the world. I see it so clearly, her sweat-soaked hair in a ponytail, our little guy wrapped up in a blanket, pressed lovingly against Adalyn’s chest. My arm is wrapped around her shoulders, and we’re both looking at the human we created. It’s beautiful. The smells, the clarity of the image, the feel of Adalyn stroking the thin strands of my hair . . . it feels so goddamn real.
“Hey.”
“Hey,” I reply. Her voice soft but clear.
“Are you awake?”
“Of course,” I answer, wondering why she’s asking me . . .
I jolt my head up, knocking away a hand from the short strands of my hair. Blinking rapidly, I make eye contact with those big, beautiful eyes once again. And in that second, I can feel it. My heart re-starting, beating for an entire different reason. It’s beating for the woman in front of me.
Sitting up on her bed, I cup her cheeks gently and stroke her skin, almost in complete
shock that she’s awake.
“Adalyn.” I search her eyes, back and forth, studying the heaviness of her lids. “Baby, you’re awake.”
“Mmm,” she groans, placing her IV-covered hand on my arm. “You’re here.”
“Are you fucking kidding me? Of course I’m here.”
“But the game.” Her breaths are short. “I wasn’t—”
“Stop. That doesn’t matter; none of that matters. All I care about right now is that you’re talking to me. Fuck . . .” Emotion takes over as I lean forward and press the softest kiss across her lips. “Adalyn, I thought . . . I thought I lost you . . . before I could fully have you.”
Her eyes shut briefly and when they reopen, they are welling up in tears.
“Don’t cry, please don’t cry.” I wipe away the droplets of water that fall. I press my forehead against hers. “I don’t ever want to lose you again, Adalyn. Right here, this is what I want forever. You, the baby, and me. I love you, more than you will ever know.”
Taking a second, she catches her breath and says, “I love you, Hayden.”
Squeezing my eyes shut, a type of euphoria I’ve never experienced takes over my body, the type of euphoria I know a human can only experience once in a lifetime. Now is my time. For others, it might be when they meet their baby for the first time, or when they meet the love of their life for the first time. Not me, my time is right now.
“Goddamn it, I love you. I want you forever. No matter how hard it is, how difficult our lives might end up being with my profession, I want you to know, I will do everything in my power to make you happy, to make sure you’re loved, and never have to worry about being lonely again. Till my dying day, I promise you this, Adalyn.”
“Being with you will be all I need,” she answers, her lips brushing a whisper of a kiss across my mouth.
What I wouldn’t give to deepen that kiss, to let her know how serious I am, but I resist, not wanting to hurt her.
Sighing, I speak softly when I say, “The minute you’re better, I’m claiming your mouth, because from this day forward, Adalyn, you’re mine.”
Leaning her head back on the bed, her eyes flutter shut, sleep taking over as she whispers, “I’m yours, Hayden, forever.”
Forgetting all hospital protocol, I stretch my body across the small hospital bed and wrap my arm around her, bringing her against my chest, needing to be as close to her as possible. It’s not going to be an easy road for us, but I know, from here on out, as long as we’re together, we can get through anything.
Epilogue
HAYDEN
“I don’t know. The blue is really speaking to me.”
Giving Logan a very unhappy glare, he shrugs his shoulders and pats me on the back. “Sorry, man. We might get along now but my loyalty will always lie with Addie.”
“So much for dicks before chicks,” I mutter, causing Logan to laugh.
“Told you blue is the winner,” Adalyn gloats while doing a very pregnant version of the running man, her large pregnant belly hanging over her grey sweatpants. She’s in month nine and not giving a fuck about how much her belly is out in the open.
“Settle down there.” I motion her to slow her dancing. “We don’t need any water breaking when we don’t have the nursery ready yet.”
“Whose fault is that?” Adalyn taps her foot and eyes the two paint swatches on the wall. Red and blue.
“All of the baby books say babies can’t see any colors but black, white, and red. Why not give him a room he can enjoy?”
“Because black, white, and red are not baby colors,” Adalyn protests, hands on her hips.
“Says who? All the people who design all this baby crap? It’s a mass market for suckers like you two. Oh look at this cute sailboat, or this dinosaur blanket . . . it’s all about black, red, and white.”
“And how convenient, that those colors just happen to go well with your hockey-themed room.”
Casually, trying not to show my true colors, I say, “Hey, if it works out that way, it works out that way.”
“What happened to wanting to keep me happy, huh?” Adalyn taps her foot, staring me down.
Logan’s gaze bounces between the two of us for a split second before he shakes his head and says, “I’m out. You two are on your own.” Giving the peace sign, he points at me and says, “Tickets for tomorrow’s game?”
“In your fucking dreams after your betrayal.”
Logan deflates but not for long because Adalyn walks up to him, gives him a hug and says, “Don’t worry, I’ll get them for you.”
Betrayed, once again.
Ever since that awful fucking night in the hospital, Logan and I have been on good terms. We never spoke of our problems again. It was simply accepted we both love Adalyn and will do anything to keep her safe. And what’s even better about this entire situation is that Logan has a girlfriend now, Mandy, and she’s a good fucking time. They make for a good couple to hang out with. On off nights, we have them over with Chris and Shannon, to have game night. Adalyn and I lose to both couples every single time.
We keep blaming it on the baby, eating all of Adalyn’s brain cells. Once the baby is born, it’s game on.
Once Logan is gone, Adalyn turns toward me, her gaze intent. I’ve seen that look before. She’s determined, not going to back down, and ready for ten rounds of arguing. She’s about to get her way.
It’s what happened when she moved into my apartment. She insisted on dating first, I insisted upon not letting her out of my sight. I won that round. Then when it came to the house we bought, she won with what house she wanted, not wanting anything too outlandish. Apparently an elevator in your house is “too much.” I was voting for convenience. And now, with the nursery needing to be painted, I can see that look in her eyes.
This place is going to be blue.
Giving in before we can get into it, I say, “Can we at least agree upon on sailboats?”
“What is your beef with sailboats? They are a delightful nautical fixture.”
“We aren’t nautical people.”
“We could be,” she suggests, wrapping her arms around me, her belly bumping up against my stomach. “Want to buy a boat? Go sailing?”
“Not even a little.” I chuckle, placing a soft kiss on her lips. “What about robots.”
“What kind of message are we trying to send our kid if we decorate with robots?”
Brow pinches, mirth in my voice, I say, “Uh, I don’t know, that they’re cool. What kind of message is sailboats?”
Gesturing with her hand, she answers, “Come sail away with us, baby boy. Your dreams can reach as far as the ocean. Let your every dream set sail.”
“Jesus Christ,” I mutter, kissing her again. When I pull away, I whisper against her lips. “I’ll give you the blue, but not the boats.”
“Ugh, you hate me.”
Laughing hard, I shake my head and drag her to the white glider she picked out from Pottery Barn. “On the contrary, I’m absolutely obsessed with you.” I nuzzle her neck, kissing the soft column. “What about airplanes?”
She moves her neck to the side, giving me more access as my hands glide up over her stomach, to her full breasts. Pulling down the low cut of her tank top, I slip my hand into her bra and pinch her nipple, getting right to business. One thing I’ve learned from this pregnancy? Slow is not something she’s interested in at the moment. She likes it hard and fast, and fuck do I come hard every time when she screams my name, begging for me to thrust harder.
“Airplanes?” she gasps and leans her back against my chest. “Mmm, I can do airplanes.”
I slip my hand down the front of her sweatpants to find her wet already. “Fuck, Adalyn, why are you always ready for me?”
“Because, this is what you do to me, Hayden.” She circles her hips against me, holding on to my neck while I work my fingers between her legs.
“I need you on all fours, baby. Now.”
Helping her down, I take no time shedding o
ur clothes and pressing inside her. So tight, so warm, so damn perfect.
“Yes.” She arches her back, her ass pushing against me. “Yes,” she chants.
Leaning over her, I roll one of her nipples in my finger, tugging and pulling, knowing in seconds she’s going to combust.
Just like clockwork, while I fuck her hard from behind, my cock slipping and sliding in and out of her, her pussy convulses around my cock, pulling at me, dragging out my orgasm as hers takes over, spiraling both out of control.
I come hard, my dick pulsing, giving me sweet relief. Short and sweet, that’s what we are right now, and I know once she has the baby, I will spend more time exploring her body, making love to her over and over again. But right now, my girl wants to be fucked, and I give my girl what she wants.
Falling to the floor, I tuck her into my shoulder and stroke the side of her hip, marveling in the softest skin I’ve ever felt.
“I don’t care what you do with the nursery, Adalyn,” I admit, knowing she’s going to end up winning most of these fights.
She kisses my chest, her lips grazing past my nipple, sending a jolt straight to my dick. “I actually like airplanes. I think it’s sweet. Who knows, maybe one day he’ll be a fighter pilot.”
I shake my head. “Nah, with a name like Connor Holmes, he’s bound to be a hockey star.”
“The poor kid, he’s doomed from the beginning.”
Chuckling, I kiss the top of her head. “As long as he’s happy and you’re happy, then I’m happy.”
She kisses my chin and sighs, snuggling closely into me. “Good thing being married to you is all I ever needed to be happy.”
“Damn right it is, Mrs. Holmes.”
Lying on the floor of our son’s room, I stare at the ceiling and realize how good I have it. I have my beautiful, feisty girl in my arms and a wonderful future ahead of us. A crazy, chaotic, but fulfilling future.
And all it took was a few punches. One punch to an asshole during the last game of a season. One punch to my heart when I met and fell in love with the person who became my everything. And then the final punch to my soul when she became my wife to have and to hold from this day forward. My dad’s always told me we don’t solve problems with our fists. Wise advice, although I may not have solved problems, but because of that first punch, I won the most important game of my life, and she’s currently wrapped in my arms. Score one for the baby daddy.