Awk-Weird (Ice Knights, #2)(44)

When the message stopped playing, he just stared up at the hotel-room ceiling. He didn’t give a shit about the kitten peeing in his bed. All he cared about was the fact that she was one, having to deal with her jackhole of a landlord by herself—not that she wasn’t capable, but he was a team player and she was on his team—and two, that she still wanted to leave. Both gave him heartburn. One had him grinding his teeth together in frustration.

…

Tess stared at the new voicemail icon, her stomach doing an oh-fuck gurgling thing. Up until now, each time the notification popped up, she’d hit play with a stupid grin on her face. Now? It was like touching a radioactive tuna-fish can. She’d been ignoring the notification all day. Still, whatever he said couldn’t be worse than the scream fest followed by a put your things in a bag you’re leaving immediately after she’d cleaned her cousin’s goldfish tank and then had added untreated tap water to the bowl, not realizing the harm she was doing, and had killed Fishy.

Tess held her breath, sat in her parked car in the driveway of Cole’s house, turned down the live broadcast of the Ice Knights game on the radio, and hit play.

“I’m going to pretend I never heard that the evilest cat to ever evil peed on my bed.” Cole’s voice played over her car speakers, filling it with his warmth instead of the censure she’d been expecting. “As for the apartment situation, I was serious about you staying as long as you want. It’s no big deal. Plenty of space.”

No. Big. Deal. She was trying to process that when she realized her cheeks were wet, which was really bizarre because she wasn’t a crier—happy or otherwise. Stupid hormones.

“We’re leaving for Denver right after the game. Did you know it’s one of the few cities with seven professional sports teams? That’s the kind of knowledge I would bring to a trivia team.”

As Cole continued, she could practically see him pacing as he went. He’d probably been fully dressed when he’d left the message, but for some reason in her mind, he was pacing around with only a towel slung around his hips, his hair still wet from a shower, and that towel wasn’t going to stay in place for long.

From crying to mental Cole porn in thirty seconds—hormones, you need to calm the fuck down.

“You can count on me for that kind of information along with Latin translations, baking tips, and military history,” Cole said. “Oh yeah, and world geography. Really, you should think about it. Maybe we can give it a try when I get back. See how many points we can rack up. And just out of curiosity, are you going to pick up the phone at all or are we just voicemailing it while I’m gone?”

Fuck. She’d been hoping he hadn’t noticed that. Time to fess up or keep dodging?

…

Cole popped his AirPods in, somewhat blocking out the cheers and fuck yeahs of his teammates celebrating a comeback win against the Wolves. He’d been having a decent game and then when everything was looking like a done deal, Coach had called out for his new plays. It had felt like skating through molasses with a hot pepper stuffed up one nostril. The rest of the team had risen, and he’d slumped. The stink eye Coach had given him? Totally deserved.

He hit play on the voicemail Tess had left during the game.

“Voicemailing could be our thing…uh…crap… Okay, that sounded less weird in my head, which should have been a clue that it was going to sound awkward as hell in real life.” Her chipper voice plowed forward, each word coming practically on top of the other. “We don’t need a thing, since we’re not really a we, but if we were, this could be it and… Oh my God.”

While she took in an audible breath and let it out, so did he, but Cole was probably doing it for a different reason as he slunk back against the team jet’s seat. They weren’t a we. She was right. Still, it annoyed him, which was stupid because it wasn’t like he was looking for Tess to be part of his we. He’d always figured that would be Marti. She was the other half of his we; it was just all jumbled right now with her because they were in a down cycle. It always went up again. Was there something wrong with being a we with him?

“Okay, did you know that some guy tinkering around with military and aircraft equipment in 1949 is the father of modern ultrasounds and that at nine weeks, a fetus is the size of a grape? So that’s what I’ll be seeing on Friday. If you wanted to come, you could, and then we could check out the pub trivia at Marino’s Bar and Grill. I mean, you’ll be back by then but no pressure. So yeah. That’s all I got. Bye.”

Cole stared at his phone, nothing but white noise in his ears. Ultrasound? There was real and then there was going-to-have-an-ultrasound real.

He was having a baby.

…

Tess was noshing on a BLT on rye when she finally had five minutes in the shop alone to listen to Cole’s message after her mad dash to Forever in Bloom when she woke up in the cold-sweat panic of missing her alarm clock. Well, “alone” was relative. Kahn was currently purring his fuzzy little ass off in an attempt to get another bite of bacon. She hit play on the message he must have left in the wee hours of the morning.

“Hell yes I want to go to the appointment tomorrow.” The genuine enthusiasm in his voice made her heart do the cha-cha slide. “A grape? Really? That’s so small. And if you’re up for trivia after, Marino’s sounds great. Text me the doctor’s address and I’ll meet you there. Speaking of texting, did you know the first text said ‘Merry Christmas’? And I have no clue where to go from that. All I know is that I’ve left more voicemails for you than anyone else ever. There’s a factoid for you. See you tomorrow.”