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Those Three Little Words (The Vancouver Agitators, #2)(32)

Author:Meghan Quinn

“Eli . . .”

“Before you say no,” he quickly says, “just hear me out, okay?” Sighing, I lean back on the couch now and nod. “This isn’t just about helping you, which of course is one of the main reasons for doing this, but I also want to experience everything with you. I’m not carrying the baby, but at least I can be present, as present as my schedule will allow. I can be there when the baby kicks, they can learn my voice, and I can be there while they grow.”

“And what happens when the baby is born? You can’t possibly think we’ll continue to live together.”

“No, but I can always find a place closer, or we can both find apartments that are situated next to each other.”

I let out a large guffaw. “Eli, your budget for an apartment is much different than mine.”

“I’ll help pay for it. Hell, I’ll buy you a place. I don’t care—”

“I don’t want your money.”

“Then it’s something we’ll figure out when the time comes closer, but for now, please just let me be a part of this.”

Those imploring eyes nearly cut me in half.

“This is a one-bedroom apartment, Eli.”

“This couch is comfortable,” he says, patting the back of it. “I don’t care where I sleep. None of that matters. All that I care about is being supportive to you and making sure I’m a part of this baby’s life.”

His eyes plead with me, and I swear, if I look closely, I can see them turning glossy, as he holds his breath, waiting for an answer.

How on earth could I possibly say no to him? To the hope that’s pulsing through him. To the desperation he obviously feels.

I can’t.

And I don’t want to.

“Okay,” I say.

“Okay?” he asks, sitting taller.

I nod. “Yeah, you can stay here. But you don’t have to sleep on the couch. I have a king-sized bed. I don’t mind sharing a bed with the obvious knowledge that nothing is going to happen.”

He smirks. “Trust me, I learned my lesson the first time.” He grips his jaw. “Your brother has a mean right hook.”

I chuckle. “I wish I could say you’re the first guy he’s used it on when standing up for me, but you’re not.”

“I can only imagine what it was like growing up with him.” He relaxes slightly. “I don’t mind sleeping on the couch.”

“I do,” I say. “You need a good night’s sleep, and I can’t imagine what the team . . . and fans, for that matter, would think if you were sleeping on a couch. Hockey comes first.”

He shakes his head. “That’s where you’re wrong, Penny. Hockey doesn’t come first. You and this baby do.” He scoots in closer and is about to take my hand when he thinks better of it. Instead, he laces his fingers together again. “There will be times when I don’t have a choice other than to put hockey before you because of my obligations to the team, but just know, that isn’t my choice. You and the baby are now more important than any of that.”

“Eli, I’d never take you away from the sport. I grew up with a brother playing hockey. I’ve dated hockey players before, so I know the commitment that’s needed at this level, and I’d never, ever hold that against you.”

“I know you wouldn’t.”

“So, where do we go from here?”

He looks around my apartment, taking it all in, and then turns back to me. “Care to give me a tour?”

I smile softly. “I’d love to.”

Chapter Eight

ELI

“How was last night?” Posey asks as he takes a seat next to me at our lockers.

The locker room is almost empty. Besides a few guys coming in and out from the training room, Posey and I are pretty much alone.

“Painful but it ended well,” I answer. Before every game day, I come in an hour early before our morning skate, just to get my head on right, chat with the boys, and mentally prepare for the night ahead of us.

Today is no exception.

“So what happened?”

Stick in hand, I start taping it, carefully preparing it for tonight. I always start on the butt end, making sure the grip up top is to my liking.

“I moved in.”

“You . . . you what?” Posey asks.

After everything that happened yesterday in Penny’s office, Posey almost looked more shell-shocked than me. He took off once he felt like Pacey wasn’t going to be a threat anymore—not that I’d need the help, but I understood his concern—and when he got back to his place, he texted me to see how I was doing. I shot him a quick reply, telling him I was sorting things out, but kept it at that.

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