31. Karla
KARLA
Riding the elevator up to Gavin Hayes’ penthouse was more than just a little nerve-racking—it was a full-body, sweat-through-your-shirt type of nerves. And after a twelve-hour nursing shift, my emotions were like a raw wound being flicked repeatedly.
It wasn’t that I was intimidated by Gavin himself.
It was the fact that I was about to walk into a party full of professional athletes—loud, gorgeous, giant men, most of them probably drunker than they realized—along with their glamorous girlfriends who likely didn’t drag themselves through the ER wearing compression socks and a ponytail that looked like a toddler had assembled it.
I checked my reflection in the mirrored wall.
My face was a little washed out from fluorescent nurse-lighting, my hair was doing whatever the hell it wanted, and I was pretty sure my mascara was surviving solely through stubbornness.
But after finding out I was pregnant, something inside me had shifted.
A softness. A steadiness. A “hell, I am creating a human, I can do anything” kind of vibe.
Still—stepping into the penthouse felt like walking into a lion’s den full of overpaid, well-groomed lions.
The elevator dinged, and as soon as the doors slid open, heat, chatter, and music spilled out. The penthouse was huge—wall-to-wall windows overlooking the city, all glittery and alive. People filled the space, laughing, shouting over music, clinking glasses.
I barely got three steps in before I felt it—eyes on me. Not judgmental. Curious. Appraising.
Then a familiar whirlwind of warmth collided with me.
Brayden scooped me into his arms, lifting me slightly off the ground before pressing a quick kiss to my lips. His scent—clean soap, spice, and a trace of ice rink—flooded my senses.
“Hey, you.” His voice melted every last bit of anxiety I’d been holding. “How was your shift?”
I laced my fingers with his, letting him tug me into the party like I belonged there. “Nothing too crazy, nothing to write home about.”
He leaned in slightly, brushing his thumb along the back of my hand—subtle, grounding. The little things he did were starting to feel like they weren’t just affection… but family.
He guided me through the crowd toward the wet bar, where a woman with an adorable pixie haircut and a personality that sparkled brighter than the city skyline tossed a bar napkin in front of me.
“What’ll it be, sweetie?” she asked, flashing a grin that could probably broker peace treaties.
“Just a ginger ale, please.” I hollered over the thumping bass.
“Coming right up.” She cracked open a Canada Dry and poured it over ice. “Here you go. I’m Jordan, by the way.”
I reached across the bar to shake her hand. “I’m Karla. It’s so nice to meet you.”
Brayden, meanwhile, had already struck up a conversation with a guy next to him—tall, stylish, and definitely someone who moisturized.
“Babe,” Brayden said, turning back toward me. “I want you to meet Simon.”
He leaned aside so I could see Myla’s best friend. “Simon,” I said, squeezing his hand. “I have been dying to meet you for a while now.”
Simon lifted my hand to his lips and kissed it theatrically. “You are even more stunning than Myla told me. It’s such a pleasure.”
I laughed. There was something instantly comforting about him—the kind of person you could gossip with for hours without once checking the time.
We chatted for a while—Brayden, Simon, and me—and every so often one of the guys wandered over, and Brayden proudly introduced me. The way he lit up each time, like he couldn’t wait for me to know every piece of his world, made my chest swell.
This was our life now.
Our future.
Our baby’s future.
Gavin eventually made his way over, snagging a whiskey ginger from Jordan. He slapped Brayden on the shoulder like they were brothers instead of teammates constantly chirping one another. “Hey, man. Aren’t you going to introduce me to your lady?”
Without hesitation, Brayden turned, arm warm around my waist. “Karla, may I present to you the Gavin Hayes.”
Gavin gave me a half hug before taking a sip. “Thanks for coming tonight.”
“Of course! It’s great to finally meet you. Brayden has told me so much about you.”
I shot Bray a look when he squeezed my knee under the bar—gentle, possessive, protective.
“I’m sure he has,” Gavin chuckled. “I’m not as big of a douche as he claims I am.”
Bray elbowed him. “Oh, come on now, Hayes, you know I don’t lie.”
“Ouch,” Gavin said. His gaze flicked toward the front door—and his entire expression switched from relaxed captain-of-the-team to someone who’d just seen a ghost.
A woman with long blonde hair and makeup thick enough to qualify as stage paint stood frozen near the entryway, looking lost.
“Excuse me,” Gavin muttered before beelining straight for her, ushering her into the hallway.
The shift in the room was immediate. Conversations dipped. Heads turned. Jordan’s pouring slowed to a crawl. Even the music felt quieter.
“I must be missing the punch line,” I murmured.
Simon leaned in. “You took the words right out of my mouth.”
Jordan whispered, “That was Gavin’s ex-fiancée. She left him at the altar years ago.”
Simon and I gasped in perfect unison.
I tapped my lips. “You know, I think I saw something about that on the news.”
“Saw what?” Brayden asked, returning to wrap his arms around my middle.
“That was Gavin’s ex, Marsheila,” Jordan supplied unapologetically.
Brayden stiffened. “I should go out there.”
I squeezed his hands. “You need to let them handle this. Gavin and Myla are fine.”
Jordan poured him another drink. “Listen to your woman. Gavin will take care of that wretched bitch as fast as he can.”
I didn’t get time to ask what made her so “wretched,” because Gavin and Myla reappeared a moment later, hand in hand, like nothing had happened—Myla looking adorable and sloppy, clearly approaching blackout-level birthday joy.
She launched herself into a hug with me. “I’m so excited you’re here!” She kissed my cheek. “Do you like my eyes?” She batted them dramatically.
“You look marvelous, darling.” I grinned—she was definitely two sheets to the wind.
“Can you believe he kept this whole thing a secret?” she asked, dragging Brayden into her side.
Brayden smirked, glancing at me. “Hey, I can keep a secret when I need to.” He raised his eyebrow at me, and I had to smother a smile. If only she knew.
“Babe!” Myla called out, and Gavin swooped in like he’d been summoned.
“My lady?” Gavin said, reaching for her hand. God, they were disgustingly adorable.
“Have you met Brayden’s girlfriend? Isn’t she pretty?”
It was my first time hearing someone call me Brayden’s girlfriend. The words wrapped around me like a warm blanket.
“I have,” Gavin remarked. “And yes, she is very pretty.”
Before I could respond, a familiar face caught my attention across the room—a tall, kind-eyed man mid-conversation with a redhead who looked like she could model perfume ads.
I shot up from the barstool.
“Excuse me?” I interrupted gently.
His head whipped toward me—and then his entire face lit up.
“Karla? Oh my God!” He wrapped me in a hug.
“Sean Whistler, as I live and breathe. How the heck do you know these guys?”
Before he could answer, Brayden joined us, sliding a hand to my hip. “Trying to get fresh with my girl?” he joked, slapping Sean’s shoulder.
I elbowed him lightly. “Remember the cop I told you helped me with all the crap with my ex?” Brayden nodded in responce. “Well, meet my knight in shining blue.”
Brayden shook his hand, voice thick with gratitude. “Thank you.”
Sean blushed. “I was just doing my job. I’m glad I could help.”
He gently tugged the redhead closer. “This is my partner now—Jessica McBee.”
Brayden stepped back, brow furrowing. “Wait.” He tapped his lip. “This is crazy.”
“What?” I demanded, poking him.
“Sean was one of the first responders in Myla’s accident, and you were her nurse. Right around the same time he was helping you with your ex.”
Myla’s eyes shimmered. “I can’t believe all this.”
Gavin pulled her tighter, grinning. “Wow. The world really is small.”
“Serendipity at its finest,” I added.
“For fucking sure.” Brayden gave me a sweet little peck on the lips—quick, but full of meaning.
The rest of the evening rolled on—Jordan nearly lit her bar rag on fire doing a trick, Simon made me laugh so hard I got hiccups, and the city lights glowed like we were floating above the world.
Eventually, the hoard wound down, and Brayden helped wipe counters while Jordan packed up bottles.
“You want more ginger ale?” she asked.
“Only a little. I have to drive,” I teased.
Jordan snort-laughed. “You’re funny.” She called to Brayden, “I like her. Keep her around.”
He smirked. “That’s the plan—as long as she’ll have me.”
Gavin appeared again, looking serious. “Brayden, can I have a minute?”
Brayden shot me a look. I nodded.
He disappeared onto the balcony. Through the glass, I watched him pace, run a hand through his hair, then stop—listening. Listening hard.
Simon leaned in. “What is going on out there?”
Jordan crossed her arms. “Don’t look at me. If Gavin hasn’t spilled it to me already, it’s something big.”
Finally, Brayden and Gavin did that manly half-hug thing and came back inside.
“Ready to head out?” Brayden asked casually.
I grabbed my coat. “Sure. Everything okay?”
“I’ll tell you later,” he muttered, helping me with my coat.
Once we were downstairs waiting for the cab, he wrapped his arms around me from behind, chin on my shoulder. “How’re you feeling?”
“Other than dying to know what happened on that balcony? Perfectly fine.” My hand landed on my stomach, thankful to be telling the truth about feeling all right.
He spun me so I faced him, eyes bright with something… hopeful. “Gavin is going to ask Myla to marry him.”
I gasped. “That is incredible!”
He blinked. “You think so?”
“Just because I don’t want to get married doesn’t mean other couples shouldn’t.”
A slow smile spread across his face. “Have I ever told you how incredible you are?”
The cab pulled up, headlights cutting through the chilly air.
“Within the last twenty-four hours?” I teased. “I think you’ve told me only a hundred times. You’re slacking, Cox.”
He laughed, kissed my forehead, and helped me inside—his hand on my lower back, protective, tender, already acting like the father he was about to become.