Chapter 19
CHAPTER 19
STEPHANIE
Three months later…
H oly monkey mind…
It’s August again, one year since Tank first wandered into my studio with his scowl, his grunts, and his wounded heart, and changed my life forever. Like last year, I’m teaching at Badgers training camp. But everything else?
Everything else is completely different, including the fact that my brain feels like it’s full of a dozen rabid squirrels, all tugging my thoughts in different directions. I can’t remember the last time I had this much trouble calming my mind during a class.
But then, I’ve never had something like this hanging over my head while teaching, either.
A wonderful, miraculous, kind of scary something…
A life-changing something…
But we’re only twenty minutes into the Badgers’ third class of this year’s training camp, and Coach Lauder isn’t about to let anyone out a second before two p.m. He’s softened since last season—the fact that he’s dismissing the team at two, instead of five, on Fridays is a big shift in a chiller direction—but he’s still a hard ass who demands one-hundred percent focus from his players while they’re on the clock.
He expects the same from his staff, and he has a habit of popping into class to check on the rookies when I least expect it…
Forcing my thoughts back to the present moment, I say, “Remember to let the jaw soften. Keep the back of your neck long. Relax your shoulders. Warrior Two doesn’t live in your neck and shoulders. It’s in your hips, your legs… In your core as you pull the belly in and up, stabilizing the spine. Good. Nice adjustments.”
I move barefoot between mats as thirty-five sweaty hockey players hold Warrior Two, their focus already so much better than our first class on Monday. “Release tension in the places that don’t need to be working. Find effort where it’s needed. That’s a big part of the practice. Embrace that, and it’s going to pay off on the ice in increased endurance and faster reaction times.”
I adjust a new player’s form—Kindred, a transfer from Las Vegas who seems like a sweetheart—with gentle hands, suppressing a yawn as I move to the next student.
For the past few days, I’ve been exhausted.
I’ve been blaming it on the new puppy. Piggie the Pug is the sweetest baby brother to Mr. Sniffles, but he wakes up crying in his crate at least twice a night. I strongly suspect he’s going to end up in our bed eventually—no matter what Tank, Mr. Sniffles, or the dog trainer who insisted crate training would be best for him, has to say about it—but for now, we’re still trying to convince him solo sleeping isn’t a fate worse than death.
But I’m starting to think maybe sleep deprivation isn’t to blame.
Maybe it’s something else….
Something I’m almost scared to hope for, considering we’ve only been trying for two weeks. I’m pretty sure I was only in my fertile window for a day or two there, but sometimes a day or two is all it takes…
The thought makes my heart flutter and my focus shift to the back row, where my man is making yoga look easy.
And sexy.
His dark eyes lock with mine, and that familiar electricity sparks between us. It hasn’t faded a bit. If anything, it’s only grown stronger, more powerful, more essential. At this point, I don’t know what I’d do without him, and I hope I never have to find out.
As I guide the class back into their flow and on to the next postures, my focus remains divided. Part of me is locked in on my students, determined to do everything I can to help them progress in their practice.
The other part is thinking of how far Tank and I have come since this time last year. He’s changed so much. He still has resting grump face, a perpetual five o’clock shadow and that smartass sense of humor that makes me laugh, but at his core, he’s so much softer. More open, willing to let others in, to accept help when he needs it, and to believe he deserves good things.
Good things like a family with the woman he loves, even though I’m still not sure I want to get legally married. I already feel married to Tank. I don’t need a piece of paper from the government to make that real for me.
And I have excellent health insurance, at least as far as pregnancy care is concerned. I made sure to check before I even thought about removing my IUD, not wanting to end up in debt before the baby was even born.
The baby…
Our baby…
God, there’s a serious chance I might lose my mind before I get a chance to take any of the tests I grabbed at the pharmacy on my way to the arena.
But finally— finally —it’s time for our final posture of the class.
“Beautiful work. Now close your eyes,” I murmur, guiding the team fully into savasana. “Let everything go. Relax, release control of your breath, and allow your body to integrate all the work you’ve done today.”
As the players settle, I make my way around the room, adjusting a shoulder here, encouraging a tense player to relax his face, there. When I reach Tank, I don’t touch him—after three months of joining me for my morning classes four days a week, he has savasana on lock—but I pause beside his mat, anyway, allowing myself a second to soak him in.
My sexy man. My love. Maybe…the father of my child?
I can’t wait another minute to know.
As soon as the class ends and the players begin rolling up their mats, I catch Tank’s eye and nod subtly toward the door, my heart racing as I grab my duffel bag. He arches a brow but follows me out into the hallway as the others file toward the locker room to shower and take off for the weekend.
“Everything okay?” he asks when we’re alone, concern etched in the furrow of his brow.
“Yes. But I have something important I need to do, and I want you there with me.” I grab his hand, pulling him down the hall. “Come on, we can sneak into the family bathroom by the old equipment room.”
“Okay,” he says, his brow furrowing even as curiosity sparks in his dark eyes. “And what are we doing in the bathroom?”
“Well, I’m going to be peeing,” I say, speeding my pace. “And you’re going to turn your back until I’m done.”
He laughs as I drag him into the only bathroom in the cement-block section of this building and lock the door behind us, still looking bewildered as he asks, “Are you serious? Is this a fetish you’ve been keeping a secret from me, Teach?”
“No, it’s…” Trailing off, I reach into my bag and pull out the pregnancy test, holding it up between us with a rush of breath.
His eyes bulge and his smile falls away. “You’re serious? You think…”
I shrug. “I don’t know. I mean, it feels like it’s way too early for that to even be possible, and I’m not even due to start my period until tomorrow, but…” My voice trembles with a mixture of nerves and excitement, as I add, “I don’t know. I feel different. Tired and a little off and just…different. Like I’m not alone in here anymore. Is that crazy?”
“No. I mean, we have been fucking without protection like it’s our job.”
I bite my lip. “We have.”
His lips curve in a cautious smile. “So, yeah, it’s not crazy. Are you going to take it now?”
I nod, tearing the box open as I start for the toilet, my heart leaping into my throat. “Yep. Turn around.”
He arches a brow. “Seriously? I’ve had my tongue buried in your pussy and a thumb up your ass while you come and you’re shy about me watching you pee?”
“Yes. Turn around,” I command, unable to keep the laughter from my voice, as I add, “I’m serious Theodore. Peeing is private. And I’m nervous. Turn!”
He grunts, but turns to face the wall, crossing his arms over his chest. “Why are you nervous?” he asks over his shoulder. “You still feel ready to start a family, right?”
I drop my yoga pants and sit on the toilet. “Yes. It’s just…a big change. And a huge responsibility.” I follow the instructions, peeing on the stick, replacing the cap on the top, and then placing it on the edge of the sink, before I flush. When I’m decent again, I add, “Okay, you can turn around. We have to wait three minutes.”
I turn on the water, catching his gaze in the mirror as I wash my hands.
He looks nervous, too. But excited. And something else I can’t quite put my finger on…
“What are you thinking?” I ask.
“Parenting classes,” he says. “I should sign up for some. Do they have those around here?”
“I’m not sure,” I say, drying my hands and tossing the paper towel before turning to face him. “But there are lots of good books about parenting these days. We can read some together, if you want.”
He nods a little too fast. “Yeah. I would.”
“Why?” I ask in a softer voice. “Are you worried you won’t know what to do? Because I really think you will, babe. You’re such a great dog dad. Just a natural.”
He grunts.
“Yeah, I know a dog isn’t a kid, but caring is caring and nurturing is nurturing,” I say before adding in a drier tone, “So glad I speak grunt fluently at this point.”
His lips twitch, but the promised smile doesn’t form. “I just don’t want to fuck it up, Teach. I didn’t grow up with parents I could use as role models.”
“No,” I agree. “But you have my mom and dad now, and they adore you. I’m sure they’d be happy to give us advice any time we ask for it.” I arch a brow. “And probably when we don’t ask for it, too.”
“Your parents are great,” Tank says.
“I agree. Aside from pushing me a little too hard academically in the areas they thought were most important, I have no complaints,” I say. “Though I don’t want to repeat that pattern. I want our kid to feel free to honor their own unique purpose on the planet, even if that isn’t becoming a doctor or a lawyer or a hockey player or a yogi or…whatever.”
“Our kid,” he echoes, his gaze softening.
“Half you, half me,” I whisper, my heart swelling as I step in, bracing my hands on his chest. “God help the world.”
He exhales a soft laugh, the sound vibrating into my palms. “Nah, I think?—”
He cuts off as my phone timer chimes in the side pocket of my yoga pants.
We both freeze for a beat, before I grab the phone and quickly turn it off, my pulse rushing so fast, I suddenly feel dizzy.