14. Ivy
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Ivy
My palms are sweating. I rub them down the sides of my shorts for the third time in two minutes, trying not to look like I’m seconds away from vomiting.
I am, though.
Nausea sits thick in my throat. Rhett is pacing like a caged lion, his bare feet scuffing the marble as he crosses the living room again. Hunter’s bouncing Chloe on his hip like she’s a shield against bad decisions.
None of us are doing well.
“It’s been a week,” I say, voice low but firm. “We have to tell her.”
Hunter groans. “Do we?”
“Yes.” I shoot him a pointed look. “Brooke’s getting suspicious. She keeps asking why I haven’t come back home. I can’t keep dodging her forever.”
“I don’t know…” Rhett stops mid-step, turns to face me. “You think she’s going to freak?”
“No,” I say, even though I’m not completely sure. “But hiding it is worse. She’s my best friend. And we need advice. She’s married to two of your teammates, for God’s sake. If anyone knows how to handle messy secrets and hockey politics, it’s Brooke.”
A tense silence stretches between us. Until there’s a knock at the door.
Hunter visibly flinches. “Oh, fuck.”
“Big baby,” I mutter, watching as he clutches Chloe like she’s a bulletproof vest.
“She’s for protection,” he argues, grinning despite himself. “Kiss me before you open the door?”
I roll my eyes but oblige, pressing a quick kiss to his mouth.
“Me too,” Rhett says from behind me, already moving closer. His kiss lingers longer. When I pull back, his eyes soften.
In the last few days, we’ve carved out something like a rhythm. Waking up at 3 a.m. for feedings, tag-teaming laundry and bottle sterilization, sneaking kisses in the kitchen while Chloe naps in her portable bassinet.
The late-night sex has been... unreal. Just last night, they bent me over the balcony railing, the city below, their hands on my hips, my body trembling between them.
I shake the memory away as I head for the door.
This is not the time to be horny. This is the time to confess a life-altering secret.
I open the door.
Brooke stands on the threshold, holding an iced coffee in one hand, hair pulled into a sleek bun, wearing a loose blouse and sandals that probably cost more than my rent used to. She opens her arms before I can speak, pulling me into a tight hug.
“Hey,” she says. “So... are we finally going to stop being cryptic, or what?”
I glance back at the guys.
She follows my gaze—and freezes when she sees Chloe in Hunter’s arms.
There’s a long pause. Her face doesn’t give much away. She takes a sip of her coffee, eyes narrowing slightly.
“I know that’s not your baby,” she says, looking at me.
“No,” I admit softly. “She’s not.”
Hunter clears his throat. “Uh... okay, so...”
“You’re doing the explaining,” I whisper to him out of the side of my mouth.
He steps forward. “Last week... we found her. She was left at our door. Her name’s Chloe. There was a letter from someone I—we—hooked up with. She said she couldn’t take care of her anymore.”
Brooke blinks. Then her gaze swings back to me.
“So when you told me the pediatrician recommendation was for one of Hunter’s cousins, you were lying?”
I wince. “Yeah. I’m sorry. I panicked.”
She’s quiet for a moment. Not angry, just… thinking.
Rhett, ever the fixer, steps in. “We wanted your advice. We don’t know what to do. Do we talk to the lawyer? Do we go to the team?”
Brooke exhales slowly, setting her coffee down on the entryway console as both men ramble rapidly. “Okay. First of all, take a breath. All of you.”
We do. Even Chloe, somehow, lets out a tiny sigh, like she’s absorbing our collective stress.
“You need a plan,” she continues. “But before that, let me ask you—does anyone on the team know yet?”
Hunter shakes his head. “No one.”
“Then listen to me,” Brooke says, stepping into the living room, now fully in strategist mode. “You tell the team first. Then the lawyer.”
“Wait, what?” Rhett frowns. “Wouldn’t it make more sense to go to the lawyer first? Cover ourselves legally?”
“Sure. If the lawyer wasn’t working for the organization,” she shoots back. “Landon Shaw might be the best, but he’s still their guy. What if he tells management before you have a chance to explain it yourself? Or worse—what if he assumes the worst and goes straight to PR?”
That thought clearly hadn’t occurred to either of them. Hunter swears under his breath, bouncing Chloe a little faster.
“I know it’s terrifying,” Brooke says gently.
“But remember what the team did for Daisy and Leo. Or me and Ace. When our secrets came out, and everyone assumed I’d slept with the whole roster just because Cam and Tanner were brothers?
The guys rallied. They made it clear I was family.
And that was scandalous. This is a baby.
This could happen to literally anyone on the goddamn team, so you need their support in case the higher-ups fuss.
That could happen again. You just need to get ahead of it. ”
Hunter groans. “This is going to be such a shitshow.”
“Probably,” Brooke says, smiling sympathetically. “But at least it won’t be a surprise shitshow.”
I move to the couch and sit down, reaching for Chloe, who’s blinking slowly like she might nod off again.
Brooke crouches beside me. “She’s beautiful,” she says quietly. “Nine months?”
“Yeah,” I say. “Golden brown curls. Big eyes. No idea if it’s Hunter’s or Rhett’s.”
Brooke studies her. “So you’re all just... figuring it out?”
“We’re trying,” I admit. “It’s been a lot. But it also... it doesn’t feel like a burden. She’s... I don’t know. She’s something else.”
“She’s already changed everything,” Hunter says, voice quieter now.
Brooke reaches out and squeezes his hand. “You guys will be okay. But if you want help navigating this with the team, I’ll stand by you.”
Rhett looks at her. “Thank you. Really.”
“I’ll talk to Daisy too,” she adds. “She’s got experience handling crisis PR from both sides. You’re not alone in this.”
I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding.
This is happening. We’re telling people. The secret’s out.
And somehow, that feels... good.
“Breakfast was great,” my best friend tells me.
Chloe’s tiny hand wraps around my pinky as she snoozes peacefully in her bouncer seat beside the breakfast nook. The morning sun spills in across the penthouse floor, golden and slow, over the marble tiles.
The apartment smells like brewed coffee, baby wipes, and a hint of whatever citrus detergent Rhett insists on using for Chloe’s clothes. Storm’s sprawled on the rug, tongue hanging out, eyes closed in perfect bliss.
He’s adjusted surprisingly well to this new chapter—protective of Chloe, tolerant of the crying, and completely loyal to me. He follows me from room to room like a bodyguard made of snuggles and dog breath.
Brooke leans back in one of the dining chairs, a coffee cup in hand, her long braid swinging over her shoulder as she eyes Chloe with something between amusement and awe.
“You’ve really turned into a mom, huh?” she says softly.
I laugh under my breath. “Feels like it. I mean, I haven’t even screamed into a pillow yet.”
She snorts. “That’s impressive. Skye projectile-vomited all over Leo’s conference notes once and I locked myself in the laundry room for twenty minutes.”
I grin. “Okay, maybe I’m still in the honeymoon phase.”
Brooke eyes Storm, then Chloe, then me. “You should bring her over sometime. Let her hang with the girls.”
My chest warms. “Really?”
“Of course. You’re family.”
I glance toward the kitchen where Rhett and Hunter are finishing off the stack of protein pancakes I made earlier, their plates nearly licked clean, their post-practice appetites bottomless as usual.
For the first time since Chloe arrived, they look like they can actually breathe. Like sharing this, confessing to Brooke, lifted a weight off their shoulders.
I didn’t realize how much it had been weighing on them. The secrecy. The fear of what it might mean. But seeing them now, I know this was the right move.
We clean up slowly, talking in easy rhythms, passing napkins and sipping coffee, pausing every few seconds to peek over at Chloe. Brooke helps me rinse out the bottles and stack them in the drying rack, humming something soft under her breath.
When it’s time for her to go, she glances at me. “Walk me down?”
I nod, grabbing my keys and sliding into my sandals.
She presses a kiss to Chloe’s cheek and gives the guys a quick wave. “Take care of the girls.”
“She’s in good hands,” Rhett says. “They both are.” And then he winks at me.
I wink back and pull the door shut behind us, the latch clicking quietly. The hallway smells faintly like someone’s breakfast. We head for the elevator.
The second the doors close, Brooke slaps my arm.
“What the hell, Ivy?”
I wince. “Ouch. What?”
“You kept all of this from me?”
I stifle a laugh. “I was going to tell you?—”
She narrows her eyes, but she’s smiling now. “You’ve been living like some secret hockey housewife and I had no idea. That’s not just hiding tea. That’s full-on espionage.”
“I was protecting you from the mess.”
“I’m your best friend. I live for the mess.”
That makes me laugh, soft and breathless. “Well, now you know. And thank you. For not freaking out. Or judging them.”
She softens. “I’d never. They’re clearly trying. And you love that baby.”
“I do.”
We step out of the elevator and into the cool marble of the building’s lobby. The morning crowd is thinning, residents filtering out for their days. Suits and gym gear and earbuds everywhere.
And then… him.
Landon.
Coming in from the parking garage entrance, a manila folder tucked under one arm and phone to his ear. He’s dressed in another perfectly tailored suit—dark navy, crisp collar, no tie today—and his silver hair is swept back like he just stepped off the set of a courtroom TV show.
I recognize the scent first. Sandalwood and something spiced. Subtle but unmistakable.
He looks up and sees us. His jaw tightens. The phone slips into his pocket.
“Hey,” I say awkwardly.
He doesn’t stop. Doesn’t even pause. Just gives a curt nod and enters the elevator we just left.
Brooke stares after him. “Who the hell is that?”
I sigh. “Our neighbor.”
“He’s kind of hot.”
“Yeah. But he’s also the team lawyer.”
Her head swivels toward me so fast I’m surprised her braid doesn’t knock me out. “You live next to Landon Shaw?”
“Well, I should probably also tell you about the car thing.”
“What car thing?”
“I maybe scratched his… Audi. And he maybe hates me now.”
Brooke stares at me like I’ve grown a second head. “How many secrets are you sitting on, girl?”
“Apparently more than I thought.”
She grabs her phone from her purse, shaking her head. “I need to start journaling this shit.”
I chuckle under my breath as we say goodbye, promising to talk soon. I watch her leave the building, her figure growing smaller through the glass doors.
Things don’t feel as heavy now. It’s still complicated, still uncertain—but it’s not unbearable. Not when I have her. And not when I have them.
When I get back upstairs, Storm greets me with a wagging tail and sleepy eyes. Chloe is still napping peacefully.
Rhett is already moving through the kitchen, sorting through containers, probably looking for more protein. Hunter’s stretched out on the couch, scrolling through his phone, one hand resting gently on Chloe’s bouncer.
This is my life now. Somehow, impossibly… it fits.