Chapter 40
Chapter Forty
DECLAN
The day’s a blur of prep: morning skate, video meetings, media.
Everyone’s already talking about the Final, about rest versus rhythm, but my head’s not in it.
Not really. I keep thinking about Charlotte.
She’s been quiet all day, no texts since this morning, and the last several times I’ve seen her, she looked pale, tired. Off.
As soon as we wrap the last meeting, I swing by her favorite takeout place. It gives me something to do with my hands, something that feels normal. The drive over is short, but it feels like forever.
When I get to her place, I sit in the truck for a second, palms on the steering wheel, heart beating harder than it should. I don’t even know what’s waiting on the other side of that door.
Just that something’s wrong, and I need to be here for her.
I knock once. She takes a few seconds to answer.
When the latch clicks, I catch the faint sound of her breath—a shaky exhale, like she had to pull herself together before opening the door.
The door opens, and my chest tightens. Her eyes are red, her voice small. She looks like she’s been crying.
My gut twists hard, the way it does before a hit you don’t see coming. I don’t even realize I’m gripping the takeout bag too hard until it crinkles in my hand.
“Hey,” I say quietly, every word careful. “What’s wrong?”
She hesitates, fingers tightening on the doorframe, then glances at the takeout bag in my hand. “You brought dinner?”
“Yeah,” I say, stepping inside. “Wanted to make sure you ate.”
“Not much of an appetite lately,” she murmurs, closing the door behind me.
Something in her voice cracks, and I know whatever’s going on, it’s big.
We sit at the counter, food untouched. The silence feels heavy. She’s fidgeting, fingers tracing the edge of a napkin, eyes on anything but me.
“Charlie,” I say softly. “Talk to me.”
She swallows, shoulders rising with a shaky breath. “There’s something I need to tell you.”
My pulse kicks. “Okay.”
She nods, eyes still down. “I found out today that I’m pregnant.”
For a second, I just stare, the words hitting like a body check I never saw coming.
Then everything in me floods at once. Shock, sure. But mostly this surge of warmth, disbelief, joy.
“You’re—” I start, then stop, grinning before I can stop myself. “You’re serious?”
She looks up, blinking fast. “Yeah. I took a test this morning.”
“Jesus—” I huff out a breath that turns into a shocked laugh. “You’re pregnant.”
For a heartbeat, she just stares at me in disbelief and confusion.
“I didn’t mean for it to happen,” she says quickly, voice trembling. “I know the timing’s awful. And I know what happened before with Vanessa. You don’t owe me anything, Declan. I don’t ever want you to feel trapped again because of me.”
That word trapped lands like a knife. I’m at her side before I even think about it, taking her face in my hands.
“Hey. Don’t make this sound like something bad.”
Her breath shakes. “I just—”
“Charlie.” My voice drops, low and certain. “I love you. I already saw a future with you. With Sophie. This just… adds to it.”
She stares at me, searching for any crack, any sign I don’t mean it. There isn’t one.
Because somehow, the second she said it, I could already picture it: her, Sophie, and me, and now this tiny life in the middle of it all.
Her tears spill over, and I kiss her forehead, her cheek, the corner of her mouth.
“We’re okay. Better than okay.”
She lets out a sound somewhere between a laugh and a sob, shaking her head. “You can’t just… take this in stride like it’s nothing. You really want this? You’re not scared?”
“Sure I am.” I smile faintly. “But I’m not running from it.”
For a second, neither of us moves. Then I press my forehead to hers, voice low. “Move in with me.”
Her breath catches. “Declan—”
“I mean it.” I keep my hands at her waist, steady. “I love you, so does Sophie, and I—” I pause, smiling. “I’d like to wake up next to you for the rest of my life.”
She lets out a quiet, disbelieving laugh. “You’re serious.”
“Dead serious.”
Her hand slides over mine, her voice a whisper. “Okay.”
Relief, gratitude, and certainty hit like air after the longest penalty kill of my life.
The last time I heard the word pregnant, it came with obligation and panic, an uncertain, shaky future.
This time, it feels like peace. Like everything in my life just found its place.
I kiss her, slow at first, then pick her up and carry her to her bedroom, laying her gently on the bed.
The bed is soft under my knees as I kneel over her, my hands already tangled in her hair, her lips warm and yielding against mine.
She kisses me back, her fingers clutching the front of my shirt, pulling me closer.
I slow the kiss, my tongue sliding against hers, deepening it until her breath hitches. My hands drift down to her hips. She’s so small under my hands, but there’s nothing fragile about the way she kisses me. Still, I pull back just enough to breathe against her lips, my voice low.
“You sure about this?”
Her eyes lock onto mine. There’s something raw in them, something that makes my chest tighten.
“Yes,” she whispers, her breath warm against my mouth.
I don’t need to be told twice.
I kiss her again, slower this time, savoring the way her lips part for me, the way her body melts into mine. My hands slide under her shirt, my fingers skimming up her ribs, feeling the softness of her skin, her warmth.
She’s carrying my child.
The thought steadies something deep in me, like my whole life just found a center.
She shivers, her nails digging into my shoulders, her blonde hair fanning out against the pillow. I pull back just enough to pull her shirt off, revealing the pale curve of her breasts.
My hands tremble as I unclasp her bra, letting it fall to the side. I press kisses along her collarbone, down the slope of her chest. She arches into me with a soft, needy sound, her fingers tangling in my hair.
“Declan—”
My name on her lips is a plea, and I answer it by cupping her breasts, my thumbs brushing over her nipples until they harden under my touch. She gasps, her back lifting off the bed, her body already so responsive, so ready.
I kiss lower, my mouth trailing down her sternum and gently over her belly. My stubble scrapes her skin, and she squirms, her legs parting just a little.
I hook my fingers into the top of her leggings and pause, looking at her.
“You’re so beautiful,” I murmur, my voice rough.
And she is. Spread out beneath me, flushed and breathing hard, her lips swollen from my kisses. She bites her bottom lip, a smile tugging at her mouth, but her eyes are dark with desire.
I pull her leggings and underwear down in one swoop, revealing her completely. Just her, bare and glistening, her thighs trembling as I kiss the inside of one, then the other.
The first taste of her is intoxicating, her arousal already slick on my tongue.
She moans, her hands fisting in the sheets as I settle between her legs, my mouth working her slow and deep.
Her hips lift, chasing my tongue, but I gently pin her down, holding her still as I lick and suck, savoring every gasp, every broken whisper of my name.
Her thighs shake around my head, her breath coming in short, desperate bursts.
“Oh god, Declan—please—”
I don’t let up, my fingers digging into her thighs as she comes with a cry, her body trembling.
I don’t stop until she’s boneless, her chest heaving, her hands limp at her sides. Only then do I crawl back up her body, bracing myself over her. She’s still catching her breath, but her hands are already at my belt, fumbling with the buckle.
“I need you,” she murmurs, her voice raw.
The demand in her tone sends a jolt straight to my cock, already hard and aching behind my jeans.
I kick off my pants and boxers. Charlotte’s eyes darken as she takes me in, her tongue wetting her lips. I don’t make her wait. I line myself up, pressing into her in one slow, deep thrust. Her walls clench around me, so hot and wet it makes my vision blur.
“Charlie—” I moan, my forehead pressing to hers.
She cries out, her nails digging into my back as I pull her close, her legs wrapping around my waist, pulling me even deeper.
I move, slow and steady, my hips rolling into hers. Every thrust drags a gasp from her lips, her body welcoming me, gripping me like she never wants to let go. The bed creaks under us, the sound mixing with our ragged breaths, the slick slide of skin on skin.
She’s so fucking perfect. Her heels dig into my ass, urging me faster, harder, and I give her what she wants, my thrusts becoming desperate, my control fraying.
Her nails scrape down my back, her body tightening around me.
“Declan—I’m close—”
Her voice is high, breathless. I can feel her getting closer, and it’s all I can do not to lose it right then.
“Come with me,” I murmur, my voice low. She nods, her eyes locked on mine, her body trembling on the edge. I reach between us, my thumb finding her clit, circling it just once—
She shatters with a cry, her back arching, clenching around me so tight it drags my own orgasm from me. I come with a moan, my release crashing over me, my cock pulsing deep inside her. Her body shakes beneath mine as she rides out the last waves of her climax.
I lie down next to her, my heart pounding against hers. She wraps her arms around me, her fingers tracing slow patterns on my chest, her breath evening out.
The room is quiet again, the only sound is our combined breathing. I press a kiss to her hair, my lips lingering.
She smiles, soft and content, her body relaxing into mine like she’s finally where she’s meant to be.
And for the first time in a long time, I think I am too.
After a moment, I brush my thumb along her arm. “You know,” I say quietly, “now that HR cleared everything, I’d like to tell the guys. The team. Let it be out there.”
She lifts her head slightly, eyes searching mine. “You sure?”
“Yeah,” I say, smiling. “Feels good not to hide anymore.”
She hesitates, then nods. “Okay. Just… maybe keep this part between us for now?” she says, her hand sliding over her stomach.
I cover her hand with mine, warmth rising in my chest. “Of course. Just us.”
I kiss her hair, a quiet smile tugging at my mouth. “You have no idea how happy you’ve made me.”
Morning light filters through the blinds, soft and golden across her skin.
For a second, I just lie there taking in the view: her blonde hair spilled across my pillow, one hand resting on her stomach. The reality of it hits again, quiet but steady: she’s carrying my child.
It still doesn’t feel real. Or maybe it feels too real, like every wrong turn, every injury, every setback led exactly here.
There’s no panic this time. No obligation, no noise. Just oddly calm. Just right.
She stirs a little. “You have to head in early?”
“Yeah,” I murmur, brushing my thumb along her shoulder. “Meetings before skate. You working today?”
She nods against my chest. “Treatment room rotation this morning, then ice coverage.”
“Guess I’ll see you there.”
She smiles, sleepy but sure. “Guess you will.”
I press a kiss to her forehead, lingering a second longer than I should before I pull away. She watches me grab my jacket, eyes soft, like she’s still memorizing the moment.
The kind of look that stays with you all day.
By the time I hit the rink, the place is already buzzing: staff setting up, McCarthy and David in meetings, players filtering in with that familiar mix of focus and energy.
For once, the chaos doesn’t weigh on me. Everything feels lighter.
I drop my gear bag in my stall, and it doesn’t take long for the chirping to start.
Tyler grins. “Morning, Cap. You look… ridiculously happy.”
Dalton snorts. “What’d I miss?”
I grin, tugging on my jersey. “Figured it’s time I tell you all. Charlotte and I are together.”
For half a second, the room goes silent. Then Dalton’s eyes widen. “Wait—our Charlotte? As in our PT Charlotte?”
Torres whistles low. “Well, damn. That explains a lot.”
Tyler laughs. “No wonder you’ve been grinning like an idiot lately.”
Dalton shakes his head, half-impressed. “Man, you kept that locked down. I thought you were just sleeping better.”
“Guess you could say that,” I say, smirking.
McCarthy walks in just as the laughter kicks up. “What’s the noise?”
Dalton smirks. “Tremayne’s in love, Coach.”
Tyler grins. “Cap just dropped a bomb. He’s dating Charlotte.”
The coach pauses mid-stride, eyebrows lifting. “Blake?”
“Yep.”
A beat, then he just nods once. “Keep it professional at the rink and win the damn Cup.”
The room breaks into cheers and stick taps again, and I can’t help laughing.
It’s chaos, but the good kind: relief, surprise, support all rolled together.
Ten weeks ago, I couldn’t even stand on my own leg. Now I’ve got everything I didn’t even know I was still hoping for: my team, my daughter, the woman I love, and a future I’m not afraid to want.
The Final is up next.
This time, I’m not just chasing the Cup.
I’m chasing everything that matters.