Chapter 3
Kia
By the time I finish my makeup, I can’t tell if the queasiness in my stomach is from nerves or the pregnancy.
I brace my hands on the bathroom counter and stare at my reflection.
The girl looking back at me is a paler version of myself with blue eyes that are a little too big and cheeks that are a little too hollow.
But Rina was right about the sweater dress.
It’s cozy, flattering, and loose enough to keep my secret where it belongs.
Hidden.
I smooth my palm over the knit and the faint curve beneath it.
My phone sits face down on the counter. I stare at it for a moment, then force myself to flip it over before I can chicken out. Relief washes through me when I see there aren’t any new messages from Collin.
I press my lips together until the trembling stops.
It feels like I’ve been in an emotional free fall since the day I stared at that positive sign on the stick test, and I still haven’t figured out how to catch myself.
When a wave of nausea rolls through me without warning, I draw in air and wait it out, fingers digging into the cool marble.
The appointment Rina scheduled is on my calendar for next week. I haven’t let myself think too hard about the ultrasound or the bloodwork—the moment everything becomes undeniably real.
The goal for today is simple. Survive Thanksgiving without throwing up on the centerpiece.
There’s a light tap on the bedroom door. “Kia? Can I come in?”
“Yeah,” I call, stepping out of the bathroom.
Rina slips in, wearing a deep-green dress that makes her eyes pop.
Her hair falls down her back in a dark, silky curtain, and there’s an expression on her face I now recognize.
It’s not just happiness that radiates from her but a sense of belonging, as if she finally found her place in this world and the person she’s supposed to be with.
As soon as her gaze lands on me, she smiles. “I knew that dress was made for you.”
Heat climbs up my neck. “Thanks. I love it.”
“You look absolutely gorgeous,” she says. “Perfect for Thanksgiving dinner with a bunch of overgrown hockey players who’ll hopefully be on their best behavior.”
I huff out a laugh. “That feels a little too optimistic.”
“I’m trying to manifest it.” She adjusts my neckline, fussing like I imagine an older sister would. “Are you feeling okay?”
“Yeah,” I lie, then reconsider the impulse. “Maybe a little off. You know how it is.”
“I certainly do. Although, your morning sickness has been worse than mine.” Rina searches my face. “If it gets bad, we can always make up an excuse. Hugh and Evelyn will understand.”
Her thoughtfulness makes my eyes burn. I shake my head, more determined than ever to put on a brave face and get through this evening. “No. I’ll be fine.”
“All right. But if you start feeling sick, let me know and we’ll take off. Deal?”
I nod. “Deal.”
She links her arm through mine. “Don’t worry. We’ll get through this together.”
We step into the hallway just as Oliver appears from the living room, shrugging on a navy jacket over his light-blue shirt.
His gaze lands on Rina, and everything about him changes. His shoulders relax and his mouth curves up. “Wow. You both look incredible. Are we ready to go?”
“Almost,” Rina says, stepping closer and adjusting his lapels. As soon as she does, he bends to kiss her, one palm settling over her abdomen.
It’s ridiculously sweet.
The intimacy of the gesture hits me straight in the ribs. Oliver, who once treated relationships like a disease, is going to be an incredible father.
And my baby won’t have one at all.
That thought hits so hard, I have to look away, pretending to fumble with the strap of my purse so neither of them notice the wetness gathering in my eyes.
There are times when I feel like an intruder around them.
As if I’m trespassing on the small, self-contained bubble they’ve built for themselves all the while lingering at the edges, carrying a secret, and wondering what it would feel like to have someone rest a hand on my stomach and be happy about it instead of calling it a problem that needs to be erased.
“Kia?” Oliver’s voice jerks me back to the present. “Are you good?”
“Yup.” I force a smile. “Just thinking about how much food I plan to put away.”
“Totally valid. I’ve been doing the same.” He slips an arm around Rina’s waist and steers her toward the elevator. “I’m sure there’ll be enough to feed an army.”
“Or, at the very least, a hockey team,” Rina adds with a laugh.
Once in the elevator, Oliver murmurs against Rina’s temple. With a chuckle, she covers his hand with hers.
I really am happy for them. I just wish it didn’t make the ache inside me feel so raw.
The drive to Hugh’s penthouse takes about ten minutes. Rina fills me in on who’ll be there—Steele and Lilah, River, Callie and her daughter Nora, Jax, Knox, and Laiken with his daughter, Elody.
My belly tilts sideways at the mention of Laiken.
“You met most of the guys at poker night when you babysat Elody,” Oliver adds. “They’re a good bunch. Mostly.”
I nod as my thoughts drift to the last time I saw Laiken Lennox. You could tell exactly what kind of father he was by the way his expression softened anytime he looked at his daughter. There’s a quiet intensity about the man that’s lingered in my thoughts long after that night.
“Sure,” I say lightly. “It’ll be fun.”
Hugh’s building is all sleek glass and polished stone, the entrance flanked by warm lighting and a doorman in a tailored coat who looks like he stepped out of a luxury ad. After the valet takes Oliver’s keys, we head inside, the revolving doors whispering to a stop behind us.
The doorman greets Oliver by name. It’s one more reminder that the Railers are celebrities in this city. I trail a step behind, unable to stop my gaze from traveling around the lobby.
It looks like a staged photo pulled straight from the glossy pages of a magazine.
Marble floors gleam beneath soaring ceilings as gold fixtures catch the light from overhead.
Massive vases overflow with white orchids arranged so perfectly they almost look fake.
Everything smells faintly of citrus and something expensive I can’t quite place.
At the concierge desk, Oliver checks in, exchanging easy conversation with the receptionist. His voice fades into the background when my phone vibrates inside my purse.
That’s all it takes for my muscles to lock up and dread to rush in.
I slip my phone from my purse, already bracing for an unknown number to flash across the screen.
Instead, it’s one of my roommates from school checking in, making sure I’m okay since I’ve pretty much gone MIA after dropping out and showing up on my brother’s doorstep a few weeks ago.
The relief that hits is enough to make my knees give out as tension drains from my body in one long exhale. My shoulders sag as everything inside me deflates, the panic loosening its grip just enough for me to breathe again.
Rina touches my hand. “Is everything okay?”
I force a nod and bolster my smile. “Yeah. Just a little nervous.”
Instead of pushing, she squeezes my arm as we head to the elevator. The ride is smooth and silent. It’s the kind of quiet that makes you feel like the walls are pressing in on you. I stare at the panel and watch the numbers climb.
When the elevator doors slide open, it feels less like arriving on another floor and more like stepping into a completely different world.
Hugh’s penthouse makes Oliver’s place look like a standard hotel suite, which I didn’t think was possible.
A polished hardwood floor stretches beneath our feet, leading to floor-to-ceiling windows that frame a sweeping view of the Chicago skyline, the city lights already beginning to flicker on as dusk settles in.
A black baby grand piano sits near the glass, perfectly positioned, as if someone might wander over and play at any moment. Low jazz drifts through hidden speakers, the music wrapping around the space and giving the gathering a sophisticated, intimate feel that’s warm instead of pretentious.
The air is scented with turkey, butter, and cinnamon.
It’s comfort and indulgence rolled into one, carrying me straight back to the holidays of my childhood.
Laughter and conversation swirl together as deep male baritones weave with lighter feminine voices.
It’s loud and soft at the same time, cozy yet somehow overwhelming.
It feels like walking onto a movie set mid-scene, where everyone else knows their lines while I flip through the script, frantically trying to find my place.
“Look who finally arrived,” a familiar voice says.
Evelyn appears in the entryway, effortlessly chic in a navy blouse and tailored trousers, her lipstick perfect. Her gaze sweeps over the three of us before landing on me.
“Kia,” she greets. “Don’t you look lovely. Cream is absolutely your color.”
“Thank you. Your place is…” I glance around, searching for the right word. “Incredible.”
Even though she smiles, a hard glint flickers in her eyes before disappearing. “Actually, it’s Hugh’s,” she says lightly, as if the distinction matters, before stepping aside. “Come in, all of you. Make yourselves at home. There’s food everywhere. And more still to come.”
Oliver pats his stomach as he glances at me. “This is your reminder to pace yourself.”
A joke about elastic waistbands sits perched on the tip of my tongue when a high-pitched squeal cuts through the noise.
“Kia!”
I barely have time to brace before a small body launches itself at me. Elody hits with a surprising amount of force for someone so little. Her arms wind around my hips as she stares up at me with a grin so big that the tension within me has no other choice but to dissolve.
With a laugh, I smooth a hand over her hair. “Hi! Long time no see.”
“You came!” she says, eyes filled with excitement. “I told Daddy you would!”
For a second, everything narrows to this little girl and her absolute certainty that I’d attend the celebration.
“How could I miss Thanksgiving?”
She beams as her small hand slides into mine. “Come on,” she says with a tug. “Daddy’s over here.”
I glance at Rina and find her shoulders shaking with silent laughter.
Elody drags me through the guests, weaving between players, partners, and flower arrangements. I catch glimpses as we go. Steele with his arm around Lilah, murmuring in her ear. River talking to Callie, who’s balancing Nora on her hip. Knox and Jax trading jabs.
And then I see him standing near the window, a tumbler in one hand and the other tucked into his pants pocket, a charcoal sweater stretched over broad shoulders.
His hair looks like he’s raked his fingers through it too many times to count.
Even from across the room, the shadows beneath his eyes are obvious.
Laiken Lennox looks like a man holding himself together by sheer force of will. Every muscle is tight, every movement controlled, like if he relaxes even a fraction, something inside him might finally crack.
As if sensing my appraisal, his gaze lifts and fastens on mine.
For one suspended heartbeat, the chatter around us, the clink of glasses, the music drifting through the room, fades until there’s nothing left but the weight of his stare holding me in place.
This isn’t attraction in the easy, superficial sense.
It’s heavier. More unsettling. A connection that has no business existing between two people who barely know each other.
His focus feels almost searching, like he’s trying to look past every careful layer I’ve built around myself to what lies beneath it all.
Heat spreads under my skin, and suddenly I’m hyperaware of the space between us and how impossible looking away feels.
Elody squeals again, and the moment snaps. “Daddy! Daddy, look who came! It’s Kia!”
A few more steps bring us close enough for his height to make me feel small in a way that has nothing to do with inches.
“Hello,” I say, doing my best to keep my voice casual.
His jaw flexes once before he responds. “Hey.”
The word is low and rough around the edges, as if he hasn’t quite decided what to do with this moment either.
It takes a second to realize we’re not alone.
Heat crawls up my neck as I glance at the three men standing beside him, watching the exchange with varying degrees of curiosity and poorly disguised amusement.
I offer a polite smile. “Happy Thanksgiving.”
They echo the greeting easily enough as their gazes bounce between me and their teammate.
It’s almost a relief when Elody presses my hand between both of hers. “Daddy, can Kia sit by us at the table? Please?”
Laiken looks down at his daughter, his features easing. “Yeah, bug. If Kia is up for that, it’s fine with me.”
I swallow, aware of how sweaty my grip has become. “Sure,” I manage. “I’d like that.”
His gaze slides down the length of me before snapping back up, as if he caught himself doing something he shouldn’t. Surprise flickers across his expression before it turns guarded.
There’s a moment of awkward silence before he clears his throat. “Elody’s been talking about you nonstop since you babysat.”
Warmth floods through me. “We had a really good time.” I look down at his daughter. “How’s Penny’s hair holding up?”
Elody pouts. “Not good. Can you braid it again?”
I nod. “Absolutely.”
Laiken’s exhale sounds suspiciously like a laugh. “Um, excuse me? You didn’t even ask me to fix her hair.”
Elody wrinkles her nose. “You’re not very good at it, Daddy.”
“Ouch.”
Still beaming, Elody squeezes my hand.
I wish it were possible to ignore just how aware I am of the man standing less than three feet away. From the heat radiating off his body to the faint scent of soap and the subtle woodsy note that clings to the air around him.
I really shouldn’t notice any of it.
And I definitely shouldn’t care.
He’s older.
A single dad.
My brother’s teammate.
Every one of those facts flashes through my mind like a bright neon warning sign that screams off-limits. My belly, unfortunately, doesn’t get the memo, and flutters in response.