Despite his warning, a dark curiosity sparked my imagination.
“I’m not afraid of a challenge,” I said.
“You afraid of never walking again?”
“Yes, yes. You’re a formidable man. Bane of the pure and slayer of hymens.”
Apparently, Adrian had even less patience talking about his prowess than he did his injury. He scowled, a positively foreboding warning for a man talking about his cock.
“Where did this idea even come from?” Adrian lowered his voice. “Do you even know what you’re asking of me?”
If he needed me to explain this, then I’d been dramatically misled on what details the men shared in the locker room.
“I’m asking if you’ll be the father of my baby,” I said.
“Christ, you’re serious.”
I shushed him with a stern glance. “You would make a fantastic daddy, Adrian. You’re such a good man.”
“Yeah, but this good man usually does all he can to not get a girl pregnant.”
“Only because you never found the right girl. Luckily for you, you didn’t need to look hard for her.” I did my best to charm him with a smile. “Just think—all that time I spent with you in the hospital or cheering you on at the games or stealing your popcorn during movie nights…we could’ve been making babies.”
This thought sent him pacing across the galley. Didn’t have much room for his long strides, but Adrian made it work. Always said he could never think if he wasn’t able to move. It was why he had horrible grades in high school but possessed an unsurpassed genius on the ice.
“We’ve been friends for over twenty years,” he said. Two steps and he’d reached the far wall. One turn, and he’d nearly collided with the door to the lavatory. “You’ve never once expressed any interest in starting a family—especially with me. What the hell is going on?”
“Can’t a girl have a change of heart?”
“You won’t even change your bathroom towels without making a pro/con list between cotton and bamboo.”
“Well, it’s gotta be cotton—”
“This is coming out of nowhere, Clover.”
I took the opposite seat from Adrian and waited as a sleepy passenger plodded down the aisle in search of the lavatory.
“It’s exactly what I’ve been telling you,” I said. “I want a change. I’m tired of traveling and waking up in every city except home. I’m stressed. I’m not having fun anymore. And I started thinking it’d be great if I could have a baby before turning thirty. If you agree, I’d have number one before I’m twenty-eight—”
“—Number one?”
“It works out perfectly.”
“Except it doesn’t.” Adrian covered his eyes. “You’re talking about having a baby…our baby.” Simply saying it overwhelmed him. He reached the wall and knocked his head off the fuselage with a solid thunk. “We can’t even share a bottle of water on a road trip. If you get frustrated with me, it’s not like you can toss the baby at my head and demand we pull over at the nearest gas station to buy a second one just for you.”
“Are you worried we couldn’t handle it?”
“Handle what? We can barely agree on wing sauces.”
“And yet we survive every movie night.”
He snorted. “You realize I agree to whatever you want to eat and whichever movie you want to watch to keep you happy?”
“And what’s wrong with that?”
His lips drew into a thin line. “Aha. Now I get it. I’m the only man who will tolerate you long enough to hop into bed.”
If only he knew how right he was.
“No—you’re the perfect man to hop into bed with me, and not just because you compromise with me.”
“You mean, surrender?”
“You take good care of me.”
He wasn’t convinced. I threatened to pitch a bag of pretzels at his head, but if it was easier to catch flies with honey than vinegar, it’d be easier to bed a hockey player with a smile than lube.
“You’ve rescued me from flat-tires,” I said. “Helped me paint my bedroom…and then repaint it when the color looked like a sick yellow instead of sunshiney and bright.”
“Painting?” He sighed. “That’s your qualification for making a baby?”
“Practice for a nursery.”
“I’m out of here.”
He bolted for his seat. I grabbed his hand.
“You care about me,” I said. “You call to make sure I’m okay when I’m on the road—and if it was a bad flight, you always order something tasty to be delivered to my room. Pizza, wings, salads, ice cream…”
He rubbed his face. “If a room service grilled cheese sandwich gets me access between your legs, you’re a cheaper date than anyone on the Marauders ever hoped.”
“It’s not about the sex.” Though…in reality…it was all about the sex and I simply ignored that dick the size of an elephant in the room. “Don’t you think it’d be fun to have a baby?”
“Fun?”
Should’ve known the concept of fun was foreign to a man who lived and breathed exercise, conditioning, training, and practices. Without me, I suspected the man would curl up in his locker and live at the arena.
He sighed. “I’ve never thought about having kids, Clover.”
My stomach dropped about thirty thousand feet to the ground below.
“Never? You never imagined about settling down, finding someone, starting a family?”
He quieted. “My life is just…hockey. Just like you chose to spend these last few years working and traveling.”
And there was our problem.
I knew it. He knew it. And yet, we’d let our careers control our lives for so long because…
Well…I had no answer. Only because it had worked for us.
Because I’d been so busy taking as many flights as I could and traveling to anyplace that sounded exotic. And he’d worshipped nothing but the puck and devoted his life to perfecting his game. We’d never made time for anything else. And our friendship worked because we expected nothing of the other, completely forgiving cancelled dates or missed connections because we were too focused on our own lives.
But that was no way to live.
I rifled through the food cart and split a bag of cookies with him. We’d need something to get us through this conversation.
“I know you, Adrian,” I said. “You ignore everything that isn’t on the ice. You didn’t even tour your new house before you bought it.”
“The realtor said it was great.”
“And you didn’t pick your own furnishings.”
“The interior decorator said she’d handle it.”
The cookie crunched to dust in my hand. “Doesn’t it bother you? Not even knowing what your home will look like?”
“When would I have had time to tour the houses and furniture shop?”
“Most people would make time.”
He grinned. “I’m the captain of a brand-new hockey expansion team. I’m not most people.”
And while I loved that about him, it did worry me. Especially when he saw no problem with abandoning real life to focus entirely on hockey.