Santa’s Pucking Hat Trick (The Forbidden Reverse Harem Collection)

36. Wes

36

WES

“ H ey, Robbins! Get your head out of your ass and chase the puck, will you?”

The shout came from across the ice, cutting through the roar of the crowd and the cold slap of the wind against my face. I turned to see our coach glaring at me from the other end of the rink, looking ready to bash some sense into me if the words didn’t work. He wasn’t wrong, though. I was playing like shit, and I knew it.

I tried to shake it off, to focus as the puck dropped again and I sliced across the ice with my skates. But no matter how hard I pushed myself, everything still felt off. The game was moving in a blur around me, players colliding, sticks clashing, but my mind kept drifting back to Rachel. To her face the last time I saw her, that teary expression of pure hurt, like I’d let her down in ways I didn’t even understand yet.

And the news—God, the news.

I shouldn’t have been so surprised that she was pregnant after all of the raw, condom-less sex we’d been having. But she was on the pill. She was supposed to be on the pill.

My chest tightened just thinking about it. She was carrying a baby, one of our babies, and I had no idea if I was the father. Neither did she. It could’ve just as easily been Roman or Sawyer who’d caused this whole mess with irresponsible ejaculation. The whole thing was a mess, and what made it worse was that we hadn’t heard it from her. Fucking Bria had dropped the bombshell at the charity gala, with Rachel looking like a deer caught in headlights, and we were left standing there, blindsided.

How could she not tell us? After everything we’d been through together, after all we’d shared, how we’d agreed to be all-in on this unconventional relationship, she hadn’t trusted us enough to come clean. And now, I couldn’t focus on anything—not the game, not the puck, not even the guys on the other team skating past me like I wasn’t even there.

I wanted to be angry, and part of me still was. But there was something else there too, something I hadn’t expected: unplanned and scary as it was, I wanted the baby to be mine. The thought of Rachel having a child— our child—wasn’t terrible. In fact, it was the opposite. Somewhere deep down, I wanted to be that kid’s father. I wanted to be in their life, to give them everything I never had growing up. But that was assuming I even had the right to feel that way.

God. A fucking mess. A grade A disaster.

A stick cracked against mine, and I snapped back to reality just in time to see the puck slipping away from me. I cursed under my breath, skating hard after it, but the other team was faster. They were everywhere, swarming the ice, and we were down on the scoreboard. The Skatin’ Santas were dangerously close to ruining our winning streak, all because I couldn’t keep my head in the game.

“Come on, Wes!” Michael’s voice barked from behind me as he skated past, his own frustration clear. I wasn’t the only one off my game. Roman had been uncharacteristically quiet and nonaggressive, and Sawyer had been playing like his legs were made of lead. We were all dragging, and it showed.

The period ended, and the buzzer sounded, signaling a merciful pause. I skated off the ice with the rest of the guys, the weight of our bad performance hanging heavy over us. In the locker room, no one said much. Everyone was tired and pissed, but Roman, Sawyer, and I were in a league of our own. We sat side by side on the bench, heads down, barely saying a word.

Michael, usually the one to crack a joke or lighten the mood, stood in front of his locker looking unusually serious. His eyes met mine for a moment, and I could see something in his face—something I hadn’t seen since the night Sharon blew everything up at his engagement party.

“Hey,” Michael said, breaking the tension, but causing a new one to come up in its place. He pointed to Rome, Sawyer and me. “You three. Outside. Now.”

I glanced at the guys beside me, and they exchanged quick looks before we all got up, following Michael out of the locker room. The hallway was quiet compared to the chaos of the game, and Michael stopped just outside the door, crossing his arms.

For a second, no one said anything. The air between us was thick, awkward, like we were all waiting for something to snap.

“Look,” Michael finally said, his voice steady but low, “I’m not mad anymore. Not about you guys dating Rachel. Not even about…the baby.”

The three of us blinked, taken aback. Michael had been furious for weeks—how could he be this calm now?

I cleared my throat. “You’re not?”

Michael shook his head, his expression softening a little. “I was pissed, yeah. I didn’t get it. I didn’t like the idea of you three with my sister, let alone getting her pregnant. But…I’ve had time to think. Rachel was happy with you guys. Happier than I’ve ever seen her. And after everything, I know she needs you fuckos to step up. Now more than ever.”

Sawyer frowned, his arms crossing over his chest. “Why would you want us to be with her after everything that happened? After we snuck around behind your back?”

“Ruined your fucking party,” Roman grumbled in agreement.

Michael met each of our eyes evenly, a maturity I’d never seen in him showing itself in this tough moment. “Because she loves you idiots, alright? And you love her too. It’s obvious.”

The words hit me harder than I expected. I’d known it, of course—hell, I’d been living with my own truth even since before I’d realized it at Thanksgiving—but hearing it out loud, from Michael of all people, made it real. Made it undeniable.

Michael shifted his weight, his tone softening. “She didn’t tell you about the baby because she was scared, alright? My sister acts tough, but she’s squishy on the inside. Maybe even more than me. And let’s face it. You guys aren’t exactly the perfect pictures of fatherhood.”

He had a point. With my chaotic ex drama, Sawyer’s divorce angst, and Roman’s inability to commit…I wouldn’t want to have a kid with us either.

“He has a point,” Roman piped up, making me want to laugh.

“Of course I do,” Michael said, rolling his eyes. He didn’t wait for a response. He just gave each of us one last look, the kind that said Tighten up! and walked away, leaving the three of us standing in the hallway, stunned.

Roman let out a low whistle. “Well…didn’t expect that.”

Sawyer shook his head, still processing. “I mean, he’s right, isn’t he? We overreacted. Rachel’s been through a lot, and it’s not like there’s a handbook for this kind of relationship. She didn’t feel safe enough to tell us about her pregnancy yet. That’s on us too.”

I exhaled slowly, letting the weight of it sink in. Michael was right. We’d been so focused on the fact that she hadn’t told us, that we hadn’t stopped to think about why she might’ve been afraid. We hadn’t exactly been the most reliable partners, especially in the beginning. Hell, we were just as big of a mess as people as we’d been on the ice tonight. No wonder she didn’t feel like she could come to us.

“I don’t care whose baby it is,” I said, my voice low but firm. “Whether it’s mine, Roman’s, Sawyer’s…it doesn’t matter. As far as I’m concerned, it’s our baby because it’s hers.”

Roman and Sawyer nodded, the same resolve settling into their expressions. There was no question anymore. We were going to be there for Rachel—and for the baby. We were going to make this right, as soon as we were free from this fucking hockey game and could go get her.

“Let’s win this for her,” Roman said, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth.

I smiled, the tension in my chest easing for the first time all night. “For Rachel.”

The game wasn’t over yet—not for the Santas, and definitely not for us. We were going to win this, and when it was over, we were going to fight for Rachel. Because we loved her. And now, we knew she needed us just as much as we needed her.