Page 90 of One Night with Number Nineteen

And anyway, I need to wait for Sawyer to get to the hotel, and it’ll be a few hours yet. He has to do press and post-game cooldowns then bus to the airport and fly to Utah for their game against the Rattlers. Then they’ll have one more matchup against Seattle before they’re heading home.

I wonder how his body is holding up, if his neck is hurting him.

If the loss tonight is eating at him.

He played well—at least in my book. Clearly, he was working hard and making passes and stuff. He even got another goal.

But that and another from Rip weren’t enough to secure that win for the Grizzlies.

They lost by two.

So yeah, I wonder if Sawyer will be upset, if he’ll get to the hotel and just go to sleep, forgetting all about calling me because he’s pissed about losing.

A blip of worry—and maybe of relief.

Because if he is like that…red flag.

And a red flag will mean my heart is safe.

No red flags in this house. Nor in my life or Ollie’s.

“You’re insane,” I whisper.

Because even as I’m thinking all of that nonsense, the rest of me is hoping he’ll remember, hoping he won’t forget.

That he’ll show me the last weeks of paying attention and being kind and sweet and considerate aren’t bullshit.

That he really is the man I’ve come to know.

“Yup.” I scrub at my eyes. “Insane.”

Yet, I stay up working anyway.

Not that it’s a struggle. My mind is full of ideas, and I dive into a scene about a battle gone wrong—something that devastates my heroes, makes them feel as though any chance of victory has just slipped away.

It’s heartbreaking and brutal, a battle of wills and wits and strength…

And they ultimately come up short.

I’m wiping away tears when my phone buzzes with a text.

Realizing several hours have passed, I swipe at my cheeks and unlock the screen.

SAWYER: You up, Pages?

He remembered.

I exhale, blow my nose, and hit the button to video call him.

It rings once, twice…

Then Sawyer’s tired face is on the screen.

It goes from exhausted to worried in an instant. “What’s wrong?”

I frown. “What do you mean?”

“You’ve been crying. Has something happened? Is Ollie okay? Are you okay?”