Page 56 of One Night with Number Nineteen

Sawyer scoops him up and settles him on his shoulders as they celebrate their goal alongside Nate, who isn’t exactly whooping and cheering alongside Ollie and Sawyer, but seems to have melted just the slightest bit.

He’s smiling at least.

Meanwhile, Leo and Smitty and Ace lean on their sticks as they watch the show.

“Wa. Wa. Wa. Wa!” Reese babbles and I grin down at her, bouncing her on my knee.

“I know,” I say. “They’re all hockey crazy.” I boop her on the nose, watch as she smiles. “Are you going to be hockey crazy too?”

“I’m thinking of pushing soccer,” Luns says, sitting down beside me with a sigh.

Laughing, I pass Reese back over to her—because she heard her mommy and thus wants her mommy. But I stay where I am as Luna nurses Reese and does it all while expounding on all of the pros of soccer and the cons of hockey.

Unfortunately, her audience isn’t so sold.

She gets boos from Smitty and arguments from Shep, one of the Hawks players Ace begrudgingly introduced us to.

Storm and his daughter, Holly, have a lot to say about it too—though his fiancée, Poppy, just smiles and shrugs, “Hockey is expensive.”

“Precisely!” Luna declares, making Reese, who’d fallen asleep, jump. But Reese—already used to the usual Grizzlies chaos—immediately settles back in to slumber. “Soccer is much more accessible.”

“And boring,” Smitty says, leaning close to Kailey and kissing her cheek then carefully scooping up Sophie.

She’s so tiny, especially in those big hands.

God, I remember those days.

How little Ollie was, how much he slept (and how little of it was at the right times).

Harper pushes up to her feet and Leo immediately zips to her side. “Just using the bathroom, honey. Take a breath.” She brushes her lips over his. “Baby’s not coming for a few more days at least.”

He relaxes (marginally), and lets her go.

But he doesn’t join us sitting on the deck.

He just watches the back door and waits for her to return.

Smiling, and glad my friends have found each other even if Baby Watch is imminent, I tune back into the conversation⁠—

Or start to, anyway.

Because my eyes—as they’re often wont to do—drift to Sawyer.

He’s leaning against one of the porch’s posts, his eyes on his phone as he uses one hand to type away, his other going to his neck and rubbing at it.

As though it aches.

It’s the same spot as yesterday, and I wouldn’t be surprised if it’s still bothering him, considering some of the hits he took tonight.

Even as that thought drifts through my mind, I find my own feet, making my way across the porch.

“You okay?” he asks the moment I get close.

“You’re not,” I say softly.

Something dark slithers through his eyes before he smiles. “I’m fine, Pages.”

In answer, I just reach up and carefully dislodge his hand. “You’re hurting.”