Page 98 of One Night with Number Nineteen

“Didn’t he hire her?”

“Yup.” A shrug. “Hockey players are stubborn fucks, aren’t we?”

“Most definitely,” I say then, “Maybe ask him about his favorite place to vacation.”

“Why would I do that?”

“Travel tells a lot about people—does he like cities or nature, being with other people or hitting the bars or checking out a museum.” I wipe at my forehead again. “I don’t know. Maybe it’ll give you somewhere to start.”

Smitty’s mouth has dropped open.

Then he slowly shakes his head. “Fuck, man. That’s brilliant.” He lifts his voice so it echoes around the room. “Cupcake is brilliant!” he shouts before stripping down. “Thanks, buddy,” he says, clapping me on the shoulder.

“Anytime.”

He jabs a finger my direction. “Brilliant!” he repeats then hits the showers.

I roll my eyes but just go to my own stall, pulling off the rest of my gear.

“Hey, Sawyer?”

I glance over at Rip. “Yeah, Rook?”

“After you’re done showering, could you show me how to do that squat exercise you were talking about?”

“Of course.” I toss my dirty jersey into the bin in the center of the room. “Want me to show you right now?”

“Oh, I can wait.”

“Eh, I’ll probably get sweaty, anyway.” I tug on my pants, shove my feet in my shoes. “Let’s hit it.”

We head back out in the hall, turn in the direction of the weight room and…nearly plow over Bri.

“Shit,” Rip says, steadying her with his hands on her shoulders. “Sorry, Bri. I was⁠—”

“All good.” She brushes him off then looks at me. “I wanted to ask you about the auction⁠—”

“Shoot,” I say. “I forgot to send you those dates. I—” I pat my pockets, realize my phone is back in the locker room. “I’ll text them to you as soon as I’m done here.”

A relieved smile that has guilt rippling through me. I should have told her sooner. “Thanks, Sawyer.” She kisses me on the cheek then zips away. “Talk to you later!”

“Bye,” Rip calls.

A flat look over her shoulder. “Bye.”

My gaze locks with his. “Problem?”

“No,” he mutters.

I pause, considering my options then…decide to leave it. For the moment, anyway.

“Let’s go,” I say, pushing open the door to the weight room.

Within ten minutes, he’s got it…and I’m sweating.

“I’ll leave you to it,” I tell him, swiping at my forehead and heading down the hall. Showering takes me another ten, and then I’m walking down the hall and out into the parking lott.

My phone buzzes as I’m climbing into the driver’s seat and my lips curve when I see it’s Lainey.