Page 26 of One Night with Number Nineteen

An exhale—a fucking shaky one. “I’ll be okay.”

“I know you will, Pages. But that’s not what I asked.”

Her brows pull together. “You asked if I was okay. I said I will be.”

“Which isn’t okay right now.”

A thread of temper in her deep brown eyes.

I give in to the urge and touch her further, turning her body toward me, taking her hands in mine and opening them, stopping her from digging her nails into her palms.

“Talk to me,” I order softly.

Her eyes slide closed. “I, um, just wish that Ollie wasn’t having that sleepover. The house is empty and⁠—”

“Want me to drive you home?” I ask. “Make sure your house is safe? I can call Faye too, I’m sure she’d come over or you could stay with them.”

“N-no,” she says quickly, shaking her head sharply. “No, no.” A deep breath. “I don’t even know why I mentioned it. Forget I said anything. The guy’s in jail, and the detective said it was just a random wrong-place-wrong-time situation.”

I step closer, near enough to scent the floral notes of her shampoo. “I’ll drive you home, Lanes. Check out your house, make sure no one’s there.”

“You don’t have⁠—”

“I’m doing it,” I say more firmly.

She shudders and those eyes peel open. “Sawyer,” she begins.

“I have time,” I tell her. A lie because my phone has been blowing up with texts and calls and reminders of all the shit I need to do. But none of them are more important than Lainey right now. “Promise. It’s not an imposition.”

“Are you sure?”

“So sure.” A beat before I go for the kill. “Plus, I know you have some of Harper’s sugar cookies. It’ll give me a chance to steal a few.”

Her lips twitch ever so slightly then she exhales quietly. “Thank you.”

“It’s nothing.” I shrug carelessly…even though nothing about this feels careless. “We’ll both know you’re safe, and we can always call one of the girls to come stay with you if you still are worried.”

She shakes her head in protest. “I’ll be⁠—”

Before she can say fine, I wrap my arm around her shoulders again.

Guide her to my car.

I drive her home, check out her house, and find it full of nothing but books and toys and Christmas decorations (that’s to say—absent of any deranged men).

I want to linger, want to find an excuse to stay.

To touch.

But…not for me.

Not for me.

So, I force myself to head for the door, knowing I’ll absolutely be calling Gray and telling him to get his and Faye’s asses over here before I pull out of the driveway.

“I’ll see you soon,” I murmur, reaching for the knob.

But not grasping it.