Page 46 of One Night with Number Nineteen

I should let him leave.

But that same feeling from last night comes over me and I say, “You could also stay. There’s that new movie on streaming that everyone’s talking about.”

“You want me to stay, Pages?”

I suck in a breath.

Because it would be safer, smarter to say no.

But something in his eyes has me saying, “Yes.”

His chest rises on an inhale, his throat works, and he nods.

“Then I’ll stay.”

Thirteen

Sawyer

I wake up with a stiff neck and a soft blanket tucked around me.

A soft blanket I definitely hadn’t been using the night before.

Something that has my heart squeezing and my infatuation—okay, maybe it’s obsession at this point—with Lainey growing even more all-consuming.

I made it through maybe another twenty minutes of the movie after Lainey fell asleep beside me.

Then, apparently, I followed her lead.

Opening my eyes, I realize what must have woken me.

Because I find⁠—

A tiny human’s face approximately two inches from mine.

“Hey!” Ollie says with far more energy than is reasonable considering that the sun’s barely peeking over the horizon.

“Hey,” I tell him, rubbing at my eyes as I sit up and check my phone.

It’s a little after six, and miracle of miracles, my mom didn’t text me at all last night—or not after I texted her and told her I’d stop by today before practice.

And considering it’s so early, I should have plenty of time to tick off all the items on her to-do list before I hit the rink.

Then tonight I can catch up on those contracts and finish the charity auction proposal and see if the Christmas presents I ordered at the last minute arrived. I need to wrap them and I still need to brave the giant baby store downtown to grab something for Reese and Sophie.

They won’t remember—hell, they won’t be able to even open their presents—but I don’t want to forget them.

And somewhere in there, I need to get over to my physical therapist because my neck is fucking killing me.

Oh.

And I should probably pay attention to the tiny human in front of me.

“You hungry?” I ask, tossing back the blanket.

A solemn nod.

“What do you feel like?”