Page 2 of One Night with Number Nineteen

“We won’t?”

“God no.” I laugh, watch as she relaxes. “Smitty brings enough weirdness to the fam without us having to worry about our contributions.”

She trails me as I walk toward the door, says, “Exactly. I mean, did you hear his tangent about geese tonight?”

“I did. And his tangent about beady black eyes.”

“It’s absurd.”

“And yet, the man is also scared of wombats,” I say as I head downstairs, snagging my jacket from the floor of the hallway.

Thirty minutes ago, she was stripping me naked.

Now, she’s seeing me to the door.

“I’ll be here tomorrow to help with the move-in.”

“What? You don’t like my current decorating aesthetic?” She sweeps an arm around the almost empty house—and with the exception of her bed we just broke in and a few boxes of clothes, bags of groceries, it is empty—her smile so fucking beautiful it hurts.

“I’m thinking you’ll like a few more pieces of furniture.”

“Maybe.” She squeezes my hand. “I’d say you don’t have to help, but I’m starting to get that you and the rest of the Grizzlies mostly just ignore my protests and do it anyway.”

“That’s true enough,” I say on a chuckle.

We pause a few feet from the front door, quiet falling between us.

I should go, should make this easy.

It’s just…every cell in my body is screaming at me, begging me to do something, to say something to make sure this night doesn’t end here.

Doesn’t end like this.

“You know,” I say softly. “We could always⁠—”

Her phone rings.

I bend, snag her purse from the floor where she dropped it earlier (probably because she was too focused on giving me the best kiss of my life) and pass it to her.

“Thanks,” she murmurs, digging inside the handbag.

“Anytime. I just wanted⁠—”

She pulls her phone out, glances at the screen. Then looks up at me. “Sorry, Sawyer, but I need to get this.”

“Of course.” Ignoring the twisting in my stomach, I hitch my thumb over my shoulder. “I’ll get out of your hair.”

“Thanks.” A distracted smile as she picks up the call, lifts her cell to her ear. “Hello? Oh, hey, baby. Are you all right?” A pause as I pull the front door open. “You want to come home? Of course, that’s okay. I’ll see you soon.”

I step outside, pause then call her name when she hangs up.

“Yeah?” she says, still preoccupied.

“Lock up, Pages, okay?”

She seems to shake herself. “Right.” A smile. “Of course. Thanks, Sawyer.”

More bile. More of my insides twisting. More…knowledge that tonight ending like this is probably for the best.