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CHAPTER FORTY

SAWYER

L ife has this funny way of creeping up when you least expect it, blowing your cozy, safe bubble apart in a matter of seconds.

One second, I was swooning over Jack’s incredible slap shot and congratulating Archer on yet another shutout, and the next, I’ve got Coach Morgan standing in front of me. All the blood has drained from his face as he hands me his phone.

His mouth is moving, and I can tell he’s forming words, but I hear nothing. Only the murmur of background noise as my conscience screams that whatever has happened cannot be good.

I take the phone from him, staring down at Felicity written across the screen. That’s his wife. What’s she doing, calling me directly after a game?

Jack wraps his arm around my shoulders, saying something to his stepdad, which, again, I can’t process.

“Hello?” I say, my greeting an auto response.

“Sawyer, it’s Felicity, Jon’s wife. I’m at the hospital with Collins.”

At the sound of her panicked voice, I come to, adrenaline switching from fight to flight.

Shit , it’s happening again, isn’t it?

I’ve fallen in love with a woman, and she’s being ripped from me in the cruelest way possible.

Sophie’s face as she lay in the morgue flashes in front of me, and instantly, I’m leaning into my center, relying on his steady arm to keep me from collapsing.

“Is she …” I trail off, my numb brain unable, or perhaps unwilling, to finish what I’m saying. I don’t know how to complete my sentence since I don’t really want an answer.

“It’s not Collins,” Felicity clarifies, voice still frantic. She blows out a long breath, trying to center herself, likely for her own benefit as much as mine. “It’s Ezra. He got brought into the ER a few minutes ago. We’re only a five-minute drive from the arena.” She pauses for a second, taking another steadying breath. “He got into a motorcycle accident with a friend. Everyone looks to be okay, but he does have some cuts and bruises.”

All I hear is “motorcycle accident” as I look up at my coach, a wave of nausea that hasn’t hit me in many years tearing through my stomach. I swallow down the urge to empty the contents all over his shoes.

“Pads and skates off now, and let’s get to the hospital, stat,” Archer booms from beside me, already sitting me on the bench as Jack works on my laces.

Jon takes the phone from my hand since I’ve lost all ability to speak. “He’s going to be fine,” he says, trying to soothe me as best he can.

“Sawyer.” Jack’s voice is commanding.

He snaps his fingers in my face, breaking my panic-induced trance, and I blink a couple of times. He snaps them again, and I’m back in the room.

“Sawyer, can you hear me? You’ll be in Brooklyn Central ER in the next few minutes.”

I jump to my feet, practically knocking Jack out in the process as he crouches beside me. “Fuck the next few minutes. I need to be there now,” I roar, ripping at my jersey and pads. “Get me there—now.”

* * *

Thanks to postgame traffic, it took ten minutes too long to reach the ER room.

I barrel down the hallway toward where Ezra’s being treated.

“Collins is with him right now. He’s fine, Sawyer. The nurse just said he’s fine.” Archer pulls me to a stop, his hand wrapped around my upper arm in a firm grip.

Other than in the hotel room, I can’t recall a time when he’s looked so serious, like he’s demanding my attention, and calm. He has the former from me, but not the latter.

“Look, you cannot barge into his room like this, all guns blazing. The kid has just been in an accident, and he’s likely already scared shitless.” His eyes soften, and he brings a palm to my other shoulder, squeezing it gently. “I get it, man. Of all people, I get why you would have such a visceral reaction—you know what it’s like to lose the person you love and in the worst and most dramatic of ways.”

He tips his head in the direction of Ezra’s room. “Behind that door, you’re going to find a son likely petrified of what’s happening around him, still in shock and probably shitting himself that his dad is going to ream him out for riding a bike when he knows he shouldn’t have. You’re also going to find your girlfriend in a mess. My best guess would be that she’s blaming and convincing herself that he wouldn’t be here right now if it wasn’t for her and their shared love of riding. She’s wrong, obviously, but neither of them needs anything other than the controlled Sawyer I know is in there.”

He moves his hand from my upper arm to the center of my chest, and I draw in a deep breath and exhale, relaxing my shoulders.

Archer smiles in response. “That’s good, man. That’s what they need right now.” He looks to the room they’re both in. “Are you ready to go and be the cool, calm, and collected captain I’ve witnessed on the ice for years?”

“Yeah,” I reply, emotion turning my voice hoarse.

He taps my shoulder and turns to walk away.

I grab him by the upper arm this time, stopping him in his tracks. “Hey.”

His eyes wear a foreign gloss to them. “Yeah.”

“Thank you,” I say, never anticipating I’d share a moment like this with my crazy-ass goalie.

Apparently, this guy has more layers than I gave him credit for. Or perhaps that’s how he likes to portray himself. Either way, I’m grateful because I needed the check-in. Someone needed to ground me before I burst into Ezra’s room, doing exactly what Archer told me I couldn’t.

“You’re welcome,” he replies, the sheen across his blue eyes growing more obvious. He blinks rapidly, attempting to push down his emotion. “Now, go see your family.”

“Sawyer!” Collins leaps to her feet the moment I push through the door to Ezra’s private treatment room.

She rounds Ezra’s bed and throws her arms around my neck, and I immediately feel the tremble in her body.

I pull her close, desperate to let her know it’s okay and if she is blaming herself in any way, she absolutely shouldn’t.

“Hey, Baby Girl.” My voice is calm and quiet, exactly how I want it to be right now.

Her face is free of makeup, and when she unwraps her arms from around my neck, I see the black staining the cuff of the jersey I gave her to wear tonight. She’s been wiping at her eyes, and my heart breaks because I know she’s been crying without me to comfort her.

She cocks her head toward Ezra’s bed. “He’s sleeping. They gave him some pain relief for the stitches on his left knee.”

Despite my best efforts, the adrenaline kicks up, and I push a shaking hand through my unwashed hair. “He needed stitches?”

A tear falls from her right eye, and I reach up and swipe at her cheek.

“Not many, and it wasn’t serious. The doctor wanted to be sure any risk of infection was reduced, and this way, the healing process will be faster. They’re dissolvable too. I offered to hold his hand, but he said that wasn’t cool. Once it was over, he wanted me to take a picture for him to show his friends at school. He said it will up his status on campus.” She chuckles, but I can tell it’s more out of awe for Ezra’s bravery than it is humor.

I laugh quietly, finding a sense of relief in her words. “What else did the doctors say? How did it happen?”

I stop myself from asking why he was on the bike in the first place. This isn’t her fault. Last time he rode a bike with a friend, she had made the dangers one hundred percent clear to him.

She drops her head to the floor, guilt flowing from her in waves.

“No, don’t do that. Look at me, Baby Girl.” I tip her chin up and demand her attention.

I’m not allowing her brain to go there.

No fucking way.

Collins swallows thickly, eyes flicking to my son as he sleeps peacefully and then back to mine. “He told me that he, Nate, and some other boys finished up on a Fortnite battle when one of them got a text from a kid named Brett, who is several years older than Ezra but they know each other through playing video games. He asked if they wanted to meet them at the arcade. Allegedly, they all snuck out of the house when Nate’s mom, Imogen, wasn’t looking.”

“Jesus, she must’ve been going out of her mind when she couldn’t find them.”

Collins shakes her head. “That’s the thing. They’d had dinner, and she assumed they were all hunkered down for the night in Nate’s room, gaming. That’s where she last saw them. She didn’t realize what had happened until Nate called her at the same time Ezra phoned me.”

She bites down on her bottom lip, stressed and overwhelmed.

I lean in and kiss her, brushing my lips softly over hers. Sometimes, words aren’t enough, and this is one of the moments—she needs to feel that none of this is on her.

Pulling back, she starts talking again. “Anyway, when they got to the arcade, Carter—who I told you about the last time …”

She trails off, and I nod in understanding.

“He was there and offered to give Ezra another ride on his bike. When he was admitted, he was wearing a leather jacket and gloves. Both were too big for him since they belonged to one of Carter’s friends. Supposedly, Ezra refused to ride unless he lent them to him, along with his helmet. He said his ‘stepmom is an expert biker, and that’s the only way to ride.’” Something like pride fills her face, color flushing her previously pale complexion.

Another tear slips down her cheek, and this time, she pushes it away.

“Unfortunately, jeans don’t provide the same level of protection, and that’s why he needed stitches. The doctors said without the jacket and helmet, it could’ve been much worse.”

I scrub a hand over my jaw, all my senses stinging as Collins blurs in front of me. “How did he fall?”

Between us, she takes my hands into hers. The warmth of her soft palms is exactly what I’m craving.

“They took a ride around the parking lot. Carter is inexperienced and consequently doesn’t expect drivers who aren’t anticipating bikes. A woman was backing out of a space and didn’t see them. She clipped his back end and knocked them off-balance. Ezra put his hand out first, and the glove did its job, but then his knee hit the asphalt, followed by his head.”

I know the arcade they were at since that’s where a lot of the high school kids hang out. I take Ezra there sometimes, and we play air hockey and shoot a few hoops.

The accident is vivid as I imagine it in my head, but mainly, all I can see is the look on Ezra’s face, along with the terror he must’ve felt.

“He called me just as the ambulance was arriving. He knew you were still on the ice.” She releases one of my hands, cupping my face as her eyes search mine. “At this point, he’s more worried about how much trouble he’s going to be in. He thinks you’re going to yell at him.”

Collins swallows again, though it’s more of a gulp. “I know I’m not his mom, and I have no right to tell you what to do. Hell, he likely wouldn’t have been on that bike if it wasn’t for me being in his life. But please don’t give him a hard time. Yes, it was the wrong decision to accept the ride; however, insisting on protective gear likely means he’ll be leaving here tomorrow with clear scans and not undergoing some kind of surgery or even being treated for a head injury. I think he’s learned enough lessons today.”

Her tears are flowing freely now, and it breaks my goddamn heart to see her this way.

I bring our joined hands to my lips, kissing across her knuckles. “I never want to hear you utter those words again. You are not to blame for Ezra getting on that bike. Kids sometimes make silly mistakes. Without you, he would’ve been wearing only the jeans and hoodie he’d left the house in earlier. My boy hangs on your every word—he always has. He listened to your warning and made the right call when it really mattered. Because of you .”

My mouth moves from her knuckles to her lips. “He loves you. I love you, and I’m so damn lucky to call you mine. From the second I laid eyes on you at Lloyd’s, I knew you were something special. I could see it beneath the layers you wore. And I was right to trust my gut and pursue you, even when you kept pushing me away. I never want to live another year of my life without you by my side, beside Ezra’s too.”

I press my lips against hers, speaking into her mouth in the hopes that she’ll digest my sincerity. “And I know if Sophie were here right now, she would thank you for being precisely the woman you are.”

A salty sensation trickles into my mouth. Even her tears taste incredible, although I never want to experience them again.

I’ll make it my life’s mission to protect Collins Mackenzie at all costs—at least until I change her name to Bryce, and then I’ll be her keeper for life. And after I’m no longer on this earth, my protective arms will still be around her.

“Don’t cry, Baby Girl,” I plead. “It’s all okay, I promise.”

She shakes her head softly, another tear passing between us. “I don’t think these are tears of sadness, Sawyer. More of realization and relief.” She pauses, swallowing once more. “Because I love him. I love Ezra with my whole heart. I think I have for a while, but I didn’t know how to say it, or maybe I didn’t even recognize that feeling.”

Nothing in her declaration surprises me—I knew she loved my son. I worked it out right about the time my own heart fell for her.

“And the other side of my heart? The one that beats at the same rhythm, but for so many different reasons? That belongs to you. To my boyfriend and the only man I want. I’m as deep with you as you are with me; I know I am—I can feel it. The difference is, I don’t want to deny or hide it anymore. I’m in love with you, and it feels so fucking good.”

There’s nothing but the soft sounds of my boy’s breathing as we stand in front of each other, our bodies glued together.

“Just one last thing though, okay?” she whispers.

“Anything,” I say. And I mean it. I will do anything for her at this point. There are no limits when it comes to my love for this girl.

“You asked me not to be upset, but I’m not the one crying anymore, Sawyer. The last tear was yours.” She swipes at my cheek and smiles, a promise of forever clear in her deep eyes. “So, no more tears, all right? They aren’t needed because we made it. You achieved exactly what you’d set out to do—you caught the girl you’d wanted and made her yours.”