He sighed. “I told her I don’t care what the guys think of me, but you see how she is. She’s as protective of me as I am of her.”
“Exactly. So why don’t you guys go? You can rest, go to the morning skate, and then swing by here when you’re done. I can Uber home in the morning to shower and change. I don’t mind. Really.”
Sawyer seemed hesitant. “I don’t like to leave her.”
“I know, but she won’t be alone, and I promise I’ll call if anything changes.”
“You sure?” His eyes sought mine, almost as if begging me to tell him everything would be okay.
“You’re not any good to her if you’re exhausted and stressed about the game.”
He blew out a breath and nodded. “You’re right. Let’s go back and tell her the plan.”
I turned to Lars. “You go ahead and go. Text me in the morning.”
He frowned. “I’ll go when Sawyer goes.”
I smiled. “All right. Come on. You can both say good night to Annie and then head home.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Lars
* * *
Mavericks Group Text
Wes: Sawyer, I’m sorry to hear Annie is in the hospital. If there’s anything you need—seriously, anything—you’ve got it.
Sawyer: Thanks.
Drew: Cancer fucking sucks. Nina said Annie is a beautiful, kind soul. We’re so sorry you guys are going through this. If you need to be with her instead of playing hockey right now, we get it. We’ve got your back.
Sawyer: I appreciate it.
Boone: Is she at Barnes?
Sawyer: Yes.
Boone: What’s her favorite color?
Sawyer: Purple, why?
Boone: Lots of purple flowers heading her way. You guys know what to do.
Sawyer: That’ll make her happy. Thank you.
* * *
I was able to order Annie’s flowers from my phone. The bouquet was called “Purple Paradise” and included flowers in every shade of purple. I would have sent her a hundred of them to brighten her day, but I knew the other guys were on it, too. So was everyone in the Mavericks’ front office and all of our coaches and trainers. Annie’s room would look like a floral shop by late afternoon.
My pregame routine just didn’t feel as important today. I sat in the ice bath for more than ten minutes, lost in thoughts of Sawyer and Annie.
It was so fucking unfair that she was dying. Seeing her shrunken body last night had shaken me. It had to be hard as hell for Sawyer to see his beautiful wife slowly being robbed from him.
“Food’s here,” Nash said as he walked past the tub.
I nodded, standing up and grabbing my towel. The locker room was nearly silent, because we were all down about Annie and none of us knew what to say to Sawyer.
What could anyone say? It didn’t matter that any of us were sorry. It wouldn’t help anything.
He sat on a bench, elbows on his knees and face buried in his hands. I knew from the way he’d looked at his wife last night that he’d trade places with her in a heartbeat right now, if only he could.
I felt the same way about Sheridan. She’d quickly become the most important person in my life. All my reasons for not wanting a relationship seemed stupid now. It had never been that I didn’t want a relationship; I just hadn’t met Sheridan yet. With her, there was no choice. I couldn’t even look at other women now. She was the one I’d been waiting for, without even knowing it.
As a team, we dressed, listened to Coach Gizzard’s pep talk—which was shorter and more subdued than usual—and took the ice.
Sawyer had spoken to Annie on the phone right before we left the locker room. She was feeling a lot better. His whole demeanor had softened during the call, and when he’d hung up, he’d told us that she loved all the flowers and wanted us to win tonight’s game. She was watching it from her hospital bed, and Sheridan and Hadley were there with her.
The fans roared as the puck dropped, and it felt a little surreal. I couldn’t stop thinking of Annie, and the way Sawyer’s eyes had teared up in the locker room earlier when his wife sent him a picture of the manicure Sheridan had given her.
A teammate had once said in an interview that he loved playing hockey because it made people happy. It gave people an escape when they needed it most and made them feel part of something bigger than themselves. Tonight, I thought of that during every play. I pictured Annie in her hospital bed, proudly watching her husband play in this game.
Tampa didn’t have a shot. Every man on our team was playing for Sawyer and Annie Cain tonight, and we won 3–0. Between that and the news that Annie was feeling better, the mood in the locker room was a little lighter after the game.