Page 112 of Cross Check Hearts

The night air feels intensely cold after the warmth of her apartment. I stand outside her apartment for a moment, feeling lost and disoriented, before mechanically making my way to my bike. Each breath feels like inhaling broken glass, and I shove my helmet on before revving the engine of my motorcycle and pulling away.

The ride to Sawyer’s house passes in a blur of streetlights and wind in my ears. I didn’t even consciously decide that he’s the person I need to talk to right now, but ever since I joined the Aces, he’s always been one of the guys on the team that I respect the most. Maybe it’s because he’s a father himself, but he’s got a way of breaking things down, supporting me, and lighting a fire under my ass when I need it that makes me look up to him a hell of a lot, especially considering I never had a great dad of my own.

I don’t pay much attention to the route I take. I know where he lives, and I’m familiar enough with the Denver streets by now that before I know it, I’m standing outside the door of the new place he recently moved into with Violet, my knuckles rapping against the wood.

I work my jaw, scrubbing a hand through my hair as I wait.

“Declan?” Sawyer’s eyebrows shoot up when he opens the door and sees me, and his head snaps back a little as he registers the look on my face. I have no idea what he sees in my expression, but I probably look like a fucking zombie. “Shit, are you okay? Come on in.”

He leads me inside, and I collapse onto his couch, the cushions sagging beneath my weight. The familiar surroundings—Sawyer’s hockey memorabilia on the walls, the comfortable furniture, the faint smell of whatever he cooked for dinner—only highlight how unmoored I feel. The maelstrom of emotions finally breaks free, the dam inside me crumbling.

The story pours out of me in painful, halting sentences. I tell him about how I found Hannah alone in her apartment after she’d obviously been crying, about her insistence on ending things, and about my gut-twisting sense that something else is going on that she won’t share. My voice breaks multiple times, and I have to stop, breathe, and force myself to continue each time. Telling the story, even to a friend like Sawyer, is like reliving every excruciating moment.

My teammate listens without interrupting as I spill my guts, his brows furrowed and his expression serious as he sits across from me with his elbows braced on his knees. When I finally fall silent, emotionally spent, he leans back in his chair.

“Fuck, I’m sorry, man. I know this feels like the end of the world,” he says, rubbing a hand along his jaw. “But don’t lose hope. I have a feeling Hannah is going to come around.”

I look up, my fingers gripping the edge of the couch cushion. “Why would you think that?”

“Because she was crying too.” Sawyer shrugs, shaking his head as he gives me an empathetic smile. “When someone breaks things off because they genuinely don’t want to be with you anymore, they don’t fall apart when they’re doing it. They might feel guilty, but they don’t shatter. What you just described? That’s someone who’s hurting just as much as you are.”

“He’s right,” a soft voice adds.

Sawyer’s fiancée Violet enters the room as she speaks, with Jake trailing behind her. The little boy gives me a curious look before settling into an armchair with a handheld game. Violet gives me a sympathetic pat on the arm before she sits on the armrest of the chair Sawyer is in, her hand draping easily around his shoulder.

“Sometimes things move faster than people are ready for,” she continues. “But that doesn’t mean they don’t want it. Maybe she just got spooked.”

“Exactly,” Sawyer agrees, his arm sliding around Violet’s waist. “I don’t know what happened with the dean today, or if there was fallout from that fight with Aaron, but I’d bet my entire contract that this isn’t about you. Something else is going on with her.”

I want to believe them. Fuck, I want to so badly. I can feel a dangerous spark of hope trying to ignite in my chest, and I’m afraid to let it catch. Because if I’m wrong—if Hannah really is done with me—the disappointment might destroy what little of me is left.

I clench my jaw as I glance around the room, taking in the sight of Sawyer with his arm around Violet and Jake absorbed in his game nearby. The three of them are so clearly a family unit, whole and complete.

Something twists in my chest, and I rush up to rub at the ache as if it’s a muscle strain that I could massage away.

Just a few hours ago, I was imagining a future like this with Hannah.

“Maybe,” I say, but the word tastes like ash in my mouth.

Because what if they’re wrong? What if Hannah really is done with me? The thought constricts my lungs, making it feel like the breath is being crushed out of me.

Because I have no idea how to fix this. And no idea how I’ll survive without her.

Chapter48

Hannah

I shiver involuntarily as I lie back on the cold slab of the MRI machine in nothing but a thin hospital gown while the technician gets me set up. She’s been incredibly sweet and friendly through the whole process, so logically I know I don’t have anything to worry about, but there’s something about being forced to lie completely still in this whirring magnetic tube that’s sending panic through my veins.

“We’re almost done,” the technician says with a smile as she hovers above me. Her name is Melissa—she introduced herself earlier with a warmth that made me feel slightly less terrified. She slides some sort of contraption down that forms a little halo around my head, and I close my eyes as it beeps and comes to life.

“Is it normal to be this scared?” I ask, hating how small my voice sounds.

“Completely normal,” Melissa reassures me. “Everyone gets nervous. The noise is the worst part, but we have something for that.”

The noise is unsettling enough, so the less of this I have to see, the better. But closing my eyes only intensifies my thoughts, and they’re the last company I want right now.

I’ve been waiting a week for this appointment, and every single day has been torture. Between the anxiety around what the MRI might find and missing Declan so much it feels like my heart is being slowly cut to pieces every day he’s gone, I’ve been completely overwhelmed.

---