Chapter 56
Tristen
At some point, I’m gonna need to eat something more than just toast with peanut butter but as I watch Emmett wolf his down like he hasn’t eaten in days, I can’t find it in me to care much.
Charline’s vitals are holding steady for someone fighting infection, and though she woke up long enough to look me in the eye, she’s been passed out the rest of the time.
I’m glad for both as Emmett glances at her with a swirling mix of hurt and hope that keeps my stomach in knots.
“Should we move her?” he asks after standing from his spot on the couch next to me.
It’s cleaner now than it was, most of the clutter and trash gone, and my chest aches for a whole different reason as Emmett grabs our plates and heads straight for the kitchen.
“No, she’s fine. The less jostling, the better.”
And now that I think about it … even at my house, he never left a dish sitting out or a pair of worn pants laying around. No shoes tossed aside. Not even a towel on the floor or Hatley’s chip bags on the coffee table.
I follow the sound of the sink running and prop up on the counter next to him. “You okay?”
He washes the plate. Dries it. Put it back in the cupboard. Then repeats it all with the second one.
It’s not until he stops in the middle of the floor, the towel twisting in his grip that he answers me with a weak voice.
“I’m tired.”
I push off in his direction and hold my hand out for the towel, intent on at least putting it up since I didn’t realize he was picking up everything else but then he surprises the fuck out of me.
He gives me his hand instead.
Swear, I could melt right here into the recently mopped tile when his warm fingers slide against mine, thin and trembling.
“Is that … not what I was supposed to do?”
My jaw makes a snap with how fast I shut it. “That is absolutely an okay thing to do.” With a smile and a burning in the backs of my eyes, I swipe the towel and toss it away. “It’s nap time, bubs. Let’s go.”
“What about her?”
I curl my fingers around his, interlacing the digits with my heart in my throat.
“Bobbie said she’d be here in an hour to check on her. She’s good for now.”
The slow nod he gives seems reluctant, even as he starts tugging me to the back of the house to a small bedroom. There’s barely enough room for a bed and a dresser, the door hitting the foot of the mattress.
It reminds me of the trailer I grew up in.
I gulp hard and force a blankness to my face.
“I promise, the sheets are clean.”
My gaze snaps to Emmett as he steps between the dresser and the mattress and turns to me, his cheeks flushed, hands twisting.
I grab them gently.
Doesn’t he realize that it doesn’t matter to me? That the only thing that matters to me is that his mom let him live like that? That she didn’t seem to care about him and his well-being?
That she made him clean it all up?
Instead, I bend slowly to meet his dropped gaze.
“You’re here, baby. That’s all I care about.”
He tries to hide the way his bottom lip wobbles by biting it. Then he nods, uncertain once again, and squeezes my fingers.
“You want inside or outside?”
I eye the twin sized bed and the wall it’s pushed up against and purse my lips.
In most cases, I’d take closest to the door. Just in case there’s a break in or a fire. If someone needed triage, I’d be there with just a roll from bed.
But this is Emmett.
Would he be okay being trapped in?
“Just get in,” I murmur low and use our joined hands to tug him closer. “I’ll weasel in around you.”
The lack of resistance on his part tells me just how tired he really is as he flops down and rolls to the wall.
Even with as small as he is, there’s not much room left for me, but I make it work as I settle on the edge and keep as much space for him as I can.
“Wait!” he says almost too loud with how close we are, our heads on the same flat pillow as I pull the blanket up over us. “What about your contacts?”
I blink, hand frozen in midair.
Fuck me, he remembered that?
My nod is slow and my stomach flips as I make my way back out to the duffel I left in the living room.
I make quick work of switching out my contacts for my glasses, blinking like a whole weight has been lifted from my eyeballs, a relief I didn’t know I needed settling over my face.
Jesus.
“Oh.”
“What?” I ask Emmett and shimmy back into the bed next to him and pull the blanket up to cover my chest. It leaves my whole ass hanging out, but he’s got enough to cover him.
“Those are … your … they’re—”
He swallows hard and points at my face with bunched brows.
Snorting, I settle my head next to his and it makes the frames on my face tilt. His head appears wonky, like he’s got a shadow in HD.
“They’re what?”
His cheeks take on a pinkness that shaves away some of the darkness he carries with him always.
“They’re …” he whispers, chewing on his lip, “cute.”
This time, it’s my face that goes hot.
“Thanks,” I whisper back sheepishly, the unexpected compliment settling somewhere deep in my stomach.
He thinks my glasses are cute. Holy shit.
“You’re welcome,” he says back near soundlessly.
We end up just … staring at each other with heavy eyelids and nearly touching noses, his breath tickling my lip.
I lift a hand up to scratch it at the same time he reaches across, our hands colliding in the small space between.
A laugh bubbles up my throat, the corner of his lips tipping the slightest, and I grab his hand. Flatten it against my jaw. Settle mine over his lightly.
Having his skin on mine feels like walking barefoot in fresh grass, warm and grounding.
I sigh into his touch, my eyes sliding closed.
“I know this wasn’t what you meant to do but, shit, it’s nice.”
He makes a low humming noise. “I just wanted to …” he trails off and swipes a finger across my cheek, the tip touching the frames leaning on my nose. “Sorry.”
“No apologies, bubbles,” I mumble, his digit still running gently over my cheek, his nail touching my glasses and running along the bottom curve. “Feels nice.”
His skin grows warmer. His touch gentle.
“Did you always want to be an EMT?” he asks softly and shifts closer, his feet pressing into mine.
“No, I wanted to race cars.”
The snort he lets out has my lips curling. “Race cars?”
His skeptic tone just makes my grin grow.
“Yup.” I peek at him with one eye. “But then someone saved my life, and I felt like I owed the universe something in return.”
“Oh.”
The room falls quiet, the barely noticeable beep of Charline’s heart monitor bleeding in from the distance.
It’s not quite loaded, the quiet, but there is a thickness hanging around our heads. The weight of something not yet spoken.
There are so many things that it could be that I can’t even begin to start figuring out a way to break it open. To find the level ground where the switch is flipped and Emmett spends more time smiling than frowning. Or, at least, doesn’t feel the need to hide beneath that hood.
How do I tell him he can come out now?
His touch on my cheek slows, then stalls, and when he doesn’t take his hand away, I peek at him.
Eyes closed, lips slightly pursed, his features softening.
“Sleep tight, baby,” I murmur soundlessly and close my eyes, too.