Chapter 16 Cole #2
As she drifts off, I caress her cheek with my thumb. When I’m sure she’s asleep, I bring her hand to my lips, brushing the lightest kiss over her knuckles before I gently tuck it beneath the blanket.
A flickering ember grows within me, filling my chest with a feeling I don’t know how to name. Taking care of someone else is foreign. She awakens this impossible to ignore instinct, one that feels like a completely natural role to step into for her.
I sit for a few minutes watching her before plugging in her space heater and adjusting it until I’m satisfied she’ll be comfortable.
I hover in the doorway, an unseen tether pulling taut with each step. I scrub my face with a short laugh for being weird. She’s fine. I’ll be back soon.
It doesn’t take more than an hour to go to the store for medicine to fight her fever and pancake ingredients. It’s early afternoon by the time I’m back at her place. I put her key on the labeled hooks by the door, then check on her.
Eve is still passed out. Snoring softly.
My mouth curves as I go to her kitchenette to look for a mixing bowl and pan.
Her apartment feels like her, from the vibrant mug collection I find in one cabinet to her mismatched set of measuring cups from two different sets to the stash of coffee outnumbering everything else in her pantry. I like being in her space.
Not long after I start cooking, she wakes up.
“You’re cooking?”
I turn from the frying pan to find her poking her head out from the hall. She looks more refreshed after her nap. I offer a crooked smile as she pads closer. She ditched the hoodie, but she kept my coaching jacket on.
“You wanted pancakes. I got you some tea too in case your throat is sore.”
“You made me pancakes,” she murmurs when she reaches my side. “Why are you the best?”
I switch the spatula into my other hand and rub her back. “Because it’s what you needed.”
A small noise catches in her throat. She ducks her head, covering her mouth. I pretend I didn’t notice.
“Hungry?”
“Yeah, they smell amazing.”
She steps back from the stove and sweeps her hair into a fresh ponytail. It draws my attention to her kissable nape until I smell something burning.
“Shit.” I scramble to flip the pancake. “Sorry. I was on a roll without scorching any.”
She releases a crackling laugh. “It’s okay. I actually like them a little burnt.”
“There’s medicine on the table and I refilled your water bottle,” I say while I finish off the last of the batter.
“I’m surprised.” She tears into the packet and pops the dose.
“About what?”
“You. You’re all domesticated now.”
“Because I know how to make pancakes?” I ask dryly, bringing the plate to the table.
She smirks. “For starters. You’ve come a long way from the grunting hockey heathen that used to eat all of our Lucky Charms before I got a bowl.”
It’s my turn to smirk. “Gotta be fast.”
“Oh my god, I used to get so mad when you’d say that and shake the empty box.”
“I know better now,” I say contritely. “Obviously I’d buy two boxes. You get your own.”
She grins. “Bet you’d still eat both.”
I pause from making her a plate to raise a hand. “I solemnly swear to share cereal fairly.”
It makes her giggle until she breaks down in a cough. I get her water thermos from where she left it on the counter.
“This is annoying. I hate getting sick,” she mutters.
“All the more reason to take it easy. You’ll get better faster than if you pushed yourself.”
“You’re right.”
I pull out her chair and set a plate in front of her. “Want a cup of tea? I wasn’t sure what kind you liked, so I got chamomile and ginger since the box said it was good for colds.”
She tucks a stray hair behind her ear. “Ginger tea sounds nice. Thank you.”
I open the box, then pause, searching her kitchen. “Do you have a—?”
“Kettle? An electric one. It’s in the same cabinet as the blender to the left of the sink.”
After it begins brewing, I lean against the counter. She cuts into her stack with more energy than she had before she rested.
The first bite makes her hum. “These are great. Totally hits the spot.”
My stomach tightens. I grip the edges of the counter to root myself in place.
“I’m glad you like them.”
She studies me, sliding her lips together. “I appreciate the things you do for me. This—” She gestures to her plate and the medicine. “—helping with my camper. I know I keep saying it a lot, but thank you. It means a lot to me.”
My heartbeat kicks up. I hold her gaze.
It means a lot to me, too.
“Of course, Evie. I’m here for you whenever you need me. There’s nothing else I’d rather do than be here right now making sure you feel better.”
Every word is the truth. I could be hanging out with her brother or researching new techniques to present to her dad for training. None of that would make me as content as I am when I’m with her. Maybe it should scare me how well we fit together.
The kettle beeps, breaking the moment. I pour her tea and steal some pancakes for myself.
“Oh my god!”
I jolt, worried she burnt her tongue. She splays her hands on the table, pinning me with an excited look.
“Don’t ask how, but this just reminded me of this show I got sucked into last night.”
“What was it about?”
Her eyes sparkle at my honest interest. She plays with the cuffs of my jacket while telling me about what she watched while she was working on her design. Her feet bump mine beneath the table when she swings them. I stretch my leg out, anticipating the contact.
Listening to her start, then stop herself to fill in backstory for context, then get off on another tangent before she meanders back to the original explanation puts a stupidly happy smile on my face. I don’t bother hiding it.
I like this. I like her.
Being with her, even when I can’t do more than hold her hand. Taking care of her. Having her lean on me.
No one’s ever relied on me before.
This might not be a big deal, but I’ve never had this.
My last relationship wasn’t serious. None of them have been.
It worked for me when I was in high school and college because I was focused on playing hockey.
Then when I traveled around without staying in one place for more than six months at a time there wasn’t a point to look for something long-term.
If I’m remaining in Heston Lake, maybe it doesn’t have to be like that anymore.
Eve’s the one I see myself opening up to about the big unsettling stuff that falls on our shoulders as we figure life out the way she has with me.
Being her sounding board and listening when she talks herself in circles to explain the unimaginable amount of thoughts running through her head stirs a warm and grounded feeling wrapped around my heart.
It’s something I want to hold on to.