Chapter 29 Tristan #2
“Dammit, sparrow. Let Tristan take care of you,” Cole snarled, and her eyes widened. “He needs to,” Cole said softly, surprising me with his insight.
“Please, kitten? Just a little?”
Eva nodded and let me feed her a spoonful of soup.
She ate slowly, each swallow clearly an effort.
Cole adjusted her pillows, moved her hot water bottle closer, then repositioned the tissues.
“You’ve fluffed her pillows four times,” I said drily.
“I—”
“They’re fine.”
“Thank you,” Eva said softly, reaching out to hold Cole’s wrist. “They’re perfect.”
“Stop reassuring me,” he muttered, moving away from her and crossing his arms, his expression grumpy. “We’re supposed to be making you feel better, not the other way around.”
Eva’s eyes widened, and she smiled, the first genuine smile I’d seen since we got there.
“Good girl,” I murmured when Eva finished half the soup. “That’s perfect.”
Her phone buzzed—Alek. She held out her hand, and I reluctantly handed it to her.
Alek
What do you need?
Eva
Cole and Tristan are here.
I’m fine.
My phone buzzed immediately.
Coach
Keep me updated.
Make sure she rests.
“I need to shower,” Eva whispered, “but I’m dizzy.”
“Let me help.” I stood, holding out my hand.
She looked at it for a long moment, too fucking long, before taking it and letting me ease her out of bed. The blanket fell off her shoulders, revealing the sweatshirt she wore—one of my hoodies.
I swallowed hard but didn’t say a fucking word. She didn’t need me to get emotional about that right now. She needed me to take care of her without making a thing out of it.
Cole started to follow us out of the room, and I gave him a look. “Figure out how to change her sheets.”
“I know how to change sheets,” he said defensively.
“Do you, though?”
“Fuck you.” He stripped the bed while I walked Eva down the hall to her bathroom.
I kept my hands respectful. “Do you want me to come in with you?”
She shook her head. “I’m not—” I’d have killed to know how she was going to finish that sentence, but now wasn’t the fucking time.
“Keep talking so I know you’re standing, okay?”
She did. She rambled about classes, how Rory was stressed out of her mind and she didn’t know how to help, how Violetta’s boyfriend was an asshole, and how she was worried about Katie and Rami. Even sick, barely able to stand, Eva was worried about other people.
Then, I heard crying—soft, defeated sounds that made me want to drop to my knees and promise her that everything would be okay, that nothing would ever hurt her ever again.
“Eva?”
“I’m fine,” she said softly. “Just tired.”
“Take your time, kitten. I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.”
I wanted to be in there with her, wanted to hold her up, wash her hair, take care of her the way she deserved, but she hadn’t given me permission, and I refused to push for more than she was willing to give.
So, I stayed outside the door and made reassuring noises when she began to ramble again, so she’d know she wasn’t alone.
The water stopped, and then I heard the sounds of her brushing her teeth. She came out a minute later, wrapped in a robe, looking so exhausted, she could barely stand.
Her hair dripped onto the wooden floor, and I reached around her to grab a towel and gently soak up the excess water before carefully wrapping it on the top of her head.
She leaned into me, and the weight of her trust made my hands shake.
“I’ve got you,” I murmured. “I’ve got you, Eva. Always.”
We came back to find the bed remade, pillows arranged neatly, with one corner of the sheets turned down. Cole’s eyes raked Eva up and down, and then he opened her dresser and pulled out a set of flannel pajamas.
“Here,” he muttered, shoving them at her.
“Give me a minute?” she asked, and instead of leaving, we turned our backs to her.
“Okay,” she whispered a moment later, and we turned to her again.
We tucked her in together. Cole checked her temperature immediately.
“101.8. Coming down.”
“That’s good.”
“It’s not down enough.” He was already checking his phone alarm, making sure it was set for an hour from now.
“Cole—”
“What if it spikes again? What if the medicine wears off, and we’ve fallen asleep?”
“Then we handle it.” I squeezed his shoulder. “We’ve got her. She’s going to be okay.”
He nodded but didn’t look convinced, already adjusting her blankets again.
“You don’t have to stay,” Eva whispered, half-asleep already.
“Go to sleep, sparrow. Stop fighting for one fucking night.” Cole’s voice was raspy and tired.
Cole jerked his chin at the chair, telling me to take it. He settled onto the floor beside her bed, resting the back of his head against her mattress.
Eva’s breathing evened slowly. The fever made her restless, shifting in her sleep. Every time she moved, Cole tensed, ready to help if she needed anything.
I sat there in the dark, listening to her breathe, and let myself feel everything I’d been holding back—the fear, the desperate need to fix this, to prove I could be what she needed, the love I had no right to feel for someone I’d hurt so badly.
Around three, she woke, blinking at us in the darkness.
She reached down and touched Cole’s hair, gentle and tentative.
“Go back to sleep, sparrow,” he said softly. “We’re not going anywhere.”
“Thank you,” she whispered.
My throat closed around everything I wanted to say to her. “Always, kitten.”