“My father,” he muttered darkly.
“You did the right thing,” I said quietly, “defending her.”
Cole’s eyes shot to mine in the rearview mirror.
“She needs more of that in her life,” I continued and was gratified to see his shoulders slump, as if I’d yanked the tension out of him, allowing him to relax into the leather of the back seat.
Silence weighed on all three of us as we took the elevator up to my apartment. I breathed deeply before swiping in and made a mental note to give Cole and Tristan a key too, and to introduce them all to the reception on the ground floor.
The moment the door opened, Eva flew into my arms—into our arms. She fluttered between the three of us, kissing my jaw, stroking Tristan’s face, then stopping when she saw the cut on Cole’s cheek.
“I’m fine,” he said, capturing her hands in his. “I promise.”
“Are you sure? What happened?”
“I’m sure,” he said, and kissed her forehead.
“I ordered pizza,” she said, “using your card.”
Cole’s eyes lit up in a tentative smile, and he tugged her in for a brief hug before letting her go. “Good.”
Ten minutes later, all three of them were in my clothes, and I could not stop the satisfaction that swelled in my chest.
Mine.
Fucking hell.
Eva curled up to me on the couch, her legs underneath her as her fingers skimmed up and down my chest.
I caught her hand and held it still over my heart. “Hey. They’re home, and it’s fine.”
By the time the pizza arrived and we’d finished eating, Cole and Tristan were falling asleep on the couch.
Eva still seemed full of nervous energy, flitting to and fro, stroking her fingers over our faces, our arms, our hands, as if we might disappear into thin air if she didn’t ground us through touch.
Even Cole, who looked at her with wonder every time she checked him over, like a new injury might have appeared when she looked away.
Finally, the pizza was cleaned up, and conversation sputtered to an uncomfortable halt.
Eva dropped to her knees in front of me.
“Sir,” she breathed. Tristan looked up sleepily then bolted upright when he saw her.
Eva’s hands stroked up my thighs.
“Malyshka,” I rasped. “Whatare you doing?”
“Thanking you,” she murmured, reaching for my belt. Tristan’s eyes widened, and he nudged Cole, who sat up, blinking then stiffening.
“Eva.”
Her fingers deftly unbuckled my pants, and then I grabbed her wrists.
“Eva, stop.”
Her eyes shot to mine, vulnerable, and I watched her face crumble, her eyes filling with tears she refused to let fall. Embarrassment stained her cheeks red.
“But you— Oh my god. You don’t. I’m so sorry. I misread—” If my heart weren’t aching so badly for her, I might be amused by her incoherence. “Fuck, I’m sorry.” She crumbled to her feet and backed away.