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 heopened her dresser and pulled out a set of flannel pajamas.