I took my time grabbing his bags and our food,then snagged a couple of water bottles from the fridge for good measure. I wanted him to know my place, to feel safe moving around in it, but for now, this would have to do.
I could keep everything he needed at arm’s reach so he could breathe, because I couldn’t even begin to guess how he was feeling. If it had been me—if my space had been violated that same way—I didn’t think I would have handled it half as well.
“You’re quiet,” he said when I walked back into the room.
“Is that bad thing?” I walked over and set everything on the edge of the bed, then kicked my house shoes under the bed frame so Micah wouldn’t trip over them if he got up.
“Sometimes. Not tonight. Everything feels like a lot.”
I let out a sigh of sympathy as I climbed up beside him. He’d tucked himself into the covers, looking small amongst all my pillows. And ridiculously adorable, though I’d be keeping that thought to myself.
“Hungry?” I asked as I dragged everything closer. I set his burrito on his lap, and he traced the shape with the tips of his fingers.
“I probably should eat. Ben will be up my ass if I don’t.” He made no move to unwrap his food, and I wasn’t going to be the asshole who did it for him.
Instead, I pulled one side of the foil off mine and took a massive bite. His head turned slightly, like he was tilting his ear toward me, and his breathing wassoft and even. Maybe my presence was soothing. Maybe it was irritating.
He was hard to read.
“Thanks for this,” he said after a long moment. “I wasn’t expecting it.”
“Is what friends do,” I reminded him. I had a feeling he forgot that more often than he remembered he had people in his life willing to be there for him.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
MICAH
Normally,the sound of chewing irritated the fuck out of me. I rarely went out to eat with friends because by the end of the night, I wanted to punch them all in their mouth-breathing faces. But Vanya wasn’t obnoxious about it.
He ate politely, making small noises when he was happy and frustrated noises when it sounded like the foil got stuck on his tortilla. He was just so…present was the only word I could think of. I didn’t know what to make of it.
The closer he sat to me, the warmer I got. The more I wanted to lean over and touch him just to ground myself and remind myself that all of this was fine and normal. But I was still fucked-up over the texts Hunter had sent.
They were frantic, full of misspellings not even my screen reader could make sense of—like he was keyboard smashing out of rage. What I was able todiscern was that he thought Vanya and I had been kissing outside, just like Vanya had planned.
And Hunter was calling me a whore for it.
A slut.
A cheater—which was absurd, considering he and I had never been together.
He got creative with his insults, but I ended up turning my phone off before it was done reading them all out to me. It was clear from the stalking he was unhinged. It was clear from the threats he’d been making about me he was probably willing to do terrible things regardless of whether or not it got him into trouble.
I had a feeling that he didn’t give a shit if he ended up in jail, so long as he ruined me on his way down.
So I had no idea what to do.
I finished half of my burrito and a whole bottle of water, then hunkered down in the blankets.
Vanya shifted restlessly. It was clear he didn’t know what to do with his body or the fact that I was in his bed. I had half a mind to sneak out and sleep on his uncomfortable couch, but my body, my coach, my GM, and the team wouldn’t thank me if I fucked my back to oblivion before the next game.
I heard a soft click after a moment and frowned, turning my face toward Vanya. “Was that the light on or off?”
“Off. Is late.” His body shuffled downward, his toes grazing my calf. He pulled away like he was terrified to touch me, and I felt an ache in my chest.
I wanted closeness.
I wanted something I couldn’t quite name.
