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They were close but not touching as they rode up the elevator to the floor Evan’s bed was on. Together, they stepped out and headed down the hall. At the door to the room, she hesitated, and Hastings paused beside her.

“What are you thinking?”

“That this woman may be scared in there, and we need to be careful how we approach her.”

That cute furrow of his brow appeared, and she struggled with the need to reach up and smooth it away.

“You want to go in alone?”

Violet shook her head. “I don’t think it should be me. You’re his best friend, she may open up to you. I don’t know. I can go in with you but leave you with her after.”

He gave a slow nod. “Okay, but, just so you know, I wouldn’t be okay leaving you alone with a man.” He dipped his head and kissed the corner of her mouth. “Let’s go.”

The damn man was confusing the hell out of her.

He knocked on the door and pushed it open. Sure enough, there was a tiny woman in the chair by the bed. Stringy blondish-brown hair hung in a ponytail, showing her thin face. In her arms was a baby swaddled up in an old jacket.

One she bet was Evan’s.

“Who are you?” she asked, partially rising.

“I’m Hastings Rhodes. Evan is my friend.”

Suspicion and fear lingered in her blue eyes, and when she flicked them to Violet, Violet gave her a small smile.

“I’m also a friend of Evan’s. My name’s Violet. I think we could all use a warm drink. Coffee okay? Tea?”

Hastings brushed a hand down her back. “Coffee is perfect, babe. Thanks.”

“Of course. I’ll be back.” She stepped out of the room, closing the door behind her.

Casting a look over her shoulder, she sighed. That man calling me babe shouldn’t do a damn thing. Especially when I know it was purely to try to make the woman feel more comfortable.

Unfortunately, it had done a lot.

Hastings cleared his throat as he walked farther into the room. He positioned himself opposite the woman and her child, keeping Evan’s form between them. She watched him, her arms tight around the baby as she perched on the chair’s edge.

“How long have you and Evan been together?”

Mistrust overflowed in her gaze and she sneered.

“Why do you care? You never once looked in on him when he got back.”

Guilt gnawed at his gut. Casting his gaze around the room, he spied another chair and brought it to Evan’s side.

“I didn’t and I wish I could change that. Doesn’t alter how I feel about him.” He sat back. “What’s your name and how old is your baby?”

“The chick with you? That your girl?”

He nodded without hesitation. “She is.”

“How does she know my Evan?” No denying the proprietary claim.

“She’s the manager at Welcome Home.”

Concern filled her features. “Is he losing his spot? Because of this?”

Hastings leaned forward, resting his forearms on his thighs. “Because he was attacked? Or because the cops say he is doing drugs?”

Lightning shot from her eyes. “Evan doesn’t do drugs!”

He nodded, relief flowing through him. “I know that. I said it’s what the cops think.” Hastings glanced to the closed door then back to her. “Do you know what happened that night?”

She sucked her lower lip in and it nearly disappeared. “He was protecting me.” A sniff. “I’m the one who does drugs. I’m trying to be clean for the baby, but it’s hard.”

“I’m sure you’re doing the best you can. Do you have a place to stay while he’s here?” He shifted on the chair, looking up at the machines hooked to his friend. The numbers meant nothing to him. Sure, he could read them, but it didn’t give him any insight into how he was doing. “You and the baby?”

She wiped a hand under her nose. “No. He was working and saving money to get us a place together.”

Hastings frowned before he got himself under control. Thankfully, the door swung open after a cursory knock and Violet stepped inside, a tray of coffee in one hand.

Why was he struggling for money? He had plenty.

Violet walked to the woman and held out a coffee then put sugar and creamer beside her as well. Then she made her way to him and lifted a drink from the cardboard holder and held it in his direction. Making sure to brush his fingers along hers, he gave her a small smile.

“Thank you, Curls.”

She graced him with a small upturn of her lips. He curled his fingers around the Styrofoam cup to keep from tracing her mouth with the pads of those same digits. She moved away from him, and he barely stopped himself from turning to follow her with his gaze, kept in place by her giving his shoulder a brief squeeze.

He was pleased when she didn’t move far from his side. Taking a sip of the drink, he swallowed down the hot elixir.

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