Felton yawns again.
“Sleep. I’ll make sure you’re up in plenty of time for the game.”
He nods, his eyes fluttering closed.
“You’re in goal tonight, aren’t you?”
He nods again, his eyebrows knitting together.
I run my fingers through his hair. “Sleep. Don’t worry about it now. Just catch up on your rest.”
I’m not sure if he wants me there or not, but I stay until he falls asleep, gently smoothing my fingers through his hair. My gaze is locked on his face, reading every little movement and muscle twitching. I can tell when he’s thinking of something unpleasant and when those thoughts fade away. I know the moment he falls asleep, though his expression doesn’t smooth out again. Even in sleep, he’s hurting.
After a few minutes, I leave the bedroom, shutting the door behind me. I don’t want to leave him for my morning run, so I stick with the treadmill today, even though it’s not nearly as satisfying without the crisp air against my skin. Opening the window my treadmill is facing only helps a little.
When I’m finished, I check on him before heading to the shower. He hasn’t left my mind all morning. Hell, he hasn’t left my mind since he was getting railed by my friends. One man should not consume my thoughts like this.
I prepare a protein shake and go about my morning until I’m ready to prepare lunch. While I do, there’s an internal debate on whether I should wake Felton up to eat or not. Since I made enough for two people, I decide he needs to get up to eat. Which is only the responsible thing to do since he needs to consume some calories in preparation for tonight’s game.
He’s still fast asleep when I step into the guest room and kneel next to him. I don’t speak, but gently brush my fingers through his hair again. It’s soft. Smooth. After a minute, he stirs and his dark eyes blink open.
“Hey,” I say. “I made some lunch, and you need to eat so you have some energy for the game tonight.”
Felton sighs and nods. Silently, he gets up. I watch him veer off from following me and into the bathroom. Since it feels creepy to wait in the bedroom for him, I meander in the hall. My excuse is simple—I’ve never shown him around my house. I’ve led him to this room and the living room, but both times he’s been here, he hasn’t exactly been in a clear state of mind.
Not that my house is enormous. He’ll likely find me easily enough.
My internal debate ends when Felton steps out of the bedroom. His shoulders relaxing when he sees me has me convinced that I made the right decision.
Generally speaking, I eat most of my meals at the dining room table. Otherwise, why have a dining room at all, right? Our places are already set with a large stuffed sandwich, full salad, small bowl of cottage cheese, and I made a protein shake for Felton to make sure he gets enough in his diet today.
There’s a soft smile when he looks at what I’ve prepared for him. For a few minutes, during which I watch Felton devour his food, we don’t speak. But eventually, he looks up, eyes meeting mine. His cheeks are slightly flushed.
“I’m really sorry for showing up here like I did this morning,” he says.
I shake my head. “It’s fine. I’m just glad you didn’t drive.”
“No. I drove home from the airport, but don’t remember it. So when I realized I couldn’t be alone right then, I was smart enough to order a rideshare.”
“Good.” I wait until he’s eaten a few more bites. “Do you have your phone on you?”
Felton’s hand disappears, and I imagine he’s checking his pockets. He nods.
“You said that you snuck out in the night, right?” Felton nods. “And no one called when they didn’t find you there?”
At first, his shoulders stiffen, but they relax again. “My battery died as I climbed into the rideshare. It’s still dead.”
“Ah,” I say, feeling slightly better about that. What kind of parent would find their child gone and not be concerned? Even if they are an adult child.
Then again, I’ve already come to the conclusion that he has shitty parents.
“You can plug it in while you sleep some more,” I tell him.
His chewing slows as he stares at his plate. When he swallows, it’s almost audible. “I kind of don’t want to turn it back on.”
I nod and am ready to support that except for something important. “That’s your only line, isn’t it?” Felton nods again. “The team needs a way to get in touch with you. Even if it’s through email. Do you have a tablet?”
“Yeah,” he says. “At home.”
