“You don’t have to make up for them,” I said. “You’re not the one who punched me.”
“No. But I would feel better taking you there myself and making sure you get settled.”
“I can look after him,” Evan said, his chin rising.
Channing nodded once to him. “Please,” he said again, focusing on Evan this time. “Allow me to help.”
Evan glanced between us.
“I can look after myself,” I told them both because I didn’t want Evan to have to do it, and I wasn’t sure we needed Channing putting his oar in right then.
Neither of them were paying any attention to me though. They were staring at each other. I saw the edge of Evan’s ability to cope coming out in the way he couldn’t look away from Channing’s electric gaze. I felt it in the too-tight grip he had on my hand.
When Channing turned his gaze on me, it was surprisingly warm. The strength I saw there would be nice to lean on, even for a moment. My introverted ass had been leaning on Evan all night and he was done.
“Fine,” I capitulated. “Let’s go.”
I needed to get out of there and Evan required some privacy to curl in on himself. Usually, I kept him uncurled by loving the stuffing out of him but tonight, I was too done myself. I had to get him home where we could both just… gods, I was tired.
Normally Evan and I walked to the rink so the ride in Channing’s truck was blessedly short. Jolting over the tracks was less than fun, but still better than the cold walk. We’d barely stopped before Evan had bounded out of the back seat and yanked open my door.
He was bouncing off invisible walls and I wanted to grab him and crowd him into a corner to get him to slow down, but no way was I about to move that fast.
“Lemme help you out.”
“He hit my face, not my legs, babe. Back up.”
“I got you,” he insisted.
“Evan.” Channing leaned over the steering wheel to see him. “Please get your brooms out of the back for him.”
“Oh, right. Yeah, that’s… I can do that.” And he was away again.
I sank into my seat. “Thanks for that. He’s just trying to help. He’s not used to being in charge of… things.”
“I noticed that.”
“Don’t judge him.”
“Not at all.”
“I don’t normally need looking after. He isn’t used to it.”
“And yet he’s been doing it all afternoon.”
I winced when Evan slammed the tailgate, then watched as he took off, brooms awkwardly gathered in one hand while he fished for his keys with the other. “Not really your business,” I muttered, “but I have to go take care of him.”
“Let him help you.”
“Stay out of it.” I opened my door, but he stopped me with a hand on my forearm.
“He wants to take care of you. He’s built for it. He just needs guidance.”
“What would you know about it, and why would you care?”
“Let me show you.”
“Let you get into his head, you mean?”
