I move toward her, taking in her dark hair that is fanned out on the pillows, her lips parted as she exhales softly. She seems so at peace, her strong body curled up into a ball as she relaxes.
While I’m happy she’s sleeping and fighting off the sickness, I don’t want her sleeping on a couch all night and having aches tomorrow.
I know our pact says that we can’t touch one another, but if the blanket is a barrier between us, then I don’t think it counts, right?
Screw it.
I place a hand below her knees and slide another under her side, being careful not to wake her.
Carefully, I lift her into my arms, blanket and all.
She stirs against me, making my breath catch in my throat. I don’t want her to be mad at me for touching her.
“W-what are you doing?” she mumbles sleepily as her dark brown eyes blink into view.
“I couldn’t let you sleep on the couch all night. You looked so peaceful, so I didn’t want to wake you. Is this okay?”
She must be exhausted because she doesn’t put up a fight, giving me a mere, “Yeah,” before closing her eyes.
I move gently across the living room and down the only hall in her condo, assuming her room must be this way, doing my best not to wake her up by jostling her around too much. Something stirs inside me at having her in my arms, at having her body close to mine.
It’s a protective urge, one I’m used to feeling, but there’s something more that I can’t put my finger on.
I’m just taking care of her,I remind myself. Nothing more, nothing less.
Peeking into the first room on my left, I assume it must be her bedroom based on the trophies and medals I see propped up around the room.
Carefully, I lay her down on the bed, and she immediately snuggles into her pillow.
“Thanks,” she mumbles, not opening her eyes.
“Anytime,” I say softly as she drifts back to sleep peacefully.
Before leaving her room, my eyes catch on the countless medals and trophies on her shelves. There are photos of her on a dresser, one with her, Ian, and their grandparents. While the others span from what looks like her as a kid at Olivia’s age and up to her age now. In every photo she’s got this proud smile on her face, with a gold medal around her neck, while wearing a black or blue leotard.
It makes me smile to myself, seeing her life’s dedication come to fruition in the pride she wears and with the accolades surroundingher room. Her retirement seems odd, considering how according to the internet, she’s still in her prime and was projected to be a top contender at the next Olympics.
I’ve yet to ask her about her reasons for retiring, seeing as our friendship is growing and still new, but I can’t help but wonder what made her take the leap. I’ve been thinking about retiring more often these days, and since I don’t personally know many athletes who’ve retired, it’d be nice to hear from someone who’s recently made the decision.
Back in the living room, I debate on whether I should stay the night. Teagan seems to be feeling better than when I first got here, but a part of me doesn’t feel comfortable leaving her alone. What if she wakes up in the middle of the night nauseous, or she gets hungry and wants something to eat?
I’m not really tired, so I head for the kitchen to make the thing that usually brings me some sense of comfort. I rummage through her pantry and grab all the ingredients I’d need to make some cinnamon rolls. She said it makes her feel better, and I want that more than anything.
While we may only be friends who are going to raise a baby together, I plan on showing up for Teagan and our kid every way I possibly can. She grew up feeling disposable by her parents and I want to make sure she never has to wonder or question just how much I care about her.
Chapter 20
Teagan
Iwake up in my bed, confused for a moment as to how I got here, when a fuzzy memory defrosts in my mind.
Waking up in Quentin’s arms.
Feeling his strong body against mine as he carried me to my room.
The way I’ve never felt so safe.
I know I shouldn’t let him breach one of our rules, but I was so tired and I’d be lying if I said it didn’t feel nice to be taken care of.
