His jaw locked, cutting the thought short.
The truth of it sat heavy between us.
All his worry was for his brother, but it seemed to me that Eric was the one fighting. Holding the fear, the responsibility, the weight of everyone else’s emotions, refusing to let it knock him down.
And somehow, that made him even stronger.
Without thinking, I pushed my sandwich aside and covered his hand with mine.
He looked up, eyes darkened by all the things he hadn’t said. A second later, his fingers shifted beneath mine, turning decisively, closing around my hand with quiet certainty.
We stayed like that, hands joined, the cafeteria noise dulling until it faded into something distant and unimportant.
No words were needed. The moment was easy and natural.
Until it wasn’t.
The world edged back in the moment his thumb began to move, brushing the back of my hand. The contact sent a jolt up my arm, sharp enough to steal my breath.
I watched his thumb press into my skin, the strength in his forearm obvious even at rest, muscle defined without effort. Veins popping in a way that was far too sexy for a hospital cafeteria.
With more discipline than should’ve been necessary, I dragged my gaze up to his face.
The strain had eased. His jaw wasn’t locked anymore. His mouth had softened. Hair slightly mussed, like he’d run his hand through it without thinking. He looked calm and anchored.
Dangerously attractive.
There was no point pretending otherwise. The pull was immediate and undeniable, and the timing made me feel like an absolute asshole for noticing it at all.
He’d just opened himself up in ways most men never did. And instead of restraint, my body kept supplying unhelpful suggestions about how much better it would feel to be closer. About how nice it might be to let his quiet control take over.
That was my cue.
I needed to leave before I did something ruinous. Like lean across the table and kiss him.
I started to pull away, but Eric’s grip tightened, dragging me forward, stopping my escape and bringing us face-to-face.
His eyes held mine with deadly focus. “Where do you think you’re going?”
In another setting, I’d have called his voice seductive.
“What?”
“Where are you running off to?”
“Running off? Nowhere, I just thought…” My gaze bounced around, taking note of all the exits. “I should get back to my dad’s room. Check on him.”
The words tumbled out, abrupt and clumsy, and I winced at how easily I’d made my own mess sound more urgent. Again.
“How’s he doing?” Eric eased his grip but didn’t release me.
“I don’t really know. Some moments it feels like he’s slipping fast, and then he rallies and sounds almost like himself again. It’s harder to watch than I expected.”
“Can I meet him?”
I blinked at him. “Why would you want to do that?”
“Because you’ve met my family. And because I don’t think you should have to do this alone.” His unyielding gaze held mine. “You’re here by yourself, aren’t you?”
