Page 46 of The Double Play

He watches me with the thoughtful gaze I’ve come to know well.

“When’s the last time you ate?”

“Oh, um…” I’m caught off guard by his question. “I had some pretzels this morning.”

He frowns. “I definitely should have come sooner.” He grabs a bag off the chair and a cup that looks to be filled with some kind of iced matcha drink. There’s purple foam on top, which I haven’t seen before.

“What’s this?” I ask as I take it from him.

“A breakfast sandwich and a lavender matcha. They didn’t have strawberry, or else I would have gotten that. You should eat a little before you go see your mom. It will steady your nerves.”

I nod, though I feel like I’m underwater while he’s trying to talk to me. He remembered my drink order. He brought me food and–I glance down at the hospital chair– “Are those yellow tulips?”

He scratches the back of his neck. “Yeah, I thought they might cheer you up. Or you could give them to your mom.”

I beam at him. The action feels foreign after all the crying I’ve done.

“They’re beautiful,” I breathe. “Thank you, Emmett. I’ll take them back to my apartment when I go to check on Raven.”

My bright mood dims a little at the thought of my sister. I still have to figure out where she’s going to live. It’s clear that my mom needs some serious help before she can be a suitable guardian, and my dad isn’t the best candidate. I take a deep breath in and let it out.One thing at a time.I look down at the sandwich warming my fingers. Food, then seeing my mom, then the rest.

What felt overwhelming before is starting to seem a lot more manageable. I catch a flash of a smile from Emmett. Maybe he was right, maybe this isn’t so bad when I have someone to lean on.

Chapter twenty-two

Emmett Foster

I’minovermyhead. I thought I was wading into a pool only now to realize I stepped off into the Mariana Trench. When I arrived, my first thought was that Hazel looked like she needed a hug. I’m not a touchy-feely person, but I know she is, and when I saw her, my instincts said that was the best way I could help her. So I did. That hug ruined me. If I thought her scent on my hotel pillow was distracting, having that sugary clementine smell on my clothes is going to be the death of me.

Her wide, green eyes staring up at me as tears streamed down her face uncovered a part of me that hasn’t seen the light of day in years. All I could think about was doing everything in my power to make sure she never cried for any reason other than happiness. That feeling made me go too far. I held her too close, touched her too intimately. I implied that she wasmine.

Because she is, some deep, primal part within me rears up. The same part that wanted me to capture her plush pink lips in a kiss when she tilted her head back earlier to look into my eyes. I push the thought down now just as I did then. Hazel doesn’t need me to kiss her, she needs me tobe here for her.I look up from my barely-eaten sandwich to glance at the woman occupying my every thought.

She stands out in this sad room of neutral colors. Her yellow t-shirt has tiny flowers on it that remind me of the wildflowers on my property. They always pop up in the most unexpected places. June tends to collect them throughout the spring and summer months, putting them in mason jars on window sills and gifting them to friends and family. It occurs to me that Hazel herself is like those flowers. Resilient and able to make people smile easily. Something I doubt anyone would say about me. Would she come to resent that the way Shelby did? I watch as she sips her matcha, a fragile smile on her lips. It’s like she’s afraid to be happy. I know the feeling.

“I think I’m ready to go,” she says as she sets her drink on a nearby table. Beside it is a half-eaten croissant sandwich. I eye it, earning a light laugh from her. “I’ll finish the rest, I promise. I think I should take it slow with how nervous I am.”

I nod. “Okay, I’ll allow it,” I say with a smirk so she knows I’m teasing.

She rolls her eyes in response and begins packing away the food. Once she’s done, she brushes crumbs off her shirt and cuffed jeans, then walks to the door. Where she abruptly stops. I stop behind her, giving her space.

“Everything okay?” I ask tentatively.

“This is where I got to every time I tried to leave this room. I never made it past this point.” Her voice is low and timid, unlike the bubbly woman I’ve come to know.

I step beside her and intertwine our fingers. “You didn’t have anyone with you before, but now you do.”

She smiles up at me, and this time, her eyes crinkle at the edges. The urge to kiss each corner of her eyes overcomes me. I try not to let the absurd desire show. Now is not the time to be thinking of such things.

Her hand squeezes mine. “You’re right. Thank you.” She places a hand on the doorknob, but doesn’t turn it. “Is it too late to say I’d rather go back to hugging instead?” she asks.

I chuckle. “Come on, Wildflower, you can do this.” I place my free hand over hers on the knob, and together, we twist it.

Her face is close to mine–too close–when she whispers, “I thought you didn’t like nicknames.”

I gaze into her green eyes. Our breaths are intermingled. Her sweet citrus scent is caressing my senses. The feeling of her skin on mine has my heart pounding. Her eyes flick down to my lips for the briefest of moments. I’d have missed it if I weren’t studying her. I force myself not to look at her lips in return. If we kiss, I don’t want it to be in a hospital waiting room while Hazel is sleep-deprived and stressed. I don’t want any reason for her to regret it. Not to mention, I still haven’t sorted my feelings out.

“I don’t,” I murmur.

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