Page 27 of A Match Made In Evan
Then seeing her in the school’s office, looking impossibly young and sad and sickly, gave a tug to paternal instincts I never knew I had. I felt helpless, knowing that there’s nothing I can actually do to make her feel better. She has to ride out the bug by herself.
Has Jay felt like this every single time he’s had to collect her from sick bay all these years?
“You need to keep hydrated,” I insist, but she whines at the back of her throat and it stops me from getting up from my spot on the couch beside her. Instead, I open my arms, “Come cuddle?”
“I don’t want you to get sick, too.”
I shrug. “I’ve got plenty of sick leave up my sleeves. It’s a risk I’m willing to take.”
Despite being sixteen, Mia doesn’t need any more convincing. She shuffles over, leaning her head against my chest, still huddled under her blanket with her bowl held to her chest like a favoured teddy bear.
I stroke her soft, blonde hair —which is a little greasy at the moment, likely from her sweating and illness— and try to ignore the squeezing of my heart at how domestic this feels.
I’ve always been the fun ‘Uncle’, for lack of a better term. Aside from when she was small and I needed to stand in solidarity with James against her temper tantrums, I’ve never really had to do anything quite so…paternalwith Mia. I don’t think I ever even changed a nappy when she was a tot. She’s been my best little bud, a partner in crime (pranks) against her dad, and a kid I’ve loved but have only really ever experienced the ‘fun side’ of.
But this? This feels more intense, somehow. More serious. It hits me just how much James has had on his shoulders over the years, but also how much trust he has in me as his backup emergency contact.
I try not to dwell too much on the emotions that realisation stirs up.
We’re best friends and have been since we were nine. Of course Jay trusts me. It doesn’t need to mean anything more than that.
Itcan’tmean anything more than that.
Can it?
***
“Hey,” Jay shakes me awake gently, and it takes me half a moment to get my bearings.
I must have fallen asleep on his couch with Mia cocooned against my side. My arm is draped around her, holding her close, like I’ve seen James do countless times over the years. The rim of her plastic bowl is digging into my stomach, but I don’t dare move it or her.
“Hmm?” I hum as I try to rouse myself from a half-wakeful state. James’ face comes into focus in front of me. He’s crouching down, his grey-green eyes lined with concern.
“How is she?” he asks, keeping his voice so low it’s barely audible.
“Wha’timezit?” I ask by way of reply. He holds up his phone, the lockscreen showing a photo of the three of us taken at the musical in Brisbane a few months ago. My heart gives a tug at the wide grins on our faces.
We look like a real family…
Focus, Evan.
The clock says it’s just gone noon. I picked Mia up around ten. I can’t believe I fell asleep on the couch with her. “She’s been asleep about an hour,” I tell him, my voice gravelly from my nap. I glance at the empty bowl sandwiched between our bodies. “Hasn’t been sick again.”
My stomach does a funny little flip at the emotions that flicker in his gaze as he turns his attention to Mia. “Hopefully the sleep’ll help chase off the bug,” he muses softly. Then he looks back at me with gratitude and chagrin. “Thanks for getting her. I missed the calls. We had an early morning meeting and I totally forgot to take my phone off silent.”
“Don’t mention it,” I brush off his thanks. “I never get to do the ‘dad to the rescue’ thing. It gave me a better appreciation for how you must’ve felt for all these years.”
“I hate that she’s sick, but I do enjoy the cuddles,” he admits, reaching out to carefully brush some of Mia’s blonde locks back behind her ear. “It takes me back to when she was little.”
“She’s always been a sweet kid. Makes me wonder if I shouldn’t have settled down, had one of my own.”
I don’t know where that confession comes from, but it doesn’t sit right with me. Not entirely. Thinking back over the women I’ve dated, none of them would have worked for that particular fantasy, and not only because we obviously broke up. None of them gave me any warm, fuzzy, settling down feelings.
But sitting here with Mia and Jay does.
I shift uncomfortably as that thought crosses my mind. I’m starting to come to a conclusion about my feelings for my best friend, and it’s confusing as all hell.
I can’t deny that I feel some sort of attraction to him. The fact that I’ve had his cock in my mouth and have enjoyed it each and every time is probably a sign that I’m not as straight as I believed I was. And I’ve said time and time again that I love him, because he’s been my best friend since we were nine…
