you’re…” He swallowed, searching my eyes. “I mean, after last night…”
I shuddered at the memory of both the mild freak-out and the fact that he’d seen it, and I shook my head. “I’m good. Trust me, if I couldn’t handle anything, I’d never last as a hockey player.”
“I know, I know, I just…” He sighed. “I’m sorry, I’m not trying to imply—”
“You’re trying to take care of your daughter, and you want to be sure I can do it.” I clasped his hand between both of mine and kissed him softly. “I’m good.”
He studied me for a moment, but must have decided I looked and sounded convincing, because he nodded, then kissed me softly. “Thank you so much.”
“Don’t mention it.”
“I’ll be back as soon as I can.” He started to go, but paused, a hint of a grimace on his face. “Full disclosure, she sometimes gets sick at this stage. She’s already thrown up a couple of times. Just, um, don’t be alarmed if it happens.”
I nodded. “Good to know.”
“Okay. I’ll…” He gestured at the door. “I’ll be back ASAP.”
He left, and I took a seat on the recliner. Dallas was asleep on the couch, and as I watched her, my heart beat faster than it had during tonight’s game. For the next hour and a half or so, she was my responsibility. What if she did get sick? What if she got worse? Devin would only be a phone call away, but God, please don’t let her get worse on my watch.
I could feel a freak-out tugging at the very edges of my mind, but I fought it back the same way I did when my team was counting on me. Right now, Devin and Dallas needed me to have my shit together.
While Dallas slept, I went into the kitchen (which was close, so I’d hear if she started moving around or needed help) and poured myself some ice water. I was kind of hungry, though I’d eaten right after the game. But Devin had said strong smells made things worse for Dallas. I had no idea what she was sensitive to, and didn’t want to pester him while he was driving, so I stuck with water for now.
When I returned to the living room, Dallas had rolled onto her back and had her hand over her eyes.
“Hey,” I said, keeping my voice soft. “The lights okay?” I’d only left a single light on in the kitchen, just so I could move around without crashing into something.
“Yeah.” She sighed. “It’s good. Thanks.”
“All right.” I wanted to ask if the bedroom would be more comfortable, or if she needed anything, but if sounds bothered her, then talking probably wouldn’t help. Speaking as quietly as I could, I said, “Just say so if you need anything.”
She nodded silently.
I sat back, resting my water glass on my leg. She was more or less okay for now. As okay as she could be under the circumstances. If Devin were here, he probably wouldn’t do anything differently. Would he? What could he do? He’d said there was nothing to be done except give her meds, keep things dark and quiet, and let things run their course. If she got sick…well, I’d done my share of partying, so I could handle that. If she just needed to lie on the couch in total silence, I could handle that too.
This must have been hard as hell for Devin. I’d seen the worry on his face the moment I’d started guiding Dallas off the ice earlier, and when I’d come home from the game, he’d been wiped.
There had to be something I could do. If not for her, for him?
But hell if I could figure out what.
I was starting to nod off about the time Devin came back. I’d tried like hell to stay awake in case Dallas needed someone, but holy shit, I was exhausted.
I’d left the front door unlocked, so when Devin came back around one, he walked right in. He had a backpack on his shoulder and a shopping bag in his hand.
“Hey,” he whispered. “How did it go?”
“Good. Good.” I gestured at Dallas, who was sound asleep on the couch. “She’s been racked out since you left.”
He gazed at her, and managed a smile. “That’s always a good sign. Maybe the worst is over.”
“Let’s hope.”
He put the bags down beside the couch, then motioned toward the kitchen. I got up and followed him so we could talk without disturbing her.