He sits up. Moves further away.
“Because this—” He gestures between us, and I’m suddenly aware that I’m naked except for the flannel pooled around my waist while he’s still mostly dressed. “You deserve more than—”
Anger flares hot and sudden. Chases away the vulnerability. I yank the shirt closed.
“More than what?”
Luke runs his hands through his hair. Won’t meet my eyes.
“More than being taken in a hunting lodge while running for our lives. More than me.” He rises, takes five steps away, his back to me.
I pull the blanket around myself. Suddenly cold despite the fire.
“I’m not a child, Luke. Stop treating me like one.”
“This isn’t about age—”
“Then what?” My voice shakes. “Your guilt? Your fear? Or do you just not actually want me?”
He wheels on me. Eyes darker than I’ve ever seen them.
“I want you so much it terrifies me. That’s the problem.”
Silence crashes between us. Thick and painful.
“Then why did you stop?” The words come out quieter. Wounded.
“Because I can’t be another mistake you regret when this is over.”
I stare at him. Hurt morphing into fury. “You don’t get to decide that for me.”
“Someone has to think clearly—”
“Iamthinking clearly.” I’m on my feet now. “For the first time in my life, I’m thinking clearly.”
“Ember—”
“No.” I yank the thermal pants back on. Pull the flannel closed. “You saved my life. You came back for me. You kissed me like you meant it.”
“Ididmean it—”
“But not enough to actually follow through.” My hands shake as I button the shirt. “Not enough to let me make my own choices.”
Luke stands. “That’s not fair.”
“Neither is this.” I turn away. Settle on the cot with my back to him. Wrap the blanket tight. “Neither is you deciding what I deserve.”
He doesn’t respond. Just moves to a seat by the fire. Gun on his lap. Watchful despite the emotional wreckage between us.
Silence settles.
Hours crawl past.
Neither of us sleeps.
The only sounds: crackling fire, wind through pines outside, our too-careful breathing.
I stare at the wooden wall. Count knots in the grain. Try not to think about how his hands felt on my skin. How his mouth tasted. How close we came to something I wanted more than I’ve wanted anything.
