I looked at him. I looked at the blanket. It was such a simple gesture, but it seemed so incredibly monumental.
I had about zero chill, and of course the shifter with enhanced senses instantly noticed it. He dropped his arm. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to make things uncomfortable.”
“No!” I said quickly, volume way too loud, and I had to check myself. “No, I’m not uncomfortable. I was just a little surprised. Areyousure you want to?”
Were we really talking about consenting to sit next to each other under the same blanket? It appeared so. There was nothing wrong with that. It was always good to be sure before invading someone’s personal bubble.
“I wouldn’t have offered if I didn’t.”
I believed him. Although I had helped Ben multiple times through panic attacks or panic-adjacent things, that didn’t mean I needed to infantilize him. If he said he was fine with it, then he was.
“Then I wouldn’t mind the extra warmth,” I admitted, and the way Ben smiled oh-so-saccharinely at me made me decide right then and there that I would never lie to him again.Ever.
“All right then,” he said, opening the blanket again. “Come on in.”
So, I did.
I shuffled forward and settled down right against Ben, folding my legs to the side. I had expected him to drop the blanket on me, but instead I felt the light pressure of his arm on me. Not quite hovering, but not the limb’s full weight either. It was like a wordless request, to check if I was all right.
For a moment, I was a teenager again, my stomach full of butterflies at the thought of a little PG skinship between me and my crush. Tentatively, I gave Ben my own wordless request by slowly—incrediblyslowly—leaning into his side to rest my head on his shoulder.
Oh my god, is this really happening?
I tried to focus on my breathing and the episode playing on his smart TV, doing my best to keep my heart rate down. It wasn’t just because Ben could hear it, but because I didn’t need to make myself sick over something so lovely.
Because itwaslovely.
Ben’s shoulder was all muscle and soft fabric from his T-shirt, making a nice place to rest my temple. And goodness! The heat radiating from him was beyond pleasant. It wasn’t overpowering, but it went right down to my bones. It was like holding a hot chocolate in my hands and resting by a fire without any threat of accidentally catching fire if I fell asleep. Even the tips of my fingers were warm, which never happened during the colder seasons.
“You okay?” Ben murmured, voice so low that it was barely on the edge of what I could understand. But the rumble of it vibrated through where we were touching, moving through my body like a wave determined to prove how much he affected me.
Which was a lot.
“I’m guessing you’re smelling or hearing something,” I said as calmly as I could, but it sounded a little breathless to my ears.
“Yeah. Your heart rate has picked up quite a bit and, uh...”
“And?” I prompted.
He shook his head. “Nothing.”
I got the feeling it wasn’t nothing, but rather some scent thing. Now that I knew he could smell when I was anxious or nervous or whatever, I was sure he could also smell how excited I was. It wasn’t like my panties were soaked, but it also wasn’t like I was at neutral either.
So, since I’d decided to always be truthful with Ben from now on, I figured I might as well jump in with both feet. “I haven’t been this physically close to someone who wasn’t a relative in a long time.”
There was one of those classic pauses that I’d learned was Ben trying to pick out his words.
“Me too.”
“Is it okay?” I murmured. Sometimes, he started out fine and happy with something, like our first date, then his anxiety took over. And boy, did I understand that.
“Yeah. It’s okay.”
“I’m glad.”
“Me too.”
Maybe neither of us knew what we were doing or what we even were to each other, but at the moment, things were good.
