Before I could escape and leave Aster to wonder if he’d imagined me imposing on him, he stretched in the circle of my arms. His back muscles pulled taut across my stomach. For a second, his bum pressed into my groin.
Aster shucked off blankets and he shuffled to the edge of the bed, disguising my choked moan. He sat up and looked at me, his eyes widening when he saw I was awake.
‘Morning, Callum.’ He smiled, one cheek crisscrossed with lines from his pillow.
‘Aster, was it okay that I slept here last night?’ If it wasn’t, I needed to apologise and make it clear it wouldn’t happen again.
‘It was fine.’ Aster stood and walked to the bathroom. ‘After enduring a couple of hours on the sofa, I canunderstand the appeal of snuggling up with me. Maybe we should share the bed from now on.’
I reeled back, appalled Aster would assume I’d muscle my way into his space to avoid discomfort.
His face fell, then he turned away. ‘Don’t worry, bud. I won’t make you sleep with me, but now I know how horrible that demon-sofa is, there’s no way I’m hogging the bed.’
The bathroom door swished shut behind him. I lay back as the shower started up. Aster couldn’t dictate our sleeping arrangements. Unlike me, he slept deeply. He hadn’t woken any night when I’d carried him through from the sofa. I didn’t expect that to change.
I rubbed my head on the pillow to clear the fuzz of sleep. Aster said he hadn’t minded me climbing into bed with him, claimed he was fine with it happening again, but I wasn’t about to repeat it. He’d said before it was weird that Bonnie hadn’t provided a place for him to stay that had two beds. No matter how wonderful it was to sleep dreamlessly and wake with a warm body curled in my arms, I wasn’t going to force Aster to do anything he was uncomfortable with.
The shower shut off, and I fled into the main room. Aster wouldn’t forget last night but the fewer reminders, the better. He was bound to feel awkward if I lazed around in bed while he changed.
I distracted myself from imagining pale skin dotted with freckles by checking on the kid. He wagged his tail as I examined his legs and listened to his heartbeat. Hale and strong.
‘His name is Tim,’ Aster said from the bedroom doorway after he’d gotten dressed.
I scratched under the baby’s chin. ‘He needs a name. He won’t be wild if he’s hand reared by us.’
Us.Notme. Aster couldn’t possibly know how much of arelief it was that I wouldn’t have to shoulder this burden alone, that he wouldn’t let me.
‘You’ll call him Tim then?’ Aster wandered over to the kitchen and started prepping a bottle. I watched him measure out formula and add water from the kettle, my chest swelling with something warm and bright.
‘I’ll call him Tim,’ I said as Aster knelt on the rug beside me.
He nudged me with his elbow. ‘Now I only have to get you to accept Albert’s name is Albert, and we can be a big happy family.’
I stood and rushed to the kitchen before Aster could see how his words affected me.
I wanted that. I wanted Aster and me to be a unit. Not just for now, while we cared for this baby goat, but always.
But it would only ever be a joke to him. He had a limited amount of time on the island, and then he’d be gone.
I couldn’t have Aster forever, and not in all the ways I wanted him. Instead, I’d take whatever I could get. Temporary help and limited closeness. Better than the nothing I’d endured for years.
‘You’re making porridge, right?’ Aster called across the room while he fed Tim. ‘I attempted to make my own breakfast yesterday and even Albert turned his nose up at it.’
I frowned at the pile of oats in the pan. ‘That goat eats socks.’
‘Does that tell you something about the quality of porridge I was able to produce?’
I almost offered to show him how it was done, but stopped myself. While Aster was here, it was unlikely any more freak snowstorms or emergencies would carry me away from our set routine. I liked making breakfast each morning,liked caring for him in this way. I didn’t want him to be helpless without me, but I wanted to do things for him while he was around.
By the time I poured creamy oats into two bowls and topped them with dried fruit and honey, Aster had finished feeding Tim and grabbed his laptop. He set it on the small side table we used to watch the hours of TV he insisted were mandatory, and snuggled under a couple of blankets.
‘You can have a snow day today, right?’ He reached up to take one of the bowls.
‘What exactly does a snow day entail?’ I settled on the other side of the sofa, leaving a respectful distance between us.
Aster groaned around his first mouthful of porridge. I looked away before I could stare at him licking his lips.
‘Lazing around, watching films, being cosy.’ Aster wiggled his jumper-clad shoulders and pulled the blanket up to reveal his pyjama bottoms. ‘Wear comfy clothes and generally doss around.’
