She rounded the corner of the screen to reveal a pale green nightdress. It brushed the tops of her feet as she crossed the room. She looked like some untouchable dream—except she was standing close enough to touch.
I forgot how to breathe.
“You can take the bed,” I said, the words tripping over themselves. I gestured toward it like an idiot, as if she couldn’t easily find it herself. “I’ll, uh…take the floor. Or the chair.” I glanced at the corner by the glass balcony doors, where an armchair leaned against the wall.
Her brow furrowed. “Do not be ridiculous. You should sleep with me.”
My heart stumbled, and my jaw dropped. I fought the instinct to say,“Yes, please,”and“thank you.”
Her eyes widened as she realized what she’d said. “I meant, you can share the bed. It is plenty large enough. We slept incloser proximity on our bedrolls.” Her blush deepened as she tucked a stray curl behind her ear. “If you do not want to?—”
“I want to,” I blurted, wincing at the tone of desperation in my response.
Her finger shot up, accusatory. “There shall only be sleeping.”
I gave her a mock salute to cover the mess of my fluttering heart. “Yes, princess. Only sleeping.”
She shook her head, but there was heat beneath her fluster. “You know I am not a princess.”
“You keep saying that,” I said, circling to the far side of the bed.
She slipped beneath the covers with a rustle of fabric, shoulders tense. I did the same. We lay on our backs, the weight of everything unsaid pressed thick between us. I counted my breaths.
One.
One beautiful woman.
Two.
Two hands I needed to keep to myself.
Three.
The number of seconds I’d hesitate before giving heranythingshe asked me for in this bed.
Her breathing slowed, smoothed out. I rolled carefully to face her.
Sleep smoothed the lines of tension from her forehead. The faint glow of the window caught silver in her hair, transforming her into something luminous and otherworldly. My fingers begged to reach out, to trace the curve of her jaw, to memorize the map of her so I would always be able to find my way back.
I watched her for a long while, my apprehension fading with the steady rhythm of her breath. And in that fragile quiet, a tide of truth crashed over me.
I had fallen for her.
Harder than I meant to.
Faster than I should.
And I had no idea what would happen when she learned the truth of my feelings.
SIX DAYS REMAINING
21
MAV
The storm had passed, leaving the air dense with moisture. Delicate strands of morning sun caught on the beads of water clinging to every leaf and branch. We rode in silence, Quinn seated in front of me.
Her scent clung to my shirt, soft and clean, threaded with lavender. It had seeped into my skin and followed me into my dreams. After sharing a bed last night—even if our fingers hadn’t so much as brushed—we’d crossed an invisible threshold neither of us dared name. She hadn’t said much when we saddled up, but her eyes had met mine, full of unanswered questions.
