“Fuck sorry,” I mutter back, and I press even harder against his erection.
“Aspen—”
“We could freeze to death out here. Do you want your last act on earth to be heroic, or do you want your last act on earth to be the best blaze of glory?”
There’s a beat of silence, and then he cracks up. “Quit quoting my most famous movie lines at me.”
“Oh, were you in that movie? I forgot.”
“Yes, I was in that movie. Lead character. The one who saved the world? Ring a bell?” Fingers brush my breasts, and those arenotmy fingers.
I can tell by the way goosebumps break out all over my chest.
I’m still in my hoodie and sweatpants. He’s not touching my skin anywhere except my hands, and I’m still getting delicious chills. “Oh, I might remember that now.”
His nose nestles into my hair.
The fire crackles and sends a dancing yellow glow around the room.
My fingers are warming.
My breasts are tingling. My vagina is asking if we’re really going to sleep like this, or if we can have other fun first.
“Cash?” I whisper.
“Hmm?”
“My nose is cold too.”
He shifts, releasing my hands, and clamps his palm over my nose. “Yep. Definitely cold.”
I snort in amusement, my own breath filling his hand and warming my nose up.
But only a little.
I roll over until I’m facing him, and scoot close enough that my hands are scrunched between us, my nose buried in the warm, smoke-and-pancake scent of his T-shirt.
“Aspen—”
“Shh. Conserve energy.”
He’s stiff against me—his whole body, I mean, not specifically just his penis—but only for a moment.
And then he relaxes.
Except for his penis.
This is such a bad idea.
But it’s a much better idea than having more nightmares.
Being cold by myself.
Being alone.
He tugs me tighter against him and presses a kiss to my hair.
I slide my top hand under his shirt and wrap my arm around his back, lying to myself that it’s for heat.
