“Did I do something to upset you?” Iasked.
To my surprise, he glanced at me now, but I couldn’t read hisexpression.
“Not really,” hemurmured.
I sighed in relief. “Good. Please do tell me if it happens in thefuture.”
Hector made no such promise out loud, but I hoped he would keep it. I stood again and offered him a hand. “Come. It’s late and we both need our rest,especiallyyou.”
Thankfully, he stood and followed me tothetent.
“Shane and Woodrow kindly set this up for us,” I told him. “I suppose this is where we’ll be sleeping for awhile.”
Suddenly, panic overtook Hector’s face. He looked as if I just told him he would be sleeping with sharks. His eyes flitted from the tent to me, then to the side, avoiding my gaze. Why was he acting sostrangely?
“Is something wrong?” Iasked.
“Um…” He fidgeted, then finallysaid, “No.”
He followed me inside the tent, but he was still acting like a deer in headlights. There was nothing I could do if he wouldn't tell mewhy.I grew frustrated, not knowing how I could help him when he obviously needed help, and because he wouldn’t tell me what was on his mind. We had only been physically intimate a week ago - that should have made us emotionally closer, notfartheraway.
Hector laid down in the furthest corner of the tent, and I resigned myself to taking the other end. If he was going to act like this, there was nothing I could do. Speaking to him now would only upset him and push him further away from me - in both body andspirit.
Secretly, I felt even more frustrated because this was not the time for him to act so petulant. Despite the gaining of new comrades, we were still in the middle of a crisis. Lives were at stake. Essentially, we were at war. More than ever before, weneededpeople to trust - and it seemed like right now, Hector did not trust meatall.
I closed my eyes and focused on the sound of his breathing, which was slow and artificially steadied, like he was still wide awake and focusing on keeping it quiet. With a pang of sadness, I realized he had never done that before. Just recently we had been sexual, the closest we could be. We slept in the same bed for months. We were supposed to trust each other with ourlives.
And now Hector slept on the other side of the tent, like I wascontagious.
I forcibly calmed my own breathing, which had picked up slightly with my frustration. I didn’t want to add stressful fuel to Hector’s anxious fire. I had to remain calm. Only then would he cometome.
I could smell him, I thought with a pang of longing. His scent drifted softly in the air, smelling of sweet omega musk and campfire smoke. There was still the lingering sharp spicy scent ofalphamingling with his own natural smell, leftovers from his pill usage. But everything about the smell washim.A small shiver ran down my spine and I tried to ignore the twitch inmycock.
When I tried to clear my thoughts and try to fall asleep, it was useless. The memories of the night Hector and I had sex were stuck there like an insect in a spider’s web. All I could think of was his face, his voice, his scent… and how much I longed for those things again. Even if my mind knew it was wrong. We did not have time to indulge our bodies in that right now, but I couldn’t lie to myself about how badly Iwantedhim.
But with the looming war and the way Hector was acting right now, I had to wonder if that one night of passion was a hugemistake.
