“I have plenty,” he said, because of course he did.
“Just one sip.” I took the bottle. “You really are annoyingly prepared.”
And after I downed a few gulps, he was offering me his sunscreen.
I glanced down at the uncapped tube: SPF 50. My skin was already tingling from the heat, so why did I feel like a sunburn would be less painful than letting Noah…handle me?
What was this?
Resentment? Maybe. But not at him. Not really.
I felt weirdly exposed. His offering of help felt like something else. Like it was proof I was failing.
At everything.
“I’m fine.” It came out sharper than I meant.
Noah just cocked an eyebrow. “So, you’re already wearing protection?”
I didn’t answer.
Because, no, of course, I wasn’t. When I packed for this trip, I’d been lucky to remember to bring underwear. I hadn’t exactly been in a rational headspace.
I crossed my arms. “I’ll manage.”
He gave a tight exhale. “Just take the damn sunscreen. You’re already turning red.”
Why, oh, why, couldn’t I just take the sunscreen and say think you?
“I don’t need you to take care of me,” I snapped. “I’m not one of your pets.”
The corner of his mouth lifted, but it wasn’t a real smile. “Good to know. Because I forgot to bring the fish flakes.”
I closed my eyes for half a second.
This was not about him. It was me just trying to remember what it felt like to stand on my own two feet.
Silence stretched between us, just buzzing at the edges
Then, without comment, Noah held the sunscreen out again.
I hesitated. Then I took it.
And he didn’t say anything. Didn’t smirk. Didn’t even blink. Just waited quietly while I squeezed a blob into my palm and began rubbing it onto my arms, more briskly than necessary.
“Don’t forget your face,” he murmured, still calm. No judgment.
I let out a shaky sigh. Then I dabbed some across my cheeks and nose.
“Happy now?” I asked, not unkindly. Just...tired.
“Ecstatic,” he said, his voice as dry as the desert around us.
I handed the bottle back, and he accepted it without fuss. Then, of course, because he couldn’t help himself, he pulled off his cap.
“You should wear this.”
I blinked at it. Then stepped back. “No.”
