"You don't?"
"Scout." It's a sigh as much as it is him calling my name. He's looking past me into the storm, gathering words. "You did good today."
I shrug a shoulder. "That's my job."
"I know. Still."
Praise from him is rare enough to treasure. "You were good with the kids. You warmed right up to them."
"Don't spread it around." His mouth almost smiles. "I have a reputation."
"It'll survive."
He stands, giving the bed a look like it personally offends him. "Mrs. Zhao says the storm might turn to freezing rain. We could lose power."
"So a normal Tuesday."
He makes a noise that could be interpreted as a laugh. I look at the bed because someone has to address it. "We'll keep to our sides. You won't hurt your shoulder, I won't kick. We'll manage."
He studies me like I've suggested something dangerous. "You get the window side. If something happens, I'm closer to the door."
"Always thinking in contingencies."
"You don't?"
"Not really. I think about what would make people happy." I slide him a shy smile. "Coming to Vashon was a good idea, by the way. Even though we're stuck."
He jerks his head in what might be taken for agreement. I clear my throat and dig out a set of sweats for him, then take mine into the small bathroom and quickly change clothes. When I get out, he’s stripped off his Henley, leaving him in a white t-shirt and a pair of too-tight gray sweatpants.
I swallow and jerk my gaze away. He’s not interested in having me stare.
"Lights off in ten?" I ask.
"Make it five. I'm beat."
I check locks and screens, then slide under my half of the quilt. The mattress dips when he joins me. We're careful not to touch, but I'm aware of every inch between us. His body heat radiates across the small space. His breathing sounds far too loud in the quiet.
The fire settles with a soft snap and a buffet of wind braces the windows. He shifts. I feel the mattress move, feel him testing the space between us without crossing it.
"Good work today," I whisper into the darkness.
A soft grunt leaves him. "You too, sunshine."
I close my eyes and try not to think about how easy it'd be to roll toward him, to close this careful distance between us. I clench my eyes and try not to think about his massive hands, the brooding curve of his mouth, and the way he looked at me in the firelight.
Chapter Eighteen
Silas
Istand at the window, looking out onto the unfamiliar snowy landscape of the Puget Sound coast. On the shore, the snow has stopped falling, leaving a crisp strip of darkness where the water meets the sand.
My hair's still damp from the hot shower I took at five. I woke and it immediately became clear that lying beside Scout would be impossible. Listening to her quiet, almost innocent breaths instantly stiffened my cock.
It's better to be jerking off silently in the shower than to do what I really wanted, which was to turn her sleeping body over and explore her with my touch. She looks so damn soft. I think I made the right call.
"Morning," she says. Her voice is soft and slow with sleep.
I look over my shoulder. She's sitting up with messy hair and a loose shirt that slips down one arm. Her dark blonde curls are wild from sleep, spilling across her shoulders in waves. Her t-shirt hangs off her shoulder, revealing smooth skin and the curve of her collarbone. Her green eyes are stillhazy with sleep, unfocused and soft. No makeup, lips slightly parted, cheeks flushed from the warmth of the bed. She's rumpled and beautiful and completely unaware of what she does to me.
