I spin, heart hammering. Julien stands before me, arms crossed, and his face unreadable in the darkness. How long was he standing there?
“I—” I shuffle with my foot. “Are we… are we still good for training?”
“It’s the middle of the night.”
“I know, I just… Tomorrow, I mean. Or whenever. I just wanted to make sure we’re still on.”
“We are.” He climbs the steps, stopping one below me so our eyes are level. “Anything else?”
Yes. So much else. Tell him. Tell him you made a mistake. Tell him— “No. Just that.”
He holds my gaze for a long, excruciating moment before brushing past me to the door. He opens it and walks inside without closing it.
Not an invitation exactly, but not a dismissal either.
I hover at the threshold.
But it’s clear what I’m going to do, because—Can I have this?
Just this. Just his arms around me. Just the safety of his presence.
It doesn’t mean anything if we don’t let it.
I follow him inside and close the door behind me.
The cabin is dark except for the moonlight highlighting the planes of Julien’s back as he takes off his shirt and tosses it aside.
He moves to the bathroom without a word while I… stand in the middle of the room like an idiot, arms wrapped around myself. What did I expect? That he’d sweep me into his arms? That we’d pick up where we left off?
The couch calls to me, that same spot where he touched me, where I came apart under his hands. I sink onto it, hugging my knees to my chest.
Two minutes pass. Three. The bathroom door opens.
Julien emerges, still shirtless, water droplets clinging to his face. He pauses at the bedroom doorway, hand on the frame. For a moment, I think he’s going to disappear inside, leave me alone with my stupid choices.
Instead, he turns back. Crosses to the couch. And grabs the thick blanket from its arm. He settles into the corner, spreading it over his body before holding one corner up in silent invitation.
I unfold from my curl and crawl across the cushions. His arm comes around me as I settle in, my front to his, his warmth seeping into mine.
“Is this okay?” I whisper.
“Better than okay.”
His breathing slows, chest rising and falling, and gradually, impossibly, I drift toward sleep, safe in the circle of his arms.
For the first time since the others arrived, I feel like I can breathe again.
Light tickles my nose, actual sunlight, not the gray pre-dawn I usually wake to. I prop myself up on Julien’s chest, disoriented by the brightness streaming through the window. His hand immediately finds my hip, steadying me even as his eyes stay closed.
“Is it already time?” His voice is rough with sleep.
“Past time. I need to get back before Amelia wakes up. Or my parents.” Though honestly, after two weeks of this, I’m starting to wonder if they already know. If everyone knows about my late-night visits to Julien’s cabin.
His eyes open, that deep brown catching gold in the morning light. His other hand comes up to cup my cheek, thumb brushing across my cheekbone in a gentle caress that makes my heart stutter. Just like when his gaze drops to my lips, and I think he might kiss me.
Want him to kiss me.
But like every morning, he doesn’t cross that invisible line we’ve drawn.
