“Yes.”
The honesty stings worse than if he’d lied. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be. We both made it.” He doesn’t look at me. “That’s what matters.”
“You have a cut.” I gesture to his neck. “From earlier.”
His hand rises to touch it. “It’s nothing.”
“It’s bleeding.”
“It’ll stop.”
I dig in my pack for the first aid kit. “Let me?—”
“I said—” He meets my eyes, his body tense before dropping to the ground. “Will you take a look at it?”
I edge closer to examine the cut. It’s close to the other one, shallower but angry, red-rimmed with dirt collecting along the edge. Not dangerous, but infections happen fast.
“Hold still.” My fingers hover over his skin.
He’s warm, pulse thumping visibly beneath the wound. I dab antiseptic on a cotton pad and press it against the cut.
He hisses through his teeth but doesn’t pull away.
“Sorry,” I mutter, though I’m not sure what I’m apologizing for. The sting? The fight? The fact that I didn’t run when he told me to?
“I’m good.”
I clean carefully around the edges. “You’ve got dirt everywhere.”
“Hazard of rolling in ditches.”
“And climbing fences.” I apply antibacterial ointment, fingers trembling. “And playing hero.”
His jaw tightens. “Wasn’t playing.”
“Right. Sorry.”
Our eyes lock for an uncomfortable second before we both look away. The fire pops, spitting an ember onto the floor. He crushes it with his boot.
“Almost done.” I place a small bandage over the cut, smoothing the edges with my thumb.
His skin is rough beneath my fingertips, stubble scraping against my knuckles. He smells like sweat and pine and something uniquely him that I shouldn’t notice but do.
“There.” I drop my hands, retreating to my side of the treehouse. “All fixed.”
He catches my wrist before I can fully retreat, tugging me toward him with a sudden jerk that sends me tumbling against his chest. My free hand lands on the solid plane.
“I’ll take watch,” he murmurs, his arm snaking around my waist and arranging me against his side. “You need sleep.”
“I—” Words evaporate as his thumb traces circles on my hip beneath the fabric of my shirt.
He shifts, pulling me down until my head rests in the crook of his shoulder. “Better for warmth.”
Warmth. Yes. That’s all this is. Just like yesterday.
I let my muscles relax against him, too exhausted to maintain the wall between us. “What about you?”
