“Are you sure?”
Kaj shifted over in the bed, making room for him. “Just to sleep.”
He could practically hear Noah’s hesitation as he stood by the door for a few moments before closing it and padding across the floor.
Without a word, Noah slipped under the covers, leaving a respectful distance between them. Kaj could feel the warmth radiating from his body grazing his back—achingly close, yet frustratingly distant. Torn between the tendrils of his nightmare and the surreal reality of having Noah in his bed like this, he didn’t dare to move.
They stayed like that, silently motionless, for minutes, maybe hours. Kaj wasn’t sure. The only thing he knew was that it was uncomfortable.
“I overheard your conversation with Aksel earlier,” he blurted out of nowhere in a lame attempt at scratching the uneasiness meandering down his spine. “About your mom.”
Noah stiffened behind him. He didn’t speak right away, as if he were debating between telling him to fuck off or opening up. “She’s okay,” he finally said. “As okay as she can be.”
“I had no idea she was sick.”
“I haven’t told anyone other than Aksel, and only because he went through the same shit with Dahlia. Xander knows because, well, he reads people like open books.”
“I’m sorry.”
Noah let out a bitter chuckle. “It’s not like it’s your fault.”
“How long...?” Kaj asked.
“A little over a year. It was in remission, but it returned four months ago,” Noah said, his voice barely above a whisper. “She’s been through surgery already, and now she’s doing chemo and radiation again.”
Kaj’s chest tightened.
“Some days are better than others,” Noah continued. “But at least she hasn’t lost her obnoxious sense of humor. She’s already lost her hair, which was hard for her at first, but now she jokes about saving money on shampoo.”
The ghost of a smile tugged at Kaj’s lips, imagining Trine’s mischievous grin in the face of adversity.
“The doctors say the prognosis is good,” Noah added, his words sounding rehearsed, as if he’d said them a thousand times before, more to convince himself than anything else. “But it’s a long road ahead.”
Kaj didn’t know what to say as flashes of better times passed through his eyes. Trine was the only motherly figure he’d had before Mads and his grandma came into the picture. She had always been so strong, funny, and caring.
He turned around to face Noah. It was dark, but not so much that he couldn’t discern the shape of his face, his plump lips, and the twinkle of those somber black eyes under the faint light seeping through the window. Kaj wanted to offer some kind of comfort, but he didn’t know how to without breaching the boundaries he himself had set, so he tucked both hands under the pillow.
“Are you going to kiss me now?” Noah asked sardonically.
Kaj rolled his eyes.Way to kill the moment.“No. I just sleep better on this side.”
Noah’s soft laughter eased into a yawn. “We should try to get some sleep, yeah,” he said. “Or we’ll be dead tomorrow.”
Kaj nodded and closed his eyes, hyperaware of Noah’s body just a few inches away. His warmth wrapping around him made him feel like he was hanging by a thread, swaying in the void between the past and the present, between what he hated and what he craved.
Unable to stand the sensation gnawing at him, Kaj rolled onto his other side again and tried to quiet his thoughts. He focused on his breathing, on the cadence of his pulse, on the distant humming of the city outside this room. Anything but the man lying practically naked in bed with him.
The darkness behind his eyelids deepened as exhaustion crept in. His limbs felt heavy and so did his mind. He was already floating on the edge of unconsciousness when Noah draped an arm over his waist and pulled him closer.
Kaj tensed, unsure how to react as heat bloomed where their bodies touched. His heart thrashed against his ribs. Noah’s steady breath brushing across the nape of his neck didn’t help. A part of Kaj was desperate to pull away while the other clawed at the haven this man was.
As the comforting, familiar scent surrounding him and the gentle rhythm of Noah’s breathing lulled Kaj, the tension slowly drained from his body. Just before sleep claimed him, Kaj allowed himself a moment of honesty—here in his arms, he feltsafe.
Eleven
Atimidlightshimmeredin the pit of Kaj’s consciousness. It was faint, but it was warm, encapsulating him like a silky cocoon. It smelled of leather, pine trees, and dew dripping from the blades of grass at dawn. A weight he couldn’t recognize comfortably wrapped around his waist as something hard pressed against the back of his thigh.
Kaj startled awake and panic flared in his chest when he gasped for air. He was trying to move, but however alert his mind was, his body didn’t respond.
