“No skepticism.” He stretches out and pulls me into a light embrace. “If you say you weren’t sleeping, then I believe it.”
“I was dozing.”
“Got it.” He sighs as he strokes my loose hair. “You feeling okay?”
“I feel like every part of my body aches, and my ankle is still throbbing, but overall I’ll do.”
“Good. Because I’m not going to be okay if you’re seriously injured. There’s only so much my poor heart can take.”
I nestle against him. “I’m fine. Maybe even good.”
“All right then. And speaking of my poor heart…” He pauses for effect before he continues, “I did hear you right back up on that hill, didn’t I?”
“I assume you did. I hadn’t shot a rifle right in your ear yet.”
“Kat.”
“I love you, Micah,” I blurt out since I know he needs me to say it again. “I love you too.”
His whole body shakes against mine for just a few seconds. Then he relaxes and pulls me even closer. “Good. That’s what I thought you said.”
Maybe this is the moment for a deep, meaningful romantic climax, but we fall asleep instead.
I haveno idea what time it is when I wake up again. The room is mostly dark, but it doesn’t feel like it’s dark outside. I lift my head and blink, trying to orient myself and figure out what’s going on.
“What’s wrong, baby?” Micah asks groggily.
“What time is it?”
“It’s close to five.”
“In the morning?”
“In the afternoon.” He chuckles and pulls me back down so I’m pressed against him. “We only slept for an hour or so.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I woke up a few minutes ago and checked.”
“Oh.” Relieved that he doesn’t have some sort of magic time-telling powers that I’m lacking, I relax and stroke his shirt. “You smell like soap. Do you know that?”
“I figured it would be kinder if I washed up some before I got in bed with you.”
“Oh. That was kind. But if you’re hoping for sex, you’re going to be disappointed. I still feel like a paper clip that’s been twisted all out of shape.”
“Good comparison.”
“I thought so.”
“And I wasn’t expecting sex. Not when you’re injured. I just want to be close to you if that’s all right.”
“That’s just fine with me.”
“Are you up to talking a little?”
I swallow, suddenly nervous because I’m not sure what he wants to talk about. “I… guess so.”
“Nothing too deep or difficult. At least I don’t think so. I just want to… I want to know what you’re thinking. About us, I mean.”
