“What happened?” Thorn says beside me, instantly awake—and instantly panicked. “Sadie? Are you okay?”
This can only mean one thing: I was loud enough to wake him up somehow. The fact that he’s asking if I’m okay is my only reassurance; Iprobablydidn’t moan anything X-rated before my rude awakening.
“S-so c-cold,” I manage. “The t-trick didn’t w-work.”
His eyes go wide, landing on where the sleeping bag is draped over my collarbones.
“I, um. I might have forgotten to mention one crucial detail.”
“What, that clothes might actually be helpful withnotfreezing my ass off?”
He tugs at a little bungee cord that hangs limply from the top edge of the sleeping bag. “The trick only works if you pull this as tight as it will go so your body heat stays inside—and so no cold air can getin.”
“Seriously?!” My eyebrows shoot as high as they’ll go. “That would have been a fantastic detail to know about!”
Thorn bites back a laugh.
“It’snotfunny!” I protest, but I’m teetering on the edge of a giggle fit myself despite it all, made funnier by how we’re both trying to be quiet—and coming dangerously close to waking up the entire camp.
“Here,” he says, his voice gravelly with sleep as he stretches an arm across me, pulling tight. “I’ll warm you up.”
A couple of inches is all it takes, and then we’re pressed together as tightly as two people can get with a pair of sleeping bags between them. I’m the little spoon, and I feel every inch of him pressing up against the back of me. It’s nothing like the dream I just woke up from—he’s not on top of me, we’re not in a sailboat off the coast of Italy, and we’re very much not alone.
Still, though: this reality feels almost steamier. It’s not just my imagination fulfilling whatever subconscious hopes spring up in the dead of night—Thorn is here,righthere, flesh and bone and heart and hands making sure I don’t turn to ice before the sun comes up. I’m all too aware of his arm around me, strong but gentle, his fingers splayed over my bare skin just below my shoulder. Nothing risqué there, but it’s close enough, especially given that my clothes are still stuffed at the bottom of my sleeping bag.
It doesn’t take long to warm up. He’s his own heating system, generating more than enough warmth for us both, his breath hot on the back of my neck even through the curtain of my hair.
The longest night ever suddenly can’t last long enough.
I don’t care that I woke up shivering. I don’t care that I woke up at all, or that I’m going to have the hardest time trying to fall back asleep—or that I’ll be miserably exhausted tomorrow if I don’t get at least a little bit more rest.
I want to feel every second.
DAY SEVEN
Day at Moonbow Falls and Alexandria Flat
Swimming in the wild can be one of nature’s purest joys—but only if the proper precautions are taken. Where waterfalls are concerned, it’s wise to stay alert and aware of your surroundings: not every waterfall is equally swimmable, and even from day to day, conditions could be more or less favorable depending on the weather. Exercise particular caution after a strong rain, intense meltoff from alpine snow, or if the telltale froth of whitewater is present.
—Henry Herrington,Backpacking the Sierras: A Beginner’s Handbook(Fourth Edition)
23SADIE
“Sadie?”
Thorn’s quiet voice cuts through the predawn half-light and the dark, dreamless sleep I must have eventually settled into.
I shift under his arm, which is still draped over me, and turn to face him. I feel instantly compelled to touch the scruff of his jaw, to plant a trail of kisses down his neck and see how the contrast of skin and stubble feels under my mouth.
“Yeah?” I reply instead, just as quietly.
“Still want to go see the sunrise through the waterfall?” he asks. “No worries if you need more sleep.”
I do need more sleep.
I doubt I’d beableto sleep again, though. And I really, really want to see Thorn’s secret cave.
“Let’s do it,” I say.
