“Or,” I say, suddenly all too aware of how intimate this moment feels, just the two of us in here while everyone else is out climbing near the waterfall, “you could leave them open?”
He bites his lip, and now that’s all I can see. “If that’s what you want,” he says slowly, “who am I to say no?”
It is what I want. It’s what I’ve wanted since the very firstmorning we found ourselves tangled together after he took refuge from the rain.
Using my good hand—my dominant hand, thankfully—I try to peel my shirt off. It’s a struggle. I never realized how much I took for granted havingbothhands to do this sort of thing.
Thorn notices, his gaze flicking down to the bare strip of skin where my tank top is partially hiked up.
“Need help?” he asks.
“I don’t know,” I say playfully. “Last time you helped, it involved tweezers and antiseptic and almost made me black out.”
He laughs. “My surgeon days are over,” he says as his fingers find the hem, leaving a trail of chills behind as they graze my abdomen.
“It’s a good thing,” I tease.
“I take a lot of pride in my work,” he says, glancing down to my mummy hand. “You’re welcome, by the way.”
His fingertips slide up under my shirt—the anticipation is killer. I can’t get this tank top off fast enough.
“Thank you,” I say, my words lost in lavender fabric as he helps me slip the shirt over my head. “For everything.”
His eyes dart downward—this sports bra doesgreatthings for me—then back up to my lips.
“We probably only have a few minutes…” His voice is raspy and quiet; his hands linger at the crisscrossing straps between my shoulder blades before skimming down to my lower back.
I grin, inching closer. “Then we should probably take advantage while we can, yeah?”
Never in my life have I fallen for someone so fast, but then again, I’ve never met anyone like Thorn. He makes it easy to be vulnerable: to let him see my entire self, my fears and my tears and the stubble that’s growing in on my legs, without worrying that I’mtoo much.
He’s never made me feel like too much. Never made me feel out of place here, even though I’ve possibly had the hardest time adjusting out of everyone.
He swallows, palms flexing over my bare back to pull me toward him. I ease my way onto his lap, wrap my legs around his hips. We pick up right where we left off this morning, minus the cave and the waterfall, but still very much in secret, his kiss so warm and soft and tender it almost makes me forget my pain.
I taste chocolate and coffee on his tongue, bittersweet. He’s days past a five o’clock shadow, and it’ll probably leave me red and raw after this, but right now I don’t care—I want it all.
His fingers press tighter as he works his way up my rib cage, then teases the band of my bra. He plants a hungry kiss on the tender part of my neck, just beneath the curve of my jaw. My pulse picks up, so strong I’m aware of every racing heartbeat.
My good hand finds its way to his hair, tightening too hard on instinct, and he makes a little noise.
“Sorry,” I whisper. “Did that hurt?”
He smirks. “Yeah,” he says. “In a good way.”
He leans in for another kiss—but the sound of footsteps on the rocky ground outside makes us both freeze.
“Thorn?” a voice calls out. “Sadie—are you in there?”
Parker, Thorn mouths, eyes wide.
I back off him, accidentally knocking into the flimsy tent wall in the process. I need a shirt. I need a shirtnow.
“Yeah!” Thorn replies, his voice cracked with thirst. He clears his throat. “Almost done in here.”
Now that my pack doesn’t have as much in it, it’s easy to find the fresh tank top I’m looking for. I whip it over my head as fast as I can, even though my left handhurts.
I wish I had a mirror, maybe also some concealer—that make-out session is most definitely written all over my face, and I have no way to hide it.
