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Hang on. Was that the sound of his teeth chattering?

‘Devan, are you OK?’ She held her breath, using her senses to tune in to him.

‘I’m f-i-ine.’

He did not sound fine. ‘Here, let me give you this hot water bottle.’

‘No! I w-want you to have that.’

‘Why on earth?’ She was already shifting to pull it out for him. She was not having his death on her conscience. What if she went to jail for withholding a vital heat source?

‘If you pass the heat to me, t-then you get c-cold. How does that help us?’

He was probably right, but that didn’t mean she was going to let him turn into an ice sculpture. Who would show her where the coffee hut was?

She let out a long breath, barely believing she was about to say this. ‘Then come here. We’ll share the warmth. Strictly for survival purposes. That is all.’

‘I’m f-f-fiiiiine,’ he said again.

Did he sound a bit sleepier this time? Wait. What was it about not letting people fall asleep in extreme conditions when they were feeling cold? Not that they were in the North Pole, or anything. But that didn’t sound good.

‘Stop being Good Old Devan, you idiot, or you’re going to end up snuffing it.’

She wasn’t sure how true that was, but she wasn’t waiting around until the morning to find out. With one gigantic heave, she pulled herself onto the top of the bag barricade and rolled herself over it, like a giant, slightly too hot caterpillar. As she crash-landed next to Devan, she was relieved to hear his chuckle.

‘You never did treat me like G-good Old Devan, d-did you?’

‘Rest assured. You’ll never be G-O-D to me.’

‘It’s just a persona, you know. Like yours. Sometimes I wish I could drop it.’

‘I’m loving your honesty, but let’s just keep you alive.’

The humour helped as she began to do what might otherwise have felt overly familiar and painfully embarrassing. Snuggling herself into Devan under his small heap of spare clothes, she unzipped the snug protection of her sleeping bag and wrapped half of it around him, allowing half of her heat to seep into him. Feeling his chill, she instinctively pulled herself to him, the fronts of their bodies firm against each other, the hot water bottle at his back.

‘Ohhhhhh.’ He shivered against her as his body adjusted to her heat. ‘This is s-soooo good.’ His voice was deep and guttural, his cold lips softening against her neck. ‘I mean, for s-survival. N-nothing weird.’

‘Nothing weird,’ she repeated, quickly taking his cold hands and pushing them up under her clothes so they were touching her bare skin, worried he might get frostbite. Did people’s fingers fall off if they got cold? She did not want to be held responsible for a stumpy Devan.

And all of this should have felt peculiar. Getting so absurdly close and almost intimate with her cheating ex-boyfriend – even if he was single now and he seemed adamant he hadn’t meant to hurt her. She did not want to let go of her heart for anyone, because unguarded hearts got besieged. Yet none of this felt strange. Just like earlier, when muscle memory had kicked in and they’d worked together in tandem, their bodies seemed to know what to do.

Except she was not going to let her body do a fraction of what it was traitorously whimpering for. As he warmed against her, his shivers calming to contented sighs, his fingers curling into her back and tangling with her nightclothes, there was a heat building between her legs that could have kept them both sizzling all night. Her nipples were hardening against him, even though she definitely wasn’t cold. Her body was reacting to his. Longing for more of him. Though if she dared to be honest, perhaps it wasn’t just her body that was falling.

But that was ridiculous. They were both tired, and probably a touch delirious from being out in the elements. They were two semi-lost people, clinging to each other for survival. Just for one night. She was not going to go taking advantage of Good Old Devan, just because the poor guy was freezing his knackers off.

‘You’re so warm,’ he whispered into her skin.

OK, so maybe he wasn’t at death’s door anymore. That didn’t mean she was going to get wild.

‘Just call me Good Old Alyssa,’ she whispered back.

‘You are good, you know,’ he said, after a pause. ‘In here.’

With a slowness that was almost agonising, he moved one of his hands from the naked flesh of her back, trailing it over her hip in a way that made her shiver, and up past her belly button until it landed on her ribs. Just under her breasts. Polite, but utterly sensual. How much she wanted to grab that hand and push it upwards, until it touched the nipples that were throbbing for him. She was on fire – and he hadn’t even kissed her. There was no way she could let him, or there would be absolutely no end to this. She would be his. And she’d spent so many years making sure she would never be anybody’s again.

‘In here,’ he repeated, his hand dangerously close to her beating heart. ‘You’re so good. I wish you knew that. I wish you knew you’ve always been perfect, just as you are.’

Now he was definitely feverish, if that was a thing. Exhausted and rambling. Wasn’t he? Either way, he would forget all of this by the morning. Thank goodness.

‘I can’t explain exactly what happened back then, without betraying other people’s secrets. They’re not just my truths to tell. And I don’t expect you to trust anybody who can’t tell you the truth.’

His voice was low, his breath warm against her neck. Every inch of the flesh he was touching was rising up to him in goosebumps, aching to be caressed.

‘Though I do want you to know that it was always you. I never dropped my torch for you. Never will.’

She could feel her eyes welling up.

‘I can’t go on being Good Old convenient Devan forever. We all deserve our own true love story. Don’t we?’

Each word was getting quieter, as though he was falling asleep against her. She guessed it was safe for him to drift off now his body was warm. In fact, it was safer all round if he did. Who knew what might happen between them if he stayed awake. If he kept talking, even if it was surely nonsense. If they kept holding each other so tightly.

Because something was shifting inside her, inside and out. And if things were allowed to move too far in unexpected directions, they might never be the same again.