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"Damn it, Aaron," I whisper under my breath, my mind full of him.
He moves around the bushes, collecting wood for the fire. His phone's light is the only illumination he has as night falls. He insists on doing everything himself, telling me to rest, and the concern in his voice touches a soft spot in my heart.
He's here for me, protecting me, taking care of me. The hurt and humiliation from earlier today now seem way less important. But the thought of spending the night in a small tent with Aaron terrifies me.
How am I supposed to resist him? The desire I feel for him is undeniable. The need is real, raw, and Aaron will be right there, so close and yet so far.
The encroaching darkness of night is almost complete by the time Aaron gathers everything he needs for the fire. I squint, now barely able to make out his form, as he kneels before me and hands me his phone.
He's a silhouette against the evening, the outlines of his muscular form now visible only because of his phone’s dim light.
The thought of walking to the party in the dark sends a shiver down my spine, not from fear but relief, and I’m thankful that I'm here with Aaron and that he convinced me not to go.
Aaron begins arranging the logs, his movements confident and precise. He pulls a small box of matches from his pocket, striking one against the side. The sudden light flare illuminates his face, casting dancing shadows across his rugged features.
I watch as he carefully lowers the match to the dry wood, the flame flickering before it catches hold. Once the fire starts, it spreads quickly, the wood crackling as the fire consumes it. Aaron fans the flames, coaxing the fire to life, its orange glow bathing us in warmth and light.
Aaron's gaze falls on me as I rub my arms, trying to dispel the lingering chill. Instantly, he's at my side, draping his jacket over my shoulders. His touch is fleeting, yet it sends warmth spreading through me.
"You could have told me you were cold," he chides, his tone gentle.
Embarrassed, I mumble, "I didn't want to bother you more than I already have."
Aaron takes a seat next to me, his shoulder brushing against mine.
"Chloe, this isn't a bother. We're here, we're safe, and we're together. You can count on me."
The words hang between us, charged with an energy I can't ignore. I want to tell him that what I need isn't warmth from a fire or a jacket but from him. Yet, I bite my tongue. I can't risk ruining this moment.
"Thank you, Aaron," I say, my voice barely a whisper. I let out a sigh, staring into the fire.
"Everyone at the party is probably having a blast right now."
"I'm sorry, Chloe," Aaron murmurs, his voice low. "I wish you could be having fun, too."
His words make my heart constrict. I turn to look at him, his face lowered, and I quickly reassure him.
"I'm okay, Aaron. Sure, it's not a party, but at least I'm not alone. I have good company."
His face lifts at my words, and for a moment, I see something in his eyes. Something that mirrors my own feelings. But before I can decipher it, he looks away, and we both lose ourselves in the crackling of the fire and the silence of the night.
After a few minutes, the words bubble up within me, and I find myself speaking, my voice barely above a whisper.
"If I'm going to be stuck out here, there's no one I'd rather be with than a big, strong man who can protect me."
Aaron's smile is slow, teasing, and his eyes gleam with mirth in the firelight.
"Do you really think I'm that big?"
I gulp, my throat suddenly dry. I nod in response, but he isn't satisfied.
"Can't hear you," he teases.
I playfully shove him, my heart pounding.
"You know you're big, Aaron."
He leans in closer, so close that I can feel the warmth of his breath against my skin. His voice drops to a whisper, his words intended for me alone.
