Arlo swallows them quickly, then hands the water back to her.
“Why’s it a bad idea?”
Kianna cocks her head. “You have second-degree burns on your neck and shoulder down to your upper arm. You had smoke inhalation, and you have two broken ribs.”
She raises her eyebrows like she’s daring him to argue with her, but she doesn’t know my Arlo like I do. She doesn’t know that he will. Without a single fucking bit of hesitation.
He proves my point half a second later when he rolls his eyes. “I’m gonna hurt either way. I almost fuckingdied. I’m not sure cuddling with my boyfriend is gonna be worse than that.”
That honestly gives me heart palpitations. I know he almost died; I was there. But goddamn, I wish he’d stop reminding me.
Kianna chuckles softly. “Tell you what, when I leave the room, I won’t be back for at least three hours unless you hit your call button.”
“What are you saying?” I ask, disbelief coloring my voice, but she’s already slipping out of the room.
“She’s saying you can get in bed with me.” Arlo pats the thin mattress. “Please. I promise if it hurts, I’ll tell you.”
Fuck it. Truly. Fucking fuck it. This is torture, not having him in my arms. I haven’t gotten to hold him since before I thoughtI’d lost him. And he’s damn near begging, and my heart can’t handle the distance anymore.
“Let me help you get moved over a little. I’m gonna lie on your non-burned side.”
Arlo breathes a sigh of relief, and I feel the echo of that relief in my soul.
I help Arlo adjust, watching his face for signs that he might be in pain as I work with him to get him closer to the edge of the bed.
Thankfully, he only has one IV now, and it’s on the same side as his burns, so as long as we’re careful, I shouldn’t disturb it.
When there’s a slightly larger sliver of bed open, I sit down and kick my shoes off, then carefully lie down next to him.
Our arms press against each other almost immediately given how little room there is. That doesn’t seem to be enough for Arlo. He wiggles and shifts, making little whiny noises in the back of his throat.
“What are you doing, baby boy?” I whisper.
“Trying to get closer to you,” he whispers back.
There must be something about a near-death experience. Arlo’s always been tactile, at least in the way he’d accept touch, but now it seems amplified. Or maybe he’s always like this, and I just didn’t know it. Hell, how has it been less than a week since we’ve become official?
Rolling onto my side, I prop myself on my fist and hook my other arm carefully around Arlo’s waist. “I’m gonna pull you closer, okay? Try to relax. I’ll be as gentle as I can.”
I pause when he lets out a little gasp, but he tells me to keep going, so I do.
After a couple of minutes of careful maneuvering, Arlo is tucked into me, the side of his head pressed against my chest. His hair still smells like smoke, and that makes something dark and ugly slither through my veins.
I rest my hand over his heart, feeling it beat against my palm.
Closing my eyes, I focus on that. On the steadythump thump thumpof his heart against my skin. On his chest, which forty-eight hours ago was unnaturally still, rising and falling with each breath he inhales on his own.
He rubs his head against my chest like a cat, a deep breath escaping him as he sighs and settles into me deeper.
“Better,” he mumbles. “So much better.”
“Agreed,” I whisper, slipping my arm under the pillow and resting my head on it. “I love you so fucking much, Arlo. I never want to lose you.”
“You won’t.”
He lays his hand over mine where it’s resting on his chest. Aside from a few small cat naps, I’ve barely slept since we got here. But with Arlo’s solid body pressed to mine, his fingers resting against my own, and the sounds of his slow, deep breathing, sleep takes me almost instantly.
Chapter 16
