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I nod. “Pretty much back to normal.”
“Pretty much?”
“I feel kind of weak. But apart from that, I’m good.”
He sighs. “Sit up, then.”
I do, letting him unstrap me from my straitjacket. He leaves the blankets draped around me. I look down at myself. “You stripped me.”
“Wet clothes will kill you.” He fumbles around in his pack, pulling out a chocolate bar. He peels back the yellow wrapping and shoves it into my hand. “Eat.”
“I’m not really hungry.”
“You need energy to stay warm.Eat.”
So I do. I snap the chocolate bar into pieces and cram it into my mouth. “Can I have some water?” I mumble.
He hands me a can, and I thirstily suck it up, watching him narrowly. He’s huddled in the corner of the tent, hunched over. Every so often, a flurry of shivers wracks his body, and he grits his teeth hard until they stop. I think he’s trying to hide it, but he’s freezing his balls off.
“Come share.” I lift up the flap of my blanket. “There’s enough room for two.”
He shakes his head. “You should wrap back up. The temp might drop again.”
For someone who spends so much time calling me dumb, he really is pretty thick. “You know it’ll be good for me,” I try. “Sharing body heat, and all that. I think this heated blanket is out of juice.”
He sighs. “I’m going to have to take off my clothes,” he warns. “Or it’ll fuck with the insulation.”
“I hoped you would.”
He glares at me, quickly pulling off his coat, then the layers of sweaters and thermals underneath. I rake my eyes over his naked torso, drinking in the sight of his solid abs and thick, muscled arms. “You could always take your pants off too,” I encourage, my gaze drifting to his boxers. I thought dicks were supposed to get smaller when it’s cold. Trust Cole’s penis to defy the laws of physics. “I really wouldn’t mind.”
He ignores my blatant come on, slipping under the blanket and opening his arms. “Here,” he says gruffly. I obediently roll into him, and he pulls me closer, his chest against my back. I feel his sigh of relief brush through my hair as he relaxes slightly.
“I’m sorry,” he says after a few heartbeats. “That I’ve been such an asshole to you.”
“What do you mean?”
“You think I’ll call you an idiot forthis?For being scared and hurt?” His voice is grim. “I must have been really shitty to you for you to think that.”
“Just following the pattern,” I mumble.
He shakes his head. “I’ve been too harsh on you, ever since we met you. I should have trusted you more. I’m sorry.”
I take a breath. “Was it because of Johanna?”
He tenses. “What?”
“The other two told me about her,” I pause. “And about Rickard.”
“They’re nothing,” he spits out. “They don’t matter.”
I twist around so we’re facing each other. My breasts press against his muscled chest. He closes his eyes as the bulge in his boxers rubs between my legs. “That’s not true,” I say quietly. “You can tell me.”
“It seems like you already know the story.”
“Not from you. I imagine you’re the best person to tell it.” He doesn’t say anything, and I raise an eyebrow. “You have something better to do?”
He growls. I feel the sound rumbling through his chest, and press even closer. He hugs me tighter automatically, and sighs. “There’s... not much to say. When we met Johanna—it was like she put a spell on us all. It was shitty when she got engaged to Riven, but I couldn’t be mad at him for wanting to settle down with her. I would’ve, if she’d asked me instead.” He swallows. “When she told me about the kid, though. That felt different.”
