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I sighed, knowing there was no point in arguing with myself anymore. Overthinking and closing in on myself to shut everything else out had got me through most of my childhood. And it had served me well. But that was before Paul. That was before finding true love, finding someone who thinks I’m worth their time.
I didn’t need to protect myself anymore.
I had to open myself up, as scary as that might be, and let him in.
Properly this time.
Forever this time.
Watching him, studying the lines of his face in the dark, I knew he was sound asleep. So I snuggled in a bit closer, and closer still, until his arm slid around me and pulled me close. With my head on his chest, his arms around me, it was the safest I’d felt in years.
I smiled into his neck and closed my eyes and breathed him in.
I slept like a baby.
* * *
I wokeup to a smack on the arse. “You gotta get up,” Paul said.
I opened one eye. He was showered and dressed, and I was spread out in his bed, hugging his pillow instead of him. I whined. “Mmm.”
“The others will be awake soon. I’m starting breakfast early. We’ve got a busy day today.”
I groaned again, rolled over, and kicked back the sheet. His gaze went straight to my morning wood. He grunted, and I chuckled, still half asleep. “Don’t blame me. I was having a very good dream and hugging your pillow that smells a lot like you.”
He seemed stuck for a second, like his brain was glitching out. He wanted to stay but he knew he had to walk away. “I’ll be... cooking breakfast.”
“I’ll be jerking off in your shower.”
He tripped over his own feet, stumbled through the doorway but kept walking, grumbling as he went.
I chuckled and rolled out of bed.
In all seriousness, he did have a job to do. And also, in all seriousness, I did jerk off in his shower, imagining my hand and the warm, soapy water were his mouth. It only took a few strokes and a very vivid imagination, a replay of some of my favourite memories, and remembering his arms around me last night.
It was a pretty quick shower.
I got dressed, hoping to slip out of his tent unnoticed. I took one step out of the door and Marit and Kari both stopped dead on their way to the communal kitchen. Kari nudged Marit, and Marit smiled as if her suspicions proved correct.
“Morning,” I said brightly. Then I yelled out to Paul. “I, uh, I couldn’t find the... thing.”
Paul looked up from the hotplate. “What?” Then, seeing the two girls, he shot me a wild look, his face a shade of red. “Oh. Okay. Uh, thanks.”
We were terrible actors.
I made a beeline for my tent to avoid any awkward conversations, and to also assess the damage.
It wasn’t so bad. Just a bit of water. We’d thrown towels on the floor last night, so I threw those towels into the bathroom for now. But the bed... well, it was wet through.
I stripped the bedding and lifted the mattress, carrying it out to the front deck.
Marit and Kari were clearly surprised, and Norah stood up. “Oh, what happened?”
“My bed got wet,” I explained. “No big deal.”
Marit cocked her head. “You wet the bed?” The language barrier wasn’t embarrassing at all.
“No, no,” I said, ignoring the grin on Paul’s face. “Not wet like that. The tap and the valve in the bathroom...” I did the lever-hand action Marit did the other day so she’d understand. “It’s no big deal.”
