Page 51 of Aryn

We were both freezing our asses off, and yeah, I was a little worried about him after yesterday. My body took over and kept him close while keeping me warm, too.

It makes perfect sense.

What doesn’t make sense is why my hand has found its way into his hair, or why I’m fighting the sudden urge to tilt those pretty lips up to mine.

Aryn draws in a deep breath, and I freeze, terrified he’s about to wake up and catch me holding him like he’s my personal damn pillow. He settles, and I glance past him to check on the others. Everyone’s asleep except Lillith, who’s keeping watch at the mouth of the cave. She must feel my attention, because she glances over her shoulder, smirks, and nods at the way we’re tangled together like a pair of shoelaces.

I scowl as her shoulders shake with silent laughter, but she turns back to the terrain. Aryn inhales as I carefully roll him onto his back, trying not to wake him. His lips part on a soft sigh, and I catch myself staring, wondering what they’d taste like and whether he’d make that same sound if I kissed him.

Hell, maybe I got hit with some of that venom yesterday, too.

I don’t daydream about kissing people like some sappy, love-struck idiot. Physical release is just that—release. It’s fun while it lasts, then it’s over.

Just like this overnight cuddle session needs to be over.

Whatever weirdness is messing with my head needs to find another outlet. My dick is still very much interested as I wriggle out of my sleeping bag, but the thick pants hide the worst of the evidence. Thank fuck for small mercies.

I tiptoe and quietly dig through my pack, feeling like I’m sneaking away from a one-night stand. Once I find my toothbrush and bundle up, I slip toward the exit.

“Morning,” Lillith chirps as I approach. “Sleep well?”

I glare at her sunny smile. “It was cold.”

“Mmm, was it? Didn’t look too cold from here. In fact, it looked downright cozy.”

I flip her off as I climb down from the cave, her deep chuckle trailing after me while I find a spot to piss. Icy water flows out of the hillside in a clear, steady stream, and the cold knocks some sense back into me as I brush my teeth and drink my fill.

For a few minutes, I scout the area for anything off. The landscape still looks strange as hell, but I’m surprised how quickly the orange days and red nights have become normal. Everything is quiet, and when I have no more excuses for delaying, I head back.

Everyone is stirring. Ronan and Cameron are tangled together, while Taryn is rolling up her sleeping bag. Aryn’s wrapped in his, but he’s sitting up with his back leaning on the cave wall. His eyes find mine, and my gaze drifts down his frame, remembering exactly how good he’d felt pressed against me.

Fuck.

I should’ve taken a few minutes to jerk off while I was outside. It might’ve cleared my head enough to get my shit together.

Aryn tilts his head in silent question, and I realize I’m staring. I look away, but there’s no avoiding him when my stuff is right beside him. I kneel to pack my sleeping bag, hyper-aware of him watching me. My heart beats a little faster as I wonder if he woke up at any point last night and noticed our snuggle session.

There’s no way he did. He was out cold and recovering.

Besides, Aryn’s never been one to hold back. If he had noticed, he would've called me on it already.

My eyes flick up to his. “How are you feeling this morning?”

“A lot better,” he says, stretching his arms overhead. “If that’s your roundabout way of asking whether I’m going to slow us down today, the answer is no. I’m mostly back to full strength.”

Relieved by the easy conversation, I relax a little as I finish packing. “Good. I don’t want to end up carrying your ass again.”

He chuckles as he climbs out of his bag. “No carrying required, but I’m going to remember this the next time I get injured saving your life.”

“Ah, that was a one-time thing, darlin’,” I tease with a wink. “A fluke. No one gets the jump on me twice.”

“So next time a wild animal launches itself at you, I should just let it happen?”

“We don’t know it was actually going to hurt me,” I argue. His brows shoot up, pure indignation written across his face as he gestures at his bandaged shoulder. I let out a low, rumbling laugh despite myself. “Come on, man. That thing wouldn’t have done shit to me. My spine’s too thick—”

“Oh, my gods,” he mutters.

“—and my muscles are too dense. It would’ve shattered its fangs trying to bite through all this.” I thump my chest once, the impact solid. “It probably would’ve chipped a tooth and gone looking for something softer.”