Page 74 of Knot Your Sugar Rush (Starling Grove #2)

Chapter seventy-four

Dane

T he fire is nothing but embers now, soft and breathing like a sleeping thing. The night has gone still in that way it only does past midnight, when even the wind seems to think better of making noise. Above, the stars have spread themselves wider, glittering sharp through the cold air.

Everyone else is out.

Cam is warm against my chest, curled so naturally into me it’s like she’s been here her whole life.

Jamie is at her back, steady and protective even in sleep, and Theo is a dark silhouette beyond them, one arm draped over both like he’s set himself as a guardrail against the rest of the world.

Their breathing falls into a rhythm that makes my own lungs want to match it.

I don’t sleep.

Not because I’m restless. Not because I’m worried. But because for once, I just… don’t want to miss this.

Cam shifts, just enough to nudge her nose into my shirt, and I feel it—her inhale, the little hum of contentment she doesn’t even know she makes.

My arm tightens around her instinctively, and I let my hand settle at her waist. I can feel her heartbeat, slow and steady, tapping through my palm like it’s trying to sync with mine.

I’ve been happy before, in pieces. In passing moments that never seemed to last. But this… this is different. This is the kind of quiet that fills all the empty places without me having to ask it to. I don’t have to work for it. I don’t have to earn it. I just have to be here.

And for once, being here feels like enough.

The night smells like pine and cooled ash, like faint smoke in my hair, and—because the world likes to test me—like Cam.

Sweet and warm and unmistakably hers, a scent that sinks into me and makes my chest ache in the best way.

She shifts again in her sleep, and I tuck the blanket higher over her shoulder so she won’t lose a bit of heat.

I let my eyes drift over them—Jamie’s jaw slack in the kind of sleep you only get when you feel safe; Theo’s face half-hidden in the shadows, but his brow uncreased for the first time in days. Cam between them, between us, like she’s the anchor tying us together without even trying.

I don’t know what tomorrow looks like. I don’t know if the flower will be where we hope it is, or if it even matters in the grand scheme of things. I don’t know how long we get to keep this little pocket of warmth before life starts demanding things from us again.

But I know right now. And right now is mine.

I lower my face to the crown of her hair and breathe her in, slow and deep. My heart feels too big for my ribs. There’s no strategy to plan, no move to make—just the weight of her in my arms, the softness of her hair against my cheek, the knowledge that I would do absolutely anything to keep this.

So I hold her. And I let myself be happy. And I slip away.

The next thing I notice is the soft gray light brushing against my closed eyelids. Dawn, thin and cool, slipping through the canopy above us. The second thing is the weight in my arms—still there, still warm.

Cam hasn’t moved, though at some point in the night her face ended up tucked under my chin, her breath slow against my throat. Jamie’s arm is still curled protectively around her waist from the other side, and Theo… well, Theo’s awake. I can feel it before I see it.

He’s sitting up now, firelight traded for daylight, map already in his hands. Of course.

I don’t want to move. Not yet. There’s something about the way the air smells in the morning—clean pine, damp earth, the faint bite of cold—that makes me want to pull the blanket tighter and keep all of us cocooned in it for a few more minutes.

But eventually Cam stirs. She hums softly, stretching just enough to press closer before blinking up at me. Her hair’s a mess, her cheeks still warm from sleep, and she gives me a smile so soft it makes my chest ache.

“Morning,” she whispers.

“Morning,” I answer, voice still rough from not talking all night.

Theo looks up at us, eyes bright in the early light. “If we start by midmorning, we can be at the next spot before lunch.” His tone is calm, but I know him well enough to hear the thread of excitement under it.

Cam shifts, pushing up on one elbow. “You found something?”

He nods, unfolding the map so it catches a beam of sunlight. “There’s a shallow valley two ridges over. The conditions match everything we’ve read—shade, runoff from the hills, protected from wind. If the flower’s anywhere near here, it’s there.”

Jamie’s awake now too, blinking through his hair. “Sounds like we’ve got our target.”

There’s no hesitation from Cam. No flicker of the uncertainty I’ve seen in her before. She just nods, slow but certain. “Then let’s go.”

We start moving, each of us falling into a rhythm that’s become second nature. Theo packs away the map, Jamie braces his leg without a word from any of us, and I help Cam to her feet, brushing leaves from her hair as she grins at me.

No one teases Jamie about the way Theo and I make sure he’s steady. No one has to say anything when I take a little more of the weight from his pack. We just do it.

By the time we break camp, the sun is filtering through the trees in gold streaks, the air carrying that sharp, alive scent you only get in the mountains.

Cam is between us, laughing quietly at something Jamie says, and for a moment I can almost see it—what it might look like if this wasn’t temporary.

Theo catches my eye over her head, and I know he’s thinking the same thing.

We set out, the forest swallowing the sound of our boots, four shadows moving as one toward whatever’s waiting for us in that valley.