Page 19

Troy

I knew I had interrupted something the second I walked back into the cabin.

Elena and Adrian were both acting off.

Elena was settled back into the raft, her damp hair loose around her shoulders, her book open in her lap, but she wasn’t reading. Her fingers kept absently curling around the edges of the pages, her focus darting toward Adrian occasionally before snapping back to the book.

On the other hand, Adrian wasn’t even trying to pretend he wasn’t affected. His shoulders were tense, his hands curled into fists at his sides, and his expression closed off in a way that only I could read. He wasted no time going into the bathroom without a word.

Something had happened. It pissed me off that I didn’t know what.

But I didn’t press it. Not yet.

Instead, I settled beside Elena, sinking into the spot that had slowly become mine over the past few days.

She didn’t say anything. She didn’t even glance at us, but she didn’t move away either.

So I let her be, watching as she finally seemed to relax, her body growing heavier against the blankets .

It wasn’t long before she dozed off, her head tilting naturally against my shoulder.

And just like that, I was fucked.

The warmth of her body seeped into mine, the soft, steady rhythm of her breathing syncing with my own. My ribs still ached from the crash, but I didn’t care. I didn’t move her.

Because I liked this.

I liked her weight against me, the way her breath tickled my neck, the way she just fit.

I liked her needing me.

The realization hit me like a punch to the gut, but I didn’t push it away.

Not this time.

I let it sit there, simmering beneath my skin as she curled closer, shifting slightly until her head rested on my chest.

My ribs protested at the added weight, but I still didn’t move her.

I couldn’t.

Because for the first time since we crashed, I felt something that wasn’t fear or frustration.

I felt content.

A long time passed, the fire crackling beside us, the snowstorm howling outside. I lost track of time, lost track of everything except her.

Finally, the bathroom door opened.

Adrian stepped out, his damp hair curling slightly at the edges, his shirt clinging to his skin from the cold.

His focus zeroed in on Elena, his green eyes darkening when he saw her curled up against me.

He scowled, his lips pressing into a thin line before he stomped to his spot and sat down heavily, shoulders rigid.

I frowned.

“What’s your problem?” I muttered.

Adrian didn’t look at me. “Nothing.”

I wasn’t buying it.

I pressed again. “Seriously, what’s up with you?”

Adrian snapped .

His voice was sharp, but he kept it at an angry whisper, careful not to wake Elena.

“What the hell is she doing sleeping on you?”

I blinked at him, caught off guard by the vehemence in his tone.

“She just fell asleep that way,” I said, frowning. “I don’t mind.”

Adrian’s glare hardened. “Why don’t you mind?”

The question left me speechless.

I just sat there for a moment, my throat dry, my mind scrambling for the right words.

Finally, I swallowed hard, my Adam’s apple bobbing, and admitted, “Because I like it.”

Adrian stared at me, his eyes narrowing.

I exhaled slowly. “I like it when she’s near me. I like her needing me.”

Adrian’s expression shifted, something unreadable flashing in his eyes before he asked, voice low, “Do you feel that way with Amanda?”

The mention of her name sent a sharp, uncomfortable pang through my chest. I knew the answer before I even had to say it.

“No,” I whispered.

I had never felt like this before.

Not with Amanda.

Not with anyone.

Silence stretched between us, heavy with unspoken things.

I looked at Adrian, remorse twisting inside me. Guilt. Sadness. There were so many emotions, and I wasn’t sure how to sort them.

He sighed and looked away, his jaw tightening before finally whispering, “I feel something, too.”

His voice was bitter. Defeated.

I hated it. I hated seeing him like this—seeing him struggling with the same feelings that were wrecking me.

I was quiet for a long time before finally saying, “Maybe we should do something about it.”

Adrian’s head snapped toward me, his eyes wide with shock.

“What?” he hissed.

I shrugged, glancing down at Elena’s sleeping form, fondness creeping into my chest despite everything .

“I know it sounds crazy,” I admitted. “But if this is it, if this is all we have left, maybe she will feel the same.”

Adrian was quiet.

Then, slowly, his lips twisted into a scowl. “And what if she tells us to get bent? It’ll make for an uncomfortable time.”

I smirked, glancing at him. “Then we’ll have an uncomfortable stay in close quarters. At least, I can say I tried. Same for you if you go for it.”

Adrian stared at me for a long moment before finally exhaling and looking down at her.

His expression softened, and something painful slipped into his features. He stared for a long time as if committing every detail to memory.

Then, finally, he sighed.

“Good night,” he muttered, closing his eyes.

I watched him for a while before turning back to Elena, my mind spinning.

Was this the right thing to do?

Or were we just making things worse?

I woke to the feeling of movement against my chest.

My eyes flickered open, and I found Elena staring at me.

For a second, I was caught in the moment, caught in the warmth of her pressed against me, caught in the way the firelight flickered in her blue eyes.

Instinctively, I reached out, cradling her face in my palm.

“You okay?” I murmured.

She swallowed, her lashes fluttering slightly. “My ankle hurts.”

My heart squeezed.

I hated seeing her in pain.

“Is there anything I can do for you?” I asked softly.

She shook her head sadly. “Time heals all wounds, right?”

I frowned, hating the sound of the resignation in her voice .

We fell into quiet conversation, the warmth of the fire casting long shadows across the wreckage.

At some point, the conversation shifted.

It turned into something more.

I don’t know how we got there, but suddenly, I was asking about her love life.

She laughed, the sound soft and sad.

“I’ve never had one,” she admitted.

That surprised me.

She looked at me, amused at my expression. “No one’s even ever kissed me before.”

My chest tightened at the knowledge.

She sighed, shaking her head. “Guess I’ll probably die out here without ever being kissed. But I’m good with that. Silly, isn’t it?”

I couldn’t let that happen. There was no way she wasn’t going to get kissed. I leaned in slightly, watching how she nervously bit her bottom lip.

“I can’t fix a lot of things about this situation,” I murmured. “But I can fix that.”

Her eyes widened. Her breathing shook.

I reached out, cradling her face again, my thumb brushing her cheek.

Her scent hit me—fresh flowers and citrus—and my heart pounded wildly in my chest.

I was so close now—a breath away. I could feel her shaking, see the caution in her gaze, and feel the anticipation.

But I wouldn’t push. I wouldn’t take what wasn't mine without her giving it freely.

“Can I kiss you?” I whispered.

She swallowed, her lips parting slightly before she whispered back, “Yes.”

And that was it.

I closed the distance, my lips brushing over hers gently, my fingers threading through her silken hair.

She was better than I imagined .

I deepened the kiss, and she parted her lips, letting me in.

And in that moment, I knew.

I was done for.

Because I never wanted to stop kissing her.

And maybe... I never would.