Page 23 of Escape from the Green

And she fell into an exhausted sleep.

It was maybe an hour later when I felt her roll into me, her whole face and torso colliding with my legs, letting out a low sound of approval at - I imagined - my warmth.

I looked down, seeing her pale lashes fluttered closed on cheeks that were no longer alarmingly red, lips not pale nor blue, feeling a sense of satisfaction that I had done the most basic thing I could do for her.

Keep her alive.

Keep her safe.

She made another murmuring sound as her arm rose, flinging across my thighs to hold onto more of my heat.

And I felt it.

Something I had no business feeling.

Because she was young.

Because she entrusted me to take care of her.

Because men like me didn't get to feel things for women like her, women who attracted the gazes of princes.

But there was no denying the way desire uncurled in my stomach, spread through my system, until there was a whole new reason my body was radiating heat.

My hands curled into fists at my sides, my jaw setting to steel as I gritted my teeth and simply felt the desire, knowing there was nothing I could do to ease it.

Even as she snuggled closer, her hand just inches away from a part of me that was begging to be touched.

Eventually, it eased.

And I found some rest as well, warmed by her body against mine just as her body stole from me.

There was an odd crackling sensation across my chest as I drifted off, something warm and light, thawing. Something that I maybe started to interpret as contentedness until sleep claimed me, wiping all memories of it away.

FIVE

Amy

I woke up slowly, snuggled up in warmth like I did most cold mornings, nestled under a pile of blankets to ward off the chill of the drafty compound walls and windows.

My eyes stayed closed, enjoying those silent morning moments, the ones that were mine alone, where the dregs of dreams swam warm and fuzzy around my head.

Like saving Drake.

Like escaping myself.

Pleasant dreams.

A loud whooshing noise finally made me take a deep breath, allowing the oxygen to wake up my sleepy system, my eyes opening, blinking uncomprehendingly at what was before me. A bit of a stone wall met with a makeshift pine branch one.

It was right about then, too, that I realized I wasn't in my bed made lumpy in predictable places from many nights of use, that the warmth wasn't coming from a pile of covers.

Oh, no.

My bed felt lumpy because it wasn't a bed at all, but rather the lap and legs of someone.

And I was warm because of their unexpected body heat.

I went to shift away, uncomfortable at the idea of having climbed up in his lap in my sleep, wanting to move away again before he woke and caught me. If he hadn't caught me already. But then I realized where my hand was, making me freeze.