Page 72 of Cloudy With a Chance of Bad Decisions

So adorable.

Fuck.

Even though I desperately desired to climb on top of him and lace kisses along the scratchy corner of his jaw, I didn’t. I’d bet anything the stubble that’d formed would be gone in the morning. Which was…such a shame, really.

“Let’s get some rest,” I said, because I wanted to hear him talk again, and I wasn’t sure what else to say.

“I can’t.”

“You…can’t?” I frowned up at the dark ceiling before remembering—like an idiot—the lamp his mother had given me. I was quick to rise, hunting for it, and flicking it on. With it in the back corner of the tent, its soft, unobtrusive glow was enough to chase away the shadows.

“Better?” I confirmed, climbing back into bed.

“I hate that she told you about that,” George muttered to himself. Deliberately, he shuffled around so his back faced me, obviously embarrassed.

“I’m glad she did.”

“You’re probably making fun of me in your head.” He countered grumpily, his shoulders tense, the hair at his nape slightly more dry than the longer waves up top.

“I can promise you I’m not.”

George didn’t speak again. Not even to complain about his sleeping bag, or the cold, hard ground, or the fact that his pillow was flatter than a pancake and covered in water damage.

“Here.” I tossed him one of mine. It hit his back, and he made the angriest little noise in the world, snatching it up and launching it right back at me.

“Baby, it’s for your neck.” The pet name slipped out before I could stop it. It was no surprise George didn’t catch it, though. Instead, he assumed I wasmaking fun of him.

“Itoldyou not to baby me,” he snapped.

“That isn’t what I’m doing and you know it.” Damn, he was stubborn.

There was just…something about George that made me want to treat him right, even if he was resistant to such care. So I chucked the pillow at him again, harder this time. He caught the pillow before it hit him in the face. “Throw this at me one more time and I’m going to strangle you in your sleep,” he hissed.

“You know, you throw that threat around a lot,” I hummed. George made an annoyed sound. “I’m starting to think without a pen to stab with, you’re all talk.”

“Alex.” The way he said my name sent another fizzle between my legs.

Softening my tone, I wiggled like a giant caterpillar to the edge of my mattress so that we were only a few inches away from one another. “I can’t rest if I know you’re down there stiff and uncomfortable.”

George’s long, elegant fingers strangled my pillow, like he was imagining it was my neck.

“Please?” My voice dipped silky low. Woah. I don’t think I’d ever begged. Especially not for something as silly as this. “Take the pillow. Get somerealrest. You’d be doing me a favor.”

He deflated, clutching the pillow tight and nodding. And then, like a grouchy cat, he beat it into submission beneath his head. When he’d decided it was abused enough, he turned on his side away from me, and settled down for the night again.

This time, he was far less stiff.

“Thanks,” he said, voice quiet. Quiet enough that I wasn’t sure he’d meant for me to hear at all. “For the pillow. And for…you know, earlier.”

I hadn’t expected gratitude. My heart tripped as I stared at his back, hands sweaty. I felt as off-kilter as I had the night before when I’d lain awake, desperate to figure out how I could get on his good side. “You’re welcome.”

Listening to his breathing made me relax. Despite myself, I dozed, the steady puff of George’s breath soothing me. It’d been a long time since I slept beside someone else. Hook-ups were gone when the deed was done. It was a line I’d set for myself, so I’d never get my hopes up.

This was…nice.

So close to what I wanted, even if it wasn’t.

Some time later, I was startled awake by the brush of cold fingers against my shoulder. The muted whirr of the space heater buzzed in the background. Outside the tent, crickets chirped, and the wind whistled through the trees on the edge of the property. Above, the mesh panel showed the stars above.

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