It took me a moment to figure out what was happening, groggy as I was.

“Alex?” George’s voice was tight, trembling.

“Hmm?” I twisted to face him, blinking the sleep away from my eyes. George’s silhouette in the dark was illuminated by the faint orange glow of his night light. My eyes were gritty, but I forced them open with a grunt.

“I think I felt something inside my…um…my sleeping bag.” George sounded scared. I sobered. My brow furrowed. Immediately, I unzipped my sleeping bag enough that I could sit up. George hovered over my mattress.

“Somethingas in…?”

“Maybe…” George’s voice was small, his bottom lip wobbling. “A bug? Or…”

Jesus.

He was adorable when he was freaked out. I was averybad person for thinking that. Being self-aware didn’t make it better. But I couldn’t help the way I reacted to him. I ached to fix whatever was causing his current expression.

“Will you walk with me to the cabins? I think I’ll sleep there. Maybe on the floor?” George sounded defeated. Mortified. Like the last thing he wantedwas to appear weak in front of his family.

I latched on to his wrist, surprised by how cold his skin was.Jesus. How long had he been sitting on top of his sleeping bag before he’d decided to wake me and ask for help?

This wasn’t like him.

The shivering man beside me was vulnerable.

Small.

The same man who’d frozen up after reading a text from his ex.

“Alex?” George frowned, clearly confused by my lack of answer. I gave his wrist another squeeze then gently tugged him toward me.

“Get in.”

“What?” he squawked, but didn’t fight very hard as I grasped his hip with my other hand.

“Jesus, you’re freezing,” I hissed as the cold night air nipped at my fingers, the skin on his hip just as chilly as his fingers and wrist had been.

“What are you doing—” George’s voice was high-pitched as I yanked him where I wanted him. He tumbled onto my mattress with a startled huff. Quickly, I unzipped my sleeping bag the rest of the way. When it was open, I grabbed his slim waist and hauled him inside it.

“There,” I hummed, pleased. “Better?”

George was a block of ice beside me. Slowly, he nodded, eyeing me warily like he wasn’t sure what to expect. This way he wouldn’t have to feel vulnerable in front of anyone but me—a thought I liked, maybe too much.

Half-asleep, I felt like a caveman.

Possessive over him, especially in his rawest form.

Once he was settled, I reached around him to zip us inside. He was shivering. I ignored my own discomfort, pressing so close to his chilly body, that I knew he’d warm up in no time. I arranged his limbs, his back to my chest, allowing him to keep his facial expressions private.

My bare pecs brushed the soft cotton of his t-shirt—I wasn’t even sure whenI’d discarded mine—and my nose tickled the fuzzy strands of hair above his ears. I wanted to nibble on them—badly—but I managed not to through sheer force of will. An impressive feat, considering I was still in caveman mode.

“Get some rest,” I said for the second time that night. “I’ve got you, Georgie.”

To my surprise, George didn’t protest. He stayed stiff as a board though, and I respected him enough to not cross that distance, even though the chill of his body against my chest made me want to rub some heat into him—in more ways than one, if you get what I mean.

This time, George was the one who fell asleep first.

Exhausted by his own nerves, George’s body succumbed to sleep. His shivers settled. I made a mental note to crank up the temp on the heater the next night.

Like this, two peas in one pod, the scent of George’s shampoo was even stronger. Fruity and as sharp as he was. Sweet, too. I shifted to get comfortable, very aware of the sleeping man cushioning my chest—and my uncomfortably hard cock that I was doing my damndest not to touch him with. Apologizing to my balls—which were about to become blue—I reached into the tight space between our bodies to grind the heel of my palm against my aching dick.