Page 59 of Worth Fighting For

“But to be honest with you, I was kind of afraid of that,” Shang says. “You hear of these things happening all the time, and with our sales record, I know that our real value lies in our components, not our brand.”

“That’s not true,” I say. “I like your brand.”

Shang cocks an eyebrow.

“Okay, I think your brand has a lot of potential.”

Shang is wearing a smile I would very much like to wipe off. Possibly with my own mouth.Ew, why the hell did I just think that? Stop it, brain. Bad brain.

“In the right hands, your brand could become very…” Is it just me or is every word coming out of my mouth sounding super suggestive? “Uh, lucrative.”

“Interesting,” Shang says. Now it’s his turn to raise himself up on his elbow.

I try to ignore the way my blood pressure makes my head feel like it’s about to explode as Shang gazes down at me.

“And what are the right hands going to do to our brand?”

Damn it, now everything coming out ofhismouth sounds really suggestive. I mentally give myself a shake, trying to yank my mind out of the gutter. What am I, a fifteen-year-old kid with raging hormones?

“Um, a lot of things,” I say, fighting to keep my voice even. I raise myself up on my elbow once more so I’m at eye level with him. “But I can’t tell you, because we’re not partners yet, and that would be proprietary information.” Of course, now that I’m looking right at him, it hits me again how incredibly close we are. Mere inches separate us. I can see each individual eyelash, the smooth texture of his skin, and the way his nostrils flare ever so slightly as he stares at me.

“Hmm.” Shang’s gaze moves from my eyes down to my mouth, and I resist the urge to bite my lip. I part my mouth ever so slightly, and am delighted to hear a sharp intake of breath from him. Good, I’m not the only one whose mind is in the gutter tonight.

A moment passes, during which I imagine twining my arm around Shang’s neck and pulling him close. But then Shang abruptly turns away and lies back down. Feeling foolish, I settle back down on the towel as well, and we both resume staring at the top of the tent. This time, though, the silence is charged and not at all easy or comfortable. What little space there is between us feels electric, and I’m sure that if our elbows were to bump each other, even a tiny bit, I would spontaneously combust.

Shang shifts, and I stop breathing. He reaches over his head, pauses, and says, “Lights off?”

Disappointment washes over me. Maybe I’ve miscalculated after all. My voice comes out in a hoarse whisper. “Okay.”

He turns the lamp off and darkness floods the space, so absolute and so fast that I’m a little shocked. I’ve never known such blackness; back home, I’m used to a city that never quite falls completely asleep. There are always splinters of light coming from the streets below, creeping through my shades, and noises from passing cars. But now there is complete silence and complete darkness, and in the absence of light, I feel other senses firing up.

My hearing has become more sensitive since we came into the tent, but now my skin seems to tingle with the passing of air. As I listen to Shang’s breathing, I imagine that I can feel his breath caressing my skin. And his smell—God, his smell is everywhere, and it is intoxicating. A clean smell, although I don’t understand how that’s possible after the day we’ve had, but he smells of soap and light sweat and maybe a hint of cologne and it’s all I can do to stop myself from burying my nose in the nape of his neck.

From the way Shang is breathing, I can tell he isn’t asleep, either. We lie there in silence for an excruciating amount of time, and after a while, the exhaustion of the day catches up with me. Even though I’m still sorely aware of Shang’s presence next to me, my eyelids become heavier and heavier, more and more impossible to keep open. At some point, I manage to doze off.

I have no idea when I wake up, but I have a sense of some time passing, maybe an hour or two, and then waking up and finding myself still in complete darkness. But something is different. It takes a moment to realize what it is. I’m warm, comfortably warm, feeling utterly safe. And with a start, I realize it’s because somehow, as I slept, I’ve turned to my side and burrowed into Shang’s arms. Shang’s arms, which are at this very moment around me.

Time stops moving. My breath pauses mid-inhale. I don’t dare move a single muscle. I lie there, frozen, unsure what to do. I should slip out of his arms; otherwise it’s going to be so awkward come morning. But also, I really don’t want to. It’s bitterly cold, even inside the tent, and I don’t want to leave Shang, I want to lie soft in his arms and nuzzle my forehead into the crook of his neck and—

“What are you thinking?” Shang whispers.

I utter a soft gasp. “You’re awake?”

“Yeah.”

“How long have you been awake?”

“Um. From the time we went to bed?”

“You haven’t slept at all?” I say, horrified. “Have I been snoring? Have you been listening to me snore?”

“There wasn’t much else to listen to.”

“Shang!” I hiss.

He laughs. “For what it’s worth, it’s a really cute snore.”

“I can’t believe—” I ease myself up and feel Shang’s arms tightening a little around me, his hands wide across my back. I pause, whatever words I was about to say forgotten in the moment. The darkness around us is still complete, so it isn’t possible for me to see Shang’s expression, but I can sense it, the atmosphere around us turning soft, the unspoken words between us dissipating into thin air.

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