Page 131 of Frozen Flames

We even played cards with Henrik and Claire, and as the hours passed, I felt exhausted. The usual tension between Henrik and Claire barely showed. Henrik was his chipper self, and my mom and Claire hit it off, to say the least.

Once my parents finally leave, Henrik gives me the biggest hug in the world. “I’m okay, brother,” I say, trying to reassure him.

He sighs. “I’m not letting you out of my sight. And I hid all your meds, FYI. Call me nurse Henny. When you need them, I’ll give them to you.”

Claire chuckles and shakes her head, and my brother doesn’t react badly as he stares at her.

Progress.

When Hen heads to his room to give us space, Claire and I keep staring at each other.

“What do you need from me?” she whispers. “I don’t want to overstep.”

“I’m beat.”

She nods. “You need rest.”

“Sleep next to me. I want to sleep holding your hand,” I tell her, simply adding, “Please.”

She gulps. “Okay. For tonight,” she clarifies, and I hate what it implies.

I don’t want her to leave again. I also don’t want her to feel forced, yet I know, deep down, that she wants this too.

Our relationship isn’t one-sided.

We both give and take and give and give.

We end up in my room, and I take off my shirt then transfer from my wheelchair to my lowered bed, settling in. I’m a little worried about sweating all over in my sleep. Some nights it can be pretty bad.

“I’ll just text Audrey and my mom,” Claire says, typing away on her phone.

I’m enjoying every second of her being in my room, without having to be for her job. She’s wearing jeans and a button-down blouse. I’m sure she dressed this way to meet my parents. If my mom wondered why Claire didn’t have her uniform on today, she didn’t comment on it, though I doubt she even noticed.

When she finally puts her phone on my night table, she removes her blouse, and I swallow, staring at her in a thin white top. She removes that next, then, to my surprise, turns to my closet to pick out a T-shirt of mine. She puts it on beforeremoving her bra and her jeans underneath the shirt as if I’ve never seen her naked.

I get it—she’s not sure about us.

Claire climbs in bed, and the act itself feels potent and tempting.

I hand her a pillow, since I already have two on my side. I want to pull her to me, but I decide not to push her too far. Besides, this moment is dreamlike enough as it is.

“Thank you,” I mutter.

“What for?” she whispers.

“Everything.”

“Oh, Harv,” she says, pushing my hair back gently as she lies on her side. When she settles onto her back, we end up holding hands—so close, yet too far away for my liking.

I’m afraid of what tomorrow will bring, I really am. I’m afraid I’ll wake up and she won’t be in my arms.

“Gemma apologized to me. We had a little talk.”

I sure hope it was a good one. “She better have. You didn’t deserve her anger.”

“I did, Harvey. I stole her man.”

I snort, like this is some high school bullshit. “Enough about her…”

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