I sighed. “Whatever are we going to do. Only one room with only one bed.”
The innkeeper protested. “Have you not heard a word I have said to you?”
Giving up, Bryce leaned over the counter and held out a hand. “I’d like one room, please. With one bed.”
The room was small but cozy, with a simple, small bed, and a fireplace that coated the wooden beams and cream plaster in hues of warmth.
I wasn’t sure if Bryce had requested one bed because we’d come to an unspoken agreement not to sleep alone in this strange world, or because… because our perfect afternoon had affected him like it had affected me.
But he didn’t make a move as we readied ourselves for bed, and soon, we were bidding each other good night as we pulled the sheets over our shoulders.
I closed my eyes. The fire burned low, the air chilled, and still, sleep didn’t come.
Sleep didn’t come, but I wanted to. I tried to remember all the reasons we’d agreed to never grow close. I couldn’t recollect a single one.
Slowly, I scooted my way toward the center of the bed. The unused sheets were freezing, but Bryce’s body radiated heat inches away.
Bryce made a soft noise, rolling onto his side, his hand flopping across my stomach. I looked from his face to his hand and back again. He breathed evenly, eyes closed. Asleep.
Inch by inch, so as not to wake Bryce, I scooched closer until I pressed against his side. His hand slid to my lower belly, then over my hip. The contact burned through my thin underdress. I almost forgot the reason I’d come over here was because I was cold.Coldwas a distant memory.
I jumped when Bryce spoke. “What are you doing?” His voice was deeper than normal—slower, too, thick and sluggish from drowsiness. It slid over me like a heavy blanket, providing the same false sense of security a blanket did—because, let’s face it, the thought of Bryce protecting anything was hilarious.
I found my voice. “I was watching you sleep. In the creepy way, not the cute way. You look so peaceful with your mouth shut. If a person didn’t know you, they’d never guess what a massive doorknob you are.”
He grinned wickedly and cracked an eye. “You think my knob is massive—confirmed.”
“Shut up, Bryce.”
He closed his eyes again. “If you wanted to cuddle, you could’ve asked.”
“I don’t want tocuddle. I’m cold.”
“What am I supposed to do about that if you don’t want to cuddle?”
“We should huddle for warmth.”
“So, cuddling.”
“Huddling.”
Bryce grunted. “Fine, but I’m little spoon.” But he didn’t move, thumb trailing a slow circle around my hip.
His touch was painfully affectionate. The unfamiliarity of it washed waves of raw vulnerability over me. I clenched bedsheets in my fists but couldn’t hold back a shiver.
“Are you actually cold?” Bryce sighed, and I nodded, teeth chattering from things that had nothing to do with the temperature. The strange, nervous lightness to my stomach sent trembles through my limbs and made it hard to think.
Bryce seemed to debate for a long,longmoment.
“C’mere,” he mumbled, fingers tightening around my hip as he pulled me back into him, tucking me against his chest. His heart thudded between my shoulder blades, his breath tickling my neck. His arm around my waist tightened, and he sighed against my hair.
I twined my feet with his, and he grumbled a protest at my chilled toes, but let me stuff them between his calves anyway.
“Bad night,” I wished him with a fake yawn, nestling myself against him comfortably.
Bryce caught on immediately, murmuring back a soft “Sleep loose.”
“Sour dreams.”
