I had nothing. I found sanctuary in Orla’s tits, pressing lazy kisses all over them before I found the equilibrium to raise my head.
Her face was right there, her lips the first thing I saw. I kissed her. She kissed me.
And then she kissed Nash and I felt that stir in him. That surge. That tremble that rocked his entire frame for as long as she had her lips on him.
These two. If I’d had the energy, I’d have fucked them all night long. As it was, it was a fuckin’ struggle to stagger to the bathroom. I took a minute to clean myself up in the shower, an awkward-as-hell operation, considering how many dressed injuries I had to avoid.
I’d left the bathroom door open.
Nash slipped through it, as naked as I was, and it had fuck all to do with the clothes we’d left on the floor.
He stepped under the spray and helped me wash, saying nothing. I didn’t speak either, but the silence wasn’t loaded—not with anything bad. We needed to talk; I knew that. But as he ran careful hands over my ruined skin, all I could think about was throwing him against the tiles and fucking him like I had after Sea Rave. When he’d known full well that Priest was coming for me and let me inside his body without saying a damn word.
I waited for blinding rage to swamp me and erode the closeness we’d regained. I turned as Nash rubbed shampoo into my hair, but aside from the scattered sensation I couldn’t seem to shift, finally, I felt nothing but love for a man who deserved the fuckin’ world.
His fingers on my scalp were legitimate witchcraft.
I swayed on my feet.
He caught me. “Okay?”
“Yeah.”
Nash pressed his lips to my collarbone. Not arguing.
Not agreeing.
He finished mothering me and nuzzled my cheek. I wavered again but for different reasons. “Where’s our girl?”
Nash shut the water off. “Foraging.”
“That makes me picture her naked in the woods.”
“What’s that like?”
“Distracting.”
Nash laughed, his face lit up with the boyish grin of my dreams. “Hey, at least we have each other at the bottom of that rabbit hole.”
“I love you.”
He nuzzled me again. “I love you too.”
There was so much more to say, but I couldn’t construct a coherent sentence.
We dried off and went back to bed. Orla brought food and I ate the tiniest bit before I fell asleep with my head in her lap.
* * *
I woke a little while later to a snake pit of limbs and the faint haze of fake weed from Nash’s vape. Couldn’t say how long I’d been out, just that it was still dark and everyone was still naked.
Orla was asleep.
Nash was right fuckin’ there. I tucked a wayward blond curl behind his ear.
He turned his head, startled, and set the vape aside. “You’re awake?”
“Maybe.” My voice sounded like Saint’s—like I’d hauled it over jagged rocks to get to him. Tothem, as Orla’s soft, sleep-heavy breaths entered my awareness. “Are you okay?”