51. Claire: Offer

51. Claire: Offer
CLAIRE

“Because,” Nik admits, voice rough, low, honest, “since the cabin… I can’t sleep. Not really. Not without you nearby.”

My breath catches and something inside my chest twists tight. I knew his protective instincts had flared recently, but I suppose I hadn’t realized quite how much those instincts had been riding on him. So caught up in everything else, I hadn’t fully grasped how deeply the time we spent together—exposed, vulnerable—had affected him. Had changed him. 

I scoot closer to him on the mattress, my thigh brushing his. Hesitantly, I reach over to place a reassuring hand on his arm. His muscles stiffen under my fingers, but he doesn’t move away, gradually relaxing into my touch. A warm tingling sparks to life in the places where my skin comes in contact with his. The simple touch has a hoard of butterflies fluttering to life in my stomach and goosebumps skittering over my skin that I pray he doesn’t notice.

Throat suddenly bone dry, I swallow hard.

“Nik,” I murmur, “this isn’t your fault. None of this is. You wouldn’t even be going through this—these instincts, these side effects—if it weren’t for helping me.”

His gaze finally flickers to mine. There’s something raw behind it. Not quite fragile. Just… stripped bare.

“I want to help you through it,” I tell him. “To make things easier for you. But you have to let me. You have to tell me what you need.”

“I don’t want to make you uncomfortable,” he says quietly. “You’ve been through enough already.”

“You being sleep-deprived and miserable is making me uncomfortable,” I shoot back, soft but firm. A twitch of a smile tugs at the corner of my lip and his eyes track the motion and his eyes soften.

“So,” I continue, forcing myself to be bolder that I normally would be, “You’re sleeping in here with me tonight.”

His eyes widen slightly. “Claire…”

“No arguments. But…you’ll have to sleep on the right side of the bed,” I gesture to the opposite side of the bed from where we’re sitting, “I always sleep on the left.”
“I can handle taking the left,” a small amused smile curls to life on his lips and the sight of it feels like something of a victory.

Nik hesitates—but only for a moment--then he moves to the other side of the mattress. It’s a struggle not to stare as he slides under the blanket, careful and deliberate. Trying not to think too much about what I’m about to do, I follow his lead, tucking myself back into the blankets. I’m suddenly hyper aware of the nearly silent sound of his breathing and every single move I make as I shift under the sheets as I try to get comfortable. I try my best to ignore what feels like a sparking current of electricity coming to life in the dark space separating our bodies. 

Nik stays on his side of the bed, stiff as a board.

I turn toward him in the dark. “You okay?”

He’s quiet. Then: “Can I—” He stops himself. Swallows. “Would it be okay if I touch you?” He asks, voice practically strangled, “Physical contact would make my inner predator relax knowing you’re not going to disappear in the night.”

My heart squeezes.

I nod before I can talk. “Yeah. Of course.”

I feel more than see as he slowly—so slowly—slides his hand to the center of the mattress and stops. Like he’s waiting for me to decide if I want to close those last few inches of space and place my hand into his. The quiet deference of the act has warmth spearing through my chest Without letting myself think too much about what I’m doing, I decide to take it one step further.

Instead of slipping my hand in his like he’s expecting, I do something neither of us anticipates. I roll over, scooting across the mattress until my back presses against his solid front.

I feel Nik’s entire body stiffen against me as my body makes contact with his. I don’t think he’s breathing.

After a few seconds, he breaks out of his shock. His arm slides around me, tentative at first, then tighter until I’m fully settled against him. Warm. Steady. Solid. He exhales into my hair like he’s been holding his breath all week.

And then we’re still.

Breathing.

He doesn’t say anything else. Neither do I.

We fall asleep like that—wrapped around each other in the dark—and for the first time in what feels like forever, everything in me is quiet.

Like maybe… this is exactly where we’re supposed to be.