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don’t drool,” he countered.
    “Tell that to ma shoulder.”
    “Huh, well I’ll try and stay on my side tonight if I can.”
    It wasn’t like him curling up to me had woken me up or anything. On the contrary, I fell asleep in my bag by myself and I slept through ’til morning. And when I did wake up entwined with a straight guy like it was the most natural thing in the world, it was around the time I usually woke up, so I really had nothing to complain about. I hadn’t mentioned it because regardless of how cool this new Trystan seemed to be, I did not want to risk any of the old hostility returning.
    Yet he stared at me now and seemed genuinely more bothered about pissing me off than getting cozy with a gay guy.
    “Can I get a copy of those pictures, Ide?” Jorja quirked up from beside me as we all clambered out of the water to dress and head back to camp. Trystan shot her the finger. He did it again when he caught her blatantly staring at his arse as he pulled his jeans on. But nothing changed. He ribbed my sunburn with everyone else. Sat next to me at dinner, stole my toothpaste, and fell asleep next to me with a last moan at the heat.
     
     
    “I DE , IT ’ S too bloody hot,” someone was muttering in my ear. Their actions were completely contradicting their complaints as they pressed their face in closer to my neck and slipped the firm sweaty leg that was between my calves higher up above my knees—so much for trying to stay on his own side.
    “Open the door then, idiot.” I was still half-asleep as I tried to extract myself from the claustrophobic heat of the embrace.
    An unintelligible curse filled my ear and then the heat peeled away. I reveled in the cool and the breeze that washed through as the sound of a zipper filled the night.
    “Mmm, sorry,” Trystan murmured as he settled back on his side of the tent. He turned himself over and was breathing deeply again in moments. I wondered if he noticed his feet slide straight over and find mine. I let them be; the contrast of warm skin against the breeze wasn’t too bad.
     
     
    “S O ,” THE single syllable hissed into my ear was full of silken promise. “This was why you didn’t say anything, eh?” I could feel the lips that formed the words were only millimeters from my skin. A shudder wracked my half-asleep body as my senses were suddenly flooded with too much information.
    It was still early, judging from the gray light working its way through the walls of the tent. Clearly it had gotten cold again at some point, because for the first time all week, my sleeping bag was actually over me. I was huddled on my side and although my nose was chilly and my sleeping bag wasn’t really doing all that much, I wasn’t particularly cold. Probably because of the body that was spooned tightly against my spine. Our legs were entwined as usual, but there was a hand tucked around my torso. Unbelievably—even for my sleep-addled head—the fingers of that hand were teasing ever so lightly against the faint definition of muscle that was the closest to a six-pack I could manage.
    The fingers were nice. But that only registered somewhere deep in my brain because all my consciousness was able to do was try to compute the unmistakable mass that was pressed against my ass.
    “It wasn’t this bad.” I concentrated on holding myself very still because I was almost certain that Trystan had just rolled his hips against mine, pressing his erection into my arse—which was far too suggestive and my brain was having trouble keeping up with the fact I wasn’t supposed to be getting turned on.
    “Must have gotten cold; shut the door and go back to sleep,” I said, and I was glad that the faint notes of appreciation for his actions were hidden in my sleep-gruff voice.
    But he definitely rolled his hips that time, and in response, my body released a delicious—and thoroughly inappropriate—wave of heat.
    “I’m not really in the mood for sleeping,” he whispered