"What the … are you naked?" he demands quietly, the amount of surprise in his voice making me smile.
"Not naked," I reply calmly. "I didn't have raingear and was soaked to the bone. Move."
For the first time since we've met, I'm pretty sure I just shocked the shit out of him. And I'm proud.
He shifts around again and I wriggle my way into the warm sleeping bag, my back at his solid one. A trickle of surprise and desire go through me. He's naked to the waist, and his warm skin is pressed to mine.
"Oh, god, this feels good," I groan. "I hate being cold."
He says nothing. I can't begin to imagine what's going through his head right now. I do think that I've finally won a round between us. Warmth sinks into me, and I relax.
"Thanks," I murmur.
"No problem."
The words are forced, like his offer.
This guy really hates me. It's kind of odd. I guess I'm not surprised, given our conversations. Yet there are times when I think the opposite, that there's a part of him interested or at least, human. Maybe he only hates me part-time.
If that was the case, I don't think he'd be freaked out about me being in my bra and underwear.
I'm not sure why that amuses me. Snug, warm and satisfied about surprising Captain Mathis, I drift off quickly, listening to the sounds of the rain and the distant rumble of thunder.
***
Some time later, I wrench out of deep sleep, alarmed. Lightning lights up the pup tent as bright as day. The smash of thunder immediately follows, strong enough to make the ground shake. My heart is flying, my adrenaline racing through my blood.
But it's not the storm that woke me.
Captain Mathis is thrashing, struggling in the sleeping bag, mumbling names and shouting words I can't understand. He managed to roll over me, and the sensation of being temporarily unable to breathe is what scared me out of sleep.
Night terrors. Like Petr used to get.
I prop myself up on my arm, twisted up in the sleeping bag with him. Our legs are tangled, and I'm lying half on top of him.
"Hey," I whisper, resting a hand on his arm. "Wake up, Sawyer."
He calms at my touch without waking. His head goes back and forth, and I recall what Petr told me about the dreams. He said it was like being trapped in a nightmare that was too real, one based on something terrible that happened. For him, he wasn't able to get past the night Mikael died. Over and over, he watched our brother die, every night for weeks.