Eros

Chapter Forty-Three

After Ronan's departure, they all headed back towards their tents, more than happy to put those events behind them, though they couldn't be ignored.

Eros kept a hand on Angie for the entire walk back, just in case he should need to fight off some threat in the night.

After Ronan, he doubted anyone else would come for a try.

Inside the tent, Angie stashed the remote thing from the warlock inside of her bag where it rested, still wrapped up in a part of Eros' shirt.

One bothersome artefact to another.

There really was no escape.

She watched Eros zip the tent back up, his hand on her ankle all the while. She watched him check the zip too, once, twice, then a third time.

Evidently, he was still on edge. That whole thing with the warlock had rattled him.

"Hey," She said, squeezing his arm in a bid to comfort him. "I'm right here you know."

Maybe if he could see she was fine he'd have a better chance at believing it.

He closed his eyes for a minute, listening to her speak, letting it sink in. Then he took her hand and gave it a good squeeze. "I know Angie. I know."

"Then why are you still worrying?"

"I'm still worrying because you worry me. It's your fault for being easy to worry about."

"Nothing else is coming. Relax."

He grabbed her face, cupping her cheeks. "Next time, I don't care if I'm going through a moment, you come and tell me."

"What, so you can come with me?"

"Of course."

She smiled. "I wanted some alone time."

"I'd have strolled behind you."

Her lips twisted. "I'd have known you were there."

"Would it have mattered?"

This wasn't a fight she'd be winning.

"Why don't we hope that there isn't a next time rather than planning for one?"

"I like that idea."

"I thought you might."

She laid her head back on the sleeping bag, trying to get comfortable. This time, it was impossible. It'd gotten hot, unbearably hot.

Groaning in agitation, she slipped her shorts down her legs and flung them aside.

"Tell me it's not this warm in your home."

Trying to relax, he gave her an easy smile. "It's a little cooler than this."

"Thank fuck. How did you survive this every day? It's horrible."

"You'll get used to it."

"I don't think I will."

"Trust me, you will." God, why did it sound like there was a deeper meaning there? Angie wanted a deeper meaning. Now she had these feelings, she wasn't ready to throw them away. He reached out, tucking some muddy blonde hair behind her ear. "I'm not leaving you alone again."

"It was one time. I've managed twenty-three years on my own."

"Fuck knows how."

"Intelligence, strength and-"

He leaned in towards her face, lips puckered. "Luck."

"No."

"Yes. It's all been luck. With reckless moves like the one you pulled the night we met, you won't convince me otherwise. Reckless and lucky."