"He hugged me like I was the last thing left in this world
I hugged him back knowing he is my World."
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Aadam was sitting on the bed now, the sheets crumpled beneath him as he leaned back, looking at me with a smirk that made my stomach flip. He had that glint in his eyes, the one that made me equal parts exasperated and ridiculously in love.
I held the bug spray firmly in one hand, determinedly shaking it.
"You're acting like a child," I muttered, aiming the nozzle at his arm.
"Sweetheart," he drawled, watching me with amusement. "Do you really think the bugs are going to see me and go, 'Oh no, better not bite him; he smells like citronella?'"
I huffed, shaking the bottle for emphasis. I sprayed a generous amount onto his forearm and began rubbing it in. "Yes! That's exactly what's going to happen because I'm not letting you get eaten alive out there."
He laughed, a low, boyish sound that filled the room. "You're acting like I'm going into battle, not the woods."
"Well, it's the Highlands," I shot back, determined. "Anything could happen. There could be wolves, or-I don't know-giant bugs."
His laughter turned into a full-blown chuckle. "Giant bugs? Really, Rose?" He flexed his arms dramatically, the muscles rippling beneath his sweater. "I think I can take on a few mosquitoes."
"Hold still," I commanded, moving to spray his neck. He tilted his head obligingly, his grin never fading.
He smirked. "I'm not going to survive if you keep drowning me in this stuff. Do I look like I need this much bug repellent?"
"Yes," I said, matter-of-factly, "Do you want to get eaten alive by midges?"
"I'll take my chances," he quipped, leaning back, feigning nonchalance.
He's impossible sometimes. Why can't he just listen?
"Don't move," I said, leaning closer to spray his shoulders.
"You missed a spot," he teased, pointing to his chest.
I narrowed my eyes. "You're wearing a sweater. Nothing's going to bite you there."
"Better safe than sorry, right?" he quipped, tugging the neckline of his sweater down slightly to reveal a sliver of skin.
I huffed. "Well, take the sweater off if you're going to be so particular."
"Ah, bossy today, aren't we?" He lifted the hem of his sweater, tugging it over his head in one swift motion. "Happy now?"
Yes.
The thought flitted through my mind unbidden. His skin was warm, golden against the dim morning light filtering through the small bedroom window. He was perfection, and he knew it too well.
