“Are you okay?” I ask, alarm dipping low in my belly. He gives me a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “I’m okay. Are you okay?” “I’d be better if you weren’t sitting so far away from me,” I say, gesturing to the three large, square lengths of blanket between us. He’s close enough that he can extend his arm to reach me, but his body itself is practically on the other side of the blanket. Upon my answer, he scoots closer to me, dousing me in that sandalwood scent of his. I’m close enough that I can see the soft, fluctuating pulse in his throat, see the swell of his chest as he breathes.
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