I wake up slowly, the cool morning air brushing against my skin, and blink into the dim light filtering through the cracks in the hut. My body feels heavy, pressed against something warm, solid. Something... someone.

I freeze. My breath catches.

Jason. His body is tangled with mine, his hand... I look down, my heart skipping a beat. His hand is cupped over my breast, fingers gently squeezing.. What the hell?

I can't breathe. I can't think. I need to move. I twitch my hands, readying to flee when the thing I'm holding hardens impossibly and my eyebrows shoot up.

I look down before I can stop myself, swallowing at the way my hand had found itself beneath his boxers and is curled around the base of his dick. It twitches in my grip.

I jerk away from him, my skin prickling with heat as I rip his hand off me like it's on fire. My own hand, which had somehow ended up... I can't even process it, but it's too late now. It's been there, for god knows how long. I yank it away from him, as if I've touched flames, my skin burning with shame.

"Shit," I mutter, my voice hoarse, and I scramble to the edge of the hut, rolling away from him.

My heart is pounding so loud I can barely hear myself think, my face flushed with embarrassment and confusion. What the hell happened last night? I squeeze my eyes shut, hoping this is some kind of nightmare that'll just disappear when I open my eyes again.

But it's not. The heat in my skin, the way my breath still catches in my chest, it's all real.

I stand and reach for my clothes, throwing them on even though they're still wet from last night I don't care. I need to get out of here.

"Arden." Jason's voice cuts through the haze of my panic, low and groggy but he still sounds asleep and when I look over, his eyes are shut.

I walk out of the hut, feeling out of place.

• • •

Jason had found me laying on the beach, staring out at the lapping waves and come to a stop beside me before declaring we were doing more exploring today, holding out a hand for me to take. 

He hadn't brought up the fact that I'd woken up fondling him and fled.

I'm not even sure he knew.

Which brings us to now, pushing through a thick canopy of trees, the sound of bubbling water reaching us.

Jason is already reaching for his pants, discarding them quickly as he walks for the water.

The watering hole isn't like the first one we'd found—it's smaller, murkier, but right now, I don't care. The midday sun has us drenched in sweat, the heat pressing down like it's determined to flatten us to the ground. So, when Jason steps closer to the water, I don't argue. We've been wandering for what feels like hours, gathering whatever fruit we could find, but the thought of heading back now sounds impossible.

"Cool off?" he suggests, nodding at the water.

I shrug, pulling my shirt over my head. "Might as well." Out of the corner of my eye, I see him turn to give me privacy without me having to ask. I smile. The idea of letting my guard down around him feels stupid, but at the same time, almost two weeks stranded on this island has worn down my usual walls.

Jason steps into the water first, stretching his arms up with a groan. I slide in a few feet away from him, wading up to my waist, the cool water slowly cutting through the sticky heat clinging to my skin.

"Still no grand rescue, huh?" he mutters, as if he'd read my mind. "You think they'd have found us by now."

I glance up, squinting at the sky, where no planes, no helicopters, no anything are seen. Just clouds, passing slowly as if they've got all the time in the world. "Maybe we got sucked into a parallel universe," I say, half-joking.

Jason chuckles, but I catch a flicker of something serious in his gaze. We're both starting to wonder if we'll ever see home again.

He notices me watching him, and his mouth quirks. "Something on my face, Kitten?"

I didn't have the energy to snap at him for for the nickname this time, so I let it go.

I roll my eyes and turn away, focusing on rinsing the sweat and grime off my arms. "Just thinking I'd probably have better company back in civilization."

"Ouch." He winks, undeterred, and wades a bit closer but keeps his distance. For once, he respects our little agreement: no touching. Not even an accidental bump.

I run my hands over my neck and shoulders, trying to scrub off the sticky salt and sand that's been crusting on my skin, when something brushes my thigh. I roll my eyes. "Really funny, Jason."

"What?" His voice is close, but not close enough. I turn just enough to glare over my shoulder, but I can't see him.

"You're touching me," I accuse, the words sharp.

He laughs, shaking his head, wet strands of hair falling into his eyes. "This again? Maybe the snake came back to say hello."

I scowl, glancing down. "I know it's you."

"What could I possibly be doing to you all the way from over here?" His logic makes sense, but I can't shake the feeling he's messing with me. I turn, half-expecting to see a stick in his hand.

A chuckle reaches my ears, and I snap my eyes back up to his. "If you wanted to check out my dick, all you have to do is ask nicely, Kitten."

My cheeks flush when I remember I'd had that dick in my hands this morning. I scowl to cover it up. "Oh, fuck off." I splash water in his direction, and he dodges, laughing. I turn away, ignoring his smug grin. But then it happens again, that same brushing against my thigh, and this time, I splash the water, frustration bubbling up inside me.

"Stop it, Jason."

"Arden, I'm not doing anything." There's something in his voice, something serious that cuts through my irritation. I look over my shoulder, and sure enough, his hands are up, empty, in a show of surrender.

The thing brushes my thigh again, harder this time, and a cold shiver skitters down my spine. I look down, peering into the cloudy water, half-expecting to see a fish or a log.

My breath catches when I see it—a hand. Lifeless, bloated, with skin that's more grey than anything that was once alive should ever be. It floats up, fingers curled, almost like it's reaching out.

"Jason!" My voice is barely more than a gasp.

He follows my gaze, and I don't need to explain. He lunges toward me, his arms wrapping around my waist as he pulls me back, away from the horror below us. "Look away," he says, voice low and urgent. "Come on, we don't need to see that."

"But I—" I swallow hard, trying to remember that I'm supposed to be a nurse, someone who's seen worse. But right now, I don't feel like a nurse. I feel like a scared woman, clutching onto the one person I swore I wouldn't get close to.

Jason's hand moves to my face, tilting my head up, forcing me to meet his eyes. "You listen to me, Arden. We are not going to die here. Do you hear me?" His thumbs stroke my cheeks, his voice steady, grounding. "We're getting off this island. We are not going to end up like that."

"What if they're the one that built the shelter?" I mutter.

"We will not end up like them, were getting out of here."

There's a certainty in his gaze that I want to believe, but doubt festers, worming its way in. I nod, more to reassure him than myself, swallowing against the bile in my throat.

He holds my gaze a second longer, as if making sure I believe him, then wraps his arm around my shoulders, guiding me out of the water and onto solid ground. "Let's rest up," he says softly. "Just for a bit. Then we'll head back and wash properly."

I let him guide me, my mind buzzing with images of that body, the way it floated there, so close to us. I don't know how long we sit there in silence, the weight of what we saw settling over us like a heavy blanket. But Jason doesn't let go, and for once, I'm glad he doesn't.

For the first time since we got stranded, I wonder if we'll ever really get out of here. If we're going to die on this island, lost to time and memory.

• • •

The relief that fills me when I see the lagoon is strong, almost a palpable energy and I can see Jason feels the same. He doesn't even say anything as he strips once more and wades in, washing away the day's events.

The water slips over my skin, but I hardly feel it, my mind numb to the sensation of cool water, all that's filling my thoughts is that whoever that person was, they died alone.

"Arden?" Jason's voice is soft, probing and I feel the water shift behind me as he walks closer. "Look at me."

I don't turn, staring at the water rippling around me as I sway.

"Arden-"

"Jason... that could be us," I whisper, the words spilling out before I can stop them. "Who knows how long that person's been out here? Nobody came for them. Nobody's coming for us."

"Hey, stop," he says firmly, turning me so that we're face to face. His hands cup my face, his thumbs brushing along my cheekbones as he holds my gaze. "Arden, we're not going to die here. I swear to you, we're going to make it."

But his words don't break through the fear closing in on me, the stark realization that we might be as forgotten as that body in the water. Before I can think twice, I curl my hand around his neck and pull him toward me, crashing my lips against his in a fierce, desperate kiss.

He pulls back slightly, his gaze full of worry. "Arden... you're upset, emotional. I can't—"

"Shut up, Jason," I whisper, my voice hoarse. "Just kiss me. I don't want to die out here."

He hesitates, searching my eyes, and I know he's trying to protect me, to keep his distance. To do what I'd asked of him, but right now I don't care. The thought of another night alone, cold and silent, breaks something in me. "Please, Jason," I whisper, my fingers tightening in his shirt. "Just... distract me."

Something in him snaps, and suddenly his mouth is on mine, urgent and unrestrained, like he's giving in to every impulse he's been holding back. His hands slide around my waist, pulling me close, and I lose myself in the feel of him, the warmth of his touch, the grounding presence of his body against mine. We move back to the shore, sinking into the sand as his lips move over mine, his kisses hungry and all-consuming, as if he's trying to imprint himself into my memory.

We break apart, breathless, our foreheads pressed together as he brushes a strand of hair from my face. "We're going to get out of here," he murmurs, his voice fierce. "I promise."

But in this moment, I don't care about promises or plans. All I want is this, this moment that feels like freedom, a chance to forget the reality pressing in around us. I pull him back down, letting the world fade away, just for tonight.

The kiss turns gentle, almost hesitant, as if he's afraid I might pull away. But I don't. I press closer, deepening the kiss, letting the taste of him fill my senses. His hands tighten on my waist, pulling me against him, and I can feel the heat between us, the way our bodies are reacting to each other, the way everything else seems to fade away.

But then reality crashes back in, and I pull back, my breath coming in ragged gasps. "This is just sex," I say, my voice harsher than I intend. "Nothing more."

He looks at me, his eyes searching mine, and I can see the question there, the doubt. But I can't let him get any closer, can't let him think this is something it's not. "I mean it, Jason. Nothing more. If you want more then don't start this with me."

He's silent for a long moment, and I can see the gears turning in his head, can see him weighing his options. And then, finally, he nods, his expression unreadable. "Nothing more," he repeats, his voice steady, even though I can hear the edge in it.

There's a beat of silence, heavy with unspoken words, and then he leans in again, his lips finding mine, and this time the kiss is different—hotter, more desperate, like we're both trying to drown out everything else, to lose ourselves in the only thing that makes sense right now.

His hands are everywhere, tracing the lines of my body, pulling me closer, and I can't stop the moan that escapes my lips as he presses me against the edge of the lagoon, the water cool against my back, his body hot against mine. I dig my fingers into his shoulders, needing to feel him, needing to anchor myself to something real, something solid.

We move together, the kiss deepening, our bodies pressing closer, and for a moment, it's like nothing else exists—just him and me and this moment. But even as I lose myself in him, there's a part of me that's screaming, that's trying to remind me of the promise I made to myself, of the walls I've built up over the years.

Because I can't let him in. Not like this. Not now, not ever. This has to stay physical, has to stay on the surface, because anything deeper would destroy me.

So I pull back again, breaking the kiss, my chest heaving with the effort it takes to put distance between us. He looks at me, his expression a mix of frustration and something else I can't quite name, but he doesn't push. He just nods, accepting my boundaries, even though I can see the conflict in his eyes.

"Nothing more," I say again, my voice trembling slightly, but I force myself to hold his gaze, to make sure he understands.

"Nothing more," he repeats, but there's a weight to his words, a promise that I know neither of us fully believes.

And then he kisses me again, and I let myself get lost in him, even as I know that this can't last. Even as I know that this is dangerous and stupid.

I'm so fucking stupid.

But for now, it's enough to pretend that this is all there is—that this is just sex, just a way to pass the time, just a way to keep the fear at bay.

His hands are on my body, running along my skin like he doesn't know where to touch first, what he wants to do. I wrap my arms around his neck, pulling myself up higher, sinking into his kisses as my nipples scrape up the rough planes of his chest, peeking instantly.