Chapter 10 Henry cradles my head against him, my cheek pressed to the solid warmth of his chest as I trace lazy circles along his abdomen. The fire crackles beside us, its glow casting flickering shadows across his chiseled features, and for the first time since we crash-landed here, my stomach isn't clawing at my spine with hunger. The two fish he caught this morning, along with the breadfruit he gathered, have left us as full as we can get in a situation like this. And though the night air holds a noticeable chill, Henry's body heat is more than enough to keep me warm. Normally, I'd look at my weather app to see how long the chill will last, but without technology, our only choice is to wait it out. And somehow, cuddling with Henry has become second nature-so natural, it wasn't even a question. Henry plays with my hair the way he does every night before we fall asleep. The motion is slow and hypnotic, like he's memorizing the texture, like he actually enjoys the feel of me against him. And my body sinks more into his, boneless and relaxed, and if I weren't so aware of the ridiculous crush I used to have on him, I might pretend this is just about survival. Sister, that crush has never really gone away. And right now, it's threatening to claw its way back up to the surface. "I know I'm normally in my own world," I murmur, my voice quiet in the firelight. "But even I know I wouldn't be surviving at all right now if it weren't for you." Henry chuckles, the deep rumble vibrating through my body. "You're holding your own, Ave." I huff. "Please. You're the hunter, the gatherer-the survivalist guru. I'm just dead weight in a crusty sweater." He shakes his head, nudging my temple with his chin. "You're more adaptable than you think. If I'd have guessed before we got here, I'd have put money on you crying for three days straight and refusing to eat anything that didn't come off a Michelin-starred menu." I scoff. "Well, joke's on you. I lasted a solid hour before my first menty b." His soft laugh makes me smile. God, I love his laugh. For a while, we just exist-him stroking my hair, me melting into him, the fire crackling beside us like we're the last two people on earth. And maybe we are, in a way. Though, if it weren't for him, I'm certain I wouldn't be alive. Henry is the whole reason we're both surviving this situation. He's my rock. My voice of reason. And maybe that's why letting him play with my hair feels so good, like I'm finally able to give him just a tiny fraction of the comfort he's given me. "What do you think Beau is doing right now?" I ask quietly, my mind wandering to what our family and friends must be going through as time with us missing ticks away. "Probably handling business, like always. That's part of what I've always loved about Beau being a stick-in-the-mud," Henry says with a laugh that makes his chest shake under my ear. "He's reliable. Mav and Ronnie? While a good fucking time, they'd probably be out in the ocean on Jet Skis, looking for us in the most inefficient way possible. But Beau? He's probably got charts, coordinates, a fucking spreadsheet mapping out all possible crash locations." "My dad is really good under pressure, too. Between him and Beau, they probably have a whole search party organized, the Coast Guard, and all of Miami-Dade County on high alert." "Definitely. I'm sure it's only a matter of time," Henry extrapolates. It's hard to know if he really believes it, but either way, he's doing a good job of pretending. "Did Beau ever tell you all the details of how he and Juni got together?" "Some app they were working on at work, right?" "Yeah. Midnight. But, like, she was messaging him anonymously and he had no idea it was her, but he was still falling so hard for her that he was sending her all this dirty stuff." "Beau?" Henry asks incredulously. "Sending dick pics?" I giggle and pretend to gag. "I don't know about actual cock-a-doodle-doos, but they were definitely saying some scandalous stuff. I made June tell me, of course, and let me tell you, I didn't know she had it in her." "And look at them now. One kid here and another on the way. Married. Happy. Settled." I nod against his chest, the material of his shirt feeling softer and softer every night from being in the sun all day. He doesn't smell bad-not sure that I'd notice if he did over the stench of myself-but we've been sharing my deodorant for the time being to stave off the BO a little. "You want that stuff one day?" I ask. "To be married with kids?" Henry clarifies. "Yeah." "I guess. It sounds nice. Though, I'm not sure I'm ready for it now. I don't know. Would have to happen with the right woman, I guess. You?" I snort. "I haven't even slept with anyone, Henry." "Yeah. Right." A soft chuckle leaves his lungs. "I can't lie that was almost as shocking as if someone had told me we were going to be stranded on an island together." A small giggle escapes my lips. I'm well aware there are a lot of people in my life who would be shocked to find out that I'm a virgin. Hell, the reality still kind of shocks me when I give myself time to think about it. We fall into silence, the kind that lingers, stretching between us like something tangible. My fingers trace absent-minded circles over his chest, and I feel the deep, even rise and fall of his breathing. When I tilt my head, Henry's already looking at me. His gaze is steady, unreadable but intent, and for a moment, I forget about the island, the search parties, the hunger gnawing at my stomach. There's only this. This quiet space between us, where everything-every unsaid word, every lingering touch-feels magnified. Neither of us speaks. Neither of us moves. But I feel the shift, the subtle draw, like gravity pulling us closer. My breath catches. The warmth of his skin radiates against mine, and I don't know who leans in first, but suddenly, he's impossibly close. So close I can count the sun-kissed freckles on his nose and feel the heat of his breath against my lips. Just a little closer- A rustling sound from deep in the forest shatters the moment. I jolt, eyes widening as I whip my head toward the trees. "What was that?" Henry doesn't seem the least bit rattled, though his muscles tense briefly beneath me. He listens for a second, then shrugs. "Probably a hutia." I blink at him. "A hu-whata?" "A hutia. They're nocturnal rodents-think big guinea pigs. They live on a bunch of Caribbean islands." I stare at him, my entire body still on edge. "You're telling me there are giant island rats lurking in the woods right now?" Henry chuckles and shakes his head. "Not rats. More like oversized squirrels. They're harmless." "Harmless," I echo, unconvinced. "Big island rats doesn't feel fucking harmless to me, Henry." "They eat leaves. Not people." He smirks, tucking a stray piece of my hair behind my ear. "I promise, they're more afraid of you than you are of them." "That's debatable," I mutter, still eyeing the darkened tree line. He chuckles, his hand sliding into my hair like usual, fingers threading through the strands in lazy strokes. "You'll survive. I promise. And if one of those big island rats tries to ambush us, I've got your back." I sigh, still a little wary but too tired to argue. Henry exhales and shifts slightly. "Come on, let's go to bed." I nod, slowly moving my limbs from their slumber enough to pull my body off his. I move to sitting but don't get much farther before Henry scoops me up in his strong arms and carries me. If I weren't so tired, I'd fight it. Or maybe I wouldn't. I don't know. The longer I'm here, the less I'm starting to understand. Henry tucks us both into the tent and lies down in the center, pulling me into what's become our position. I rest my arm across his abs and my leg across his legs, tangling at the ankles. He plays with my hair with the hand behind my back, and I nuzzle into his chest until it feels like a nice pillow. I'm undoubtedly getting the better end of the deal-all he gets is the hard ground. And the familiarity of it all should be comforting, but my mind keeps replaying the moment that almost was. I shouldn't still be thinking about the way he looked at me. About the heat in his gaze. About how we've kissed before, yet this-this almost-kiss-felt entirely different. I nuzzle into his chest, trying to focus on the steady rhythm of his breathing instead of the chaotic beat of my own heart. "Hush now, little bird with special wings," Henry starts to sing, the mesmerizing lull of his voice putting me directly into my comfort zone just like it has for the last three nights. "Rest your head and your mind, for now it's time. Close your eyes, and hush now, little bird with special wings." I let him get through another verse, sleep tugging at my every molecule, the soft pull of his fingers in my hair, and when he's about to start over, I ask the question I've been carrying since he sang this the first night. "What is this song, Henry?" My voice feels harsh despite the softness of my whisper because of how silent it is around us, and his fingers pause in my hair for just the hint of a moment before continuing again. "My mother used to sing it to put me to sleep when I was little." I nod against his chest and then venture another question-one I know I probably don't have the right to ask, but one I've wondered about for a very long time. "What happened to her?" "She left," he says simply. "My dad said she had a history of mental health problems, and something broke in her to where she couldn't handle being a mom anymore." My heart beats fast with heartache and a laundry list of follow-up questions, but I don't ask any of them. I don't say anything. Between my swirling emotions, Henry's singing, and the heat of our tangled bodies, this tent feels full enough. So I just hold on to him tighter, like somehow, I can make up for all the years he went without. "Hush now, little bird with special wings," Henry sings again, and I cuddle a little tighter, close my eyes, and will myself to sleep like I'm supposed to. But I do dream. Of a mother I can't identify with at all. Of a mother who would leave someone like him behind even though Henry Callahan is not the person you leave. He's the kind you stay for. He's the kind you stay for forever.