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“You can't sleep beside me,' I hissed. 'I'm not.' With the edge of his blanket in hand, he draped it, along with his arm, over me. The heavy weight of his appendage settled at my waist, stunning me for a few precious moments. 'What do you call this, then?' 'I'm sleeping with you.' My eyes opened wide. 'How is that any different?' 'There's a huge difference.' His warm breath coasted over my cheek, causing my pulse to dip and then rise. I stared at the darkness, every part of my body focused on the feel of his arm around me. 'You can't sleep with me, Hawke.' 'And I can't have you freezing or getting sick. It's too dangerous to light a fire, and unless you'd rather I got someone else to sleep with you, there really aren't many other options.' 'I don't want anyone else to sleep with me.' 'I already knew that,' he replied, his tone both teasing and smug. Heat blasted my cheeks. 'I don't want anyone to sleep with me.” — Jennifer L. Armentrout