Chapter 12
When the slapjacks were gone, Andy held Sam’s head up off the floor so he could drink some of the tepid coffee. After a few sips, though, he turned his face away from the offered cup. “Enough,” he sighed.
“Sam,” Andy admonished, “you need to eat.”
“I ate,” Sam replied. “I’m full. Don’t want anymore.”
Andy curved a hand along his cheek and frowned at the heat that burned through his lover’s skin. For a moment he considered forcing him to finish the coffee—he needed his strength if he were to get better. But when Sam’s eyes slipped shut, Andy didn’t have the heart to keep him awake any longer. He knew his lover was exhausted, and needed his sleep as much as he needed to eat.
The fire had burned down low while they ate, and now it guttered with each scant breeze, at times
