"A heartbeat later, the flashlight clicked off. Phoebe blinked in the darkness. "Zane?" "We're gonna have to do this by feel. Otherwise we'll be putting on a show." She thought about how flashlights in the tents created detailed shadows and blushed at the thought of entertaining the others. Before she could figure out some kind of response, she both felt and heard movement. Instinctively, she pulled the sleeping bag up over her chest. "What are you doing?" she asked. "Taking off my jacket. It's soaked." "Oh." There was a bit more rustling, then a warm hand settled on her shoulder. "You okay with this?" he asked. "Yes," she whispered, nearly meaning it. Sure, she wanted to be with him in the most intimate way possible, but wanting it and talking about it were two different things. He chuckled. "Second thoughts?" "Not exactly." "Then what, exactly?" But she never got to say. Apparently he'd been moving closer as they spoke, and before she could form a word, his mouth settled on hers. The man had great aim, she thought as firm, tender lips claimed her own. Her body melted in anticipation, which made it difficult to stay upright. Rather than puddle into the sleeping bag, she simply leaned against him."