After a pause, I admit, “Actually, that’s valid.”
He grunts.
“You had to kill someone again,” I say. “Are you okay with that?”
“They came here looking to cause harm. It won’t cost me any sleep. Does that bother you?”
“No. I don’t think so. You did what you had to.”
“And I’d do it again. No one hurts you or Sophie. I won’t allow it.”
Time for a change of topic. “What do you miss from the old world today?”
“That’s easy.” His smile is there and gone. “Hot showers.”
I happy sigh at the memory of same. “I could do with a really good facial. Want to have a spa night with me sometime?”
“Sure.”
“You any good at painting nails?”
“Doubt it,” he says. “But I am willing to try. What are you grateful for?”
“We’re still all together and in one piece. That seems sort of huge given everything.”
“Yeah.”
I step into him and slide my hands beneath his tee. My hands wind around his waist and across his back. And I hold on good and tight just because I can. Today involved having the shit scared out of me. I deserve a moment or more of goodness with him.
“We’re hugging?” he asks with interest.
“Yes.”
And his arms come around me. He doesn’t even attempt to grope my ass or anything. Just respects what we’re doing. Never underestimate the curative effects of a forehead kiss. “This is nice. I like this.”
“Me too.”
One of my hands drifts over the tangle of scars on his back. I don’t like that he was hurt. His skin is cool to the touch. He’s still warming up after the cold water from the creek. And he smells of the soap and whatever he washed his hair with. This is a top-tier experience, being this close to him, hearing his heart beat strong and sure inside his chest. Would do it again.
Mind you, we’re doing this in the wrong order. Hugging should probably come before kissing. But nothing could make this more special.
Something that is proven wrong when Sophie plows into us, joining in the hug. The girl could have had a serious career ahead of her as a linebacker. She wriggles in between us with a smile.
Nash and Bowie are set up across the street from us. It’s a new wooden two-bedroom house with big windows to let in the light. Of course, the curtains are drawn for now. We haven’t even dared use the generator we picked up at the hardware warehouse, due to fear of the noise it would make. Having the power to run a fridge or heat some water for a hot shower would be amazing. But it’s just not worth the risk.
We gather in the living room of their new home. Reema, Leon, Dean, and I. Natalia is watching the girls again. She’s fast become a favorite. Charlie is catching up on sleep while Avan and Naomi are on watch. Things are changing so fast. Starting out the day as enemies with Nash and now working together to provide a safe home for everyone makes for a steep learning curve. Dean’s protective instincts have gone into overdrive. And I know this because he’s hovering, standing behind me, glowering if Nash so much as looks my way. Which is highly unnecessary.
But big feelings continue to be a challenge for both of us, it seems. Emotional growth during the apocalypse is a thorny thing.
Nash has the radio on his lap and is holding the microphone. He and his friends agreed to talk at a certain time of night. They’re apparently preppers who had been planning for the end of the world. People who cut off physical contact with the outside when news of the virus started to spread.
“George?” he asks into the microphone. “Pedro?”
“Was wondering when you’d turn up again,” says someone back. “You owe me twenty, old man.”
Nash’s laughter is low and rough. “You bet against me, George?”
“It’d been almost a week. How was I to know you weren’t lying dead in a ditch?” asks someone in a crotchety tone.
