Her arms loosened from around my waist as she searched my features. My answer must have satisfied her because her troubled look cleared a bit. “You’re right. I think I'm too used to being on my own and sticking to my routine. Having a system would be a good idea. I like rules and order.”
“Yeah, I already figured that part out." I smiled. "Now we've got that settled... can I put my shirt back on?”
She stepped away from me as if just realising what she'd done. Her gaze skimmed my chest and my abs, and her mouth opened in surprise. “Wow. I just… ripped that right off you, didn't I? I’m so sorry.” Her attention lifted to my face then dropped again as if she couldn’t resist taking another look. I’d never minded a little objectification, and watching her check me out had a zing of pleasure shooting through me.
More relaxed than I’d been in a long time, I grabbed my discarded shirt from the floor and pulled it over my head. After I tugged it into place, I caught her glancing away again as if she’d been sneaking another look while my face was covered. The initial zing grew into a heavy throb of arousal, sitting low in my gut, pleasurable and warm. Once upon a time, I would have acted on it to see where it went, but we had more important things to focus on, and I shouldn’t be entertaining thoughts like this while our safety was in question.
I collected both our knives from the floor and handed hers over. When our fingers touched, the shock that ran up my arm had me wanting to pull her close again. Instead, I stepped away and grabbed my backpack.
At Bridgehill, life would be different.
For now, I needed to keep my eyes on the prize.
Nine
Liv
None of the garages at the rear of the houses had vehicles in them, and by the time we were done searching, it was three-thirty in the afternoon—too late to be heading off on the first leg of our journey even if wehadbeen lucky enough to find a car. Both of us were eager to stay on the move, but we agreed it wouldn't be safe while we were tired and lacking reliable transport, so… here we were spending one more night in the city.
Cruz and I sat on a beige couch in the house opposite where we originally pulled up hours ago. We’d broken in and had been using it as a base to stock all the items we found throughout the day. In the morning, the plan was to throw everything in the back of the car and see how far we could get on flat tyres and fuel dregs.
I glanced around the room, taking in the modern furnishings, the beachy knickknacks, and the collection of white-framed, family pictures on the wall. Two blonde parents and their equally blonde daughters had once lived here. They were smiling and wearing matching neutral-toned outfits in a country barn setting. Back in the day, they might have been one of those perfectly presented Instagram families.
Now... I wondered what had happened to them. The house was clean and tidy. They’d taken most of their clothes. It looked like they’d made a calm exit rather than bailing in a frenzy like so many others had done. I liked to picture them moving to a relative’s place somewhere rural, where they were as safe as anyone could be in the new world we’d inherited. Maybe they were thriving there and the girls were happy and healthy.
My gaze shifted to the window, and I let out an audible breath. “It feels peaceful here.”
We’d left the white shutters tilted at an angle that gave us a clear view of the street and stopped others from seeing inside. Neither of us had spotted any human activity the entire time we'd been in this area though, and only the occasional group of infected had stumbled past.
Cruz sat beside me on the three-seater couch, his legs spread wide, his fingers laced across his abdomen. The lean, chiselled abdomen I’d had the pleasure of ogling right after I freaked out in the house we were searching. I couldn’t believe I’d torn his shirt off him like we were in the middle of a heated make-out session—or that when my face pressed into his bare chest and his arms went around me, I’d found a place of safety and security I never wanted to leave.
“Is it because everything’s clean and organised?” he asked, rolling his head in my direction.
I slanted him a look, enjoying the amusement in his eyes. “Are you... suggesting I’m a neat freak? Is that what you’re doing?”
“If it walks like a duck...”
I scoffed and grabbed a patterned cushion from beside me, pitching it at him. He caught it and smiled.
Our gazes connected for a beat, just long enough for the warmth to build between us again, then we both looked away and sat in silence. I listened to the sparrows cheep outside the window, a sound I'd missed while living in an apartment. The last leaves of autumn were clinging to the branches they landed on, and the late afternoon sun provided a glowing backdrop.
I thought about how much Haruto would have loved it here. He could have sat with a blanket on his knee, watching movement and life outside the window instead of the never-changing skyline vista he'd had for the last two years of his life. I longed for this kind of peace, where I could kick off my boots and put my feet up, hang out with my favourite people and talk about nothing and everything—but there was no time for relaxation until we reached our destination. Our circumstances could change at any moment.
So, I sat in this cosy, comfortable room with Cruz, kept my boots on, my mind alert, and I listened for sounds that were out of the ordinary.
“I’m staying on the couch tonight,” he said. “So, if you want to take one of the beds and get some real sleep, I’ll keep an eye on things out here.”
“I’ve been getting proper rest most nights since this whole thing started. I think you’re the one who needs to sleep in a bed.”
“Should we flip a coin?” His gaze swung in my direction again, his dark eyes smiling at me. I already knew from the expression on his face that he had no intention of taking the bed. His fingers were still interlaced, his thumbs tapping a silent beat against his stomach. Relaxed masculinity oozed from him, and his body language seemed to invite me in—tempting, taunting—and then I'd remind myself that we’d only known of each other’s existence for a week, and I should probably calm down.
Flustered at the warmth spreading through me, I spoke without thinking. “Maybe we should just sleep together.”
The words didn’t register until they’d left my mouth, and when it hit me what I’d suggested—outloudto the appealing man beside me—the flustered feeling increased tenfold. His low laugh filled the silence, and I squeezed my eyes shut, mentally kicking myself for the slip-up. “Please wipe that sentence from your memory.”
“I can’t,” he said, his voice warm and teasing. “It’s in there forever now.”
My eyes opened again, and I let out an awkward laugh. “I didn’t mean it like that. I was just suggesting that you and me... that we could stay out here tonight and keep each other company.”
