He cuts the track, and I pinch my fingers over the bridge of my nose. “I’m not going to ask about the milk, seeing as you said you’re dead and you’re not eating or drinking, but what the hell are you doing on my laptop and…” I pause, looking him over, and finally notice what he’s wearing. “Is that my sweater?” My Metallica sweater is too short in the arms for him, and I know the shoulders will never be the same again. And now I’m extra annoyed because I’m thinking about how hot Adam’s shoulders are. And how broad. And defined…
Fuck!
Adam shrugs. “It’s cold in here. I used your laptop because I didn’t have the Wi-Fi password. I needed to research.”
I breathe out slowly. “Fine. You know what? Fine. I have to work today. I don’t have time for this.”
“But you’re still gonna help, right?” Adam sets aside the laptop and jumps up from my sofa. “Don’t be mad. I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”
I ignore the way he follows me into the kitchen like a lost puppy. “Yeah. I’m going to help because I’ve just remembered how annoying it is to live with you, and I don’t plan on doing it for any longer than I have to.”
“Annoying?”
I reach behind Adam to open a cupboard, forcing him to jump out of the way. He almost knocks the carton of spoiled milk off the counter, catching it and setting it back again with an apologetic smile. “You won’t even notice I’m here.”
I roll my eyes. “I highly doubt that.”
I can’t even start my day with my normal coffee. Grumbling, I put some bread in the toaster and get the peanut butter from the cupboard. “What were you researching?”
“Well I was thinking about it logically.” He leans nonchalantly on the counter right where the drawer with the cutlery is, and I yank it out, bumping it into his hip none too gently. I draw the knife out of the drawer slowly, glaring at him.
“Ow! I was just thinking that since you confirmed that I’m a zombie—”
I hold up a finger. “I never confirmed anything.”
“—that I’m most likely a zombie, then I should look into, well, zombies. This is clearly some kind of curse. So I just need to work out how to lift it.” He beams at me.
“Yeah, right,” I scoff. “Come on, that's the least logical conclusion. I’m sure there’s some medical reason for whatever symptoms you’re experiencing.”
“Like what?”
I pause, knife hovering over my toast. “Well, you haven’t actually told me all your symptoms yet. Let’s start there.” I jerk my head at the little desk by the window. “There’s a pen and paper there. Write them all down and I’ll look into it.”
Adam obediently goes to the desk and starts writing his list, and I start forming a plan. Annie has seen a lot of patients in her time. I’ll start by asking her if she’s ever seen anything like this. Taking a bite of toast, I walk over to look at what he’s written so far: can’t sleep, not hungry, not thirsty, no pulse, no heartbeat.
“Low temperature.”
He looks up. “Huh?”
“Your skin feels cold.” I put the back of my hand against his forehead, and sure enough, it feels cool.
Adam adds it to his list. I glance over it and have to admit, the list doesn’t look good. Not that it’s my problem. He stopped being my problem when he told me he was breaking up with meto ‘see what’s out there’. I turn away with a huff. “Add being an insufferable prick. Oh, no, wait. You were like that before your accident.”
“There’s no need to be mean, Jen.” He sounds genuinely hurt.
I shrug. “Just being honest.” I walk to the sofa and finish my toast, still thinking. “What are you going to do while I’m at work?”
He sighs. “Do you have to go today? I was kinda hoping you might take the day off.”
“I can’t just take the day off, Adam. You know that.”
“You always were a stickler for the rules. OK, well, I guess I’ll just hang out here, then. Have you got any streaming services?”
“No. Feel free to add yours, though.” I know he doesn’t have a subscription. It was always up to me to organize that stuff.
I dress for work, pack a bag with my lunch, and pause on my way out the door. “Keep a journal while I’m gone.”
“A what?”
