Page 10 of Zombie

Morning, I’m feeling okay. Still really sore. But sure, if you want you can come to my place this afternoon. How does 3 pm sound?

The bubbles on my phone appeared and then disappeared before reappearing again. Shit, should I have offered to come to his office instead of inviting him over? Had my offer been too intimate? My phone chimed.

DANTE:

Send me your address and I’ll be there.

An unexpected wave of happiness hit me as I sent him the address to my condo before going to wash up.

After my bath, Evan FaceTimed me from his hospital bed. He looked awful, connected to several machines. The look of devastation on his face at my bruises nearly broke me. After reassuring him that I was okay and keeping him company for a while, I hung up to let him rest.

I couldn’t admit to him that I was in physical and emotional pain. I refused to tell him that I kept on having nightmares about the abduction every time I closed my eyes. I wanted to just be able to get over this, but I couldn’t shake it. I’d always had the ability to get over things quickly. This felt like it should be no different. But then again, I had never been kidnapped and tortured before.

I slowly cleaned up my condo in preparation for my visitor. When I looked around my living room, I cringed at all my corgi decor. My small obsession with corgis was not something I was sure I wanted him to see. All my life I had wanted one but never had an opportunity to have one, hence the absurd amount of wiggle-butt décor around my condo.

Well, this was as good as it was going to get. Dante wasn’t coming over to judge my home; he was coming over to check if I was okay. Nothing more.

At ten to three, I heard the buzzer for the building entrance. The pain in my ribs as I got up from the couch made me groan but I made it over to press the button to let Dante in, waiting a minute before opening my front door.

Dante walked down the hall in charcoal slacks and a white button-up shirt, the top two buttons undone. His blond hair was disheveled as if he had been running his hands through it. A stethoscope hung around his neck. I felt my panties dampen just looking at him; he was drop-dead gorgeous.

The corner of his mouth tipped up when he saw me, making my stomach flip.

“Hey,” I said breathlessly.

Dante walked up to the door and seemed to give me a once-over. I looked down to realize I was still in my corgi-printed pajamas.

Oh great. Just great, I thought.

He gave me a nod of greeting before I opened the door wider and stepped to the side. With one giant step, he walked over the threshold and took in the living space.

“Sorry, I know it’s a mess,” I said, picking at my cuticles. Why was I so nervous? It wasn’t like this was the first attractive male to ever come into my home.

Dante turned to look at me with an amused smirk. “It’s fine.”

I sat on the couch and Dante squatted in front of me, his face returning to a stern expression. “How are you feeling?”

Don’t look at his crotch, don’t look at his crotch.

Despite my efforts, I looked down at his pants. The fabric was stretched tight, and I couldn’t mistake the bulge between his legs.

Realization dawned on me, and I remembered he had asked me a question. I met his eyes, which were sparkling with amusement. “I’m still in a lot of pain.”

Concern spread across his handsome face. “Have you been taking the pills that I gave you?”

“I took some of them, but I didn’t keep taking them because they make me feel funny,” I interjected.

Dante frowned. “I know they can cause some disorientation, but they will help your body relax so you can heal.”

I looked down at my hands resting on my lap, suddenly feeling more self-conscious about my pajamas. I felt the coolness of Dante’s pointer finger under my chin, making me look up at him.

“What else is on your mind?” he asked.

I couldn’t tell him how I was truly feeling. I couldn’t tell him that I didn’t want to take the medicine because it would make me sleep, and I knew if I slept, I’d have nightmares.

“Nothing, I just want to feel better,” I said quietly.

His finger still rested under my chin and he raised an eyebrow as if he could detect my bullshit. He removed his hand and I instantly felt the loss of his touch. What was it with this man? Sure, I had my share of fun with the opposite sex, but no one had the effect that Dante seemed to have over me. He was like a book that I wanted to curl up with and take comfort in.