Then, his socked foot shifts under the blanket, seeking her out even in sleep until he makes contact with her leg. She holds still, checking his face for any reaction but finding none.
Curious, she moves her leg away, wondering if it’s a fluke. Doesn’t take long for him to find her again, nestling his foot atop her own. She’s practically playing footsie with him. It would befunny if she didn’t like the idea of him wanting to be close to her as much as she does.
He’s quiet and relaxed so long as they’re touching, so she doesn’t move an inch until her thirst gets the better of her and she turns away to grab a drink. The instant she’s gone, he clumsily shifts his whole body in her direction, trying to find that contact again.
Kara’s never known him to be this way. Now she wonders if he always has been and she was simply never in a situation to find out. How often has he wished for a soft touch and never gotten it when she could have been right there, ready and willing?
She won’t deny him this time. Turns on her side to face him and gently nudges his leg with her own, settling against him from knee to toe. It’s innocent, chaste, and always very far away from any danger zones. She’s been starved for contact, too. Not from just anyone, but fromhim.When he snorts himself awake with a few drowsy blinks, an uncertain expression passing over him quickly, she worries she’s gone too far.
“It’s okay,” she says softly, trying to stave off any awkwardness for them both before it festers. “It’s cold, right?”
“Yeah,” he agrees, not entirely convinced.
“You’re just lending me some body heat.”
She puts an extra tease in her words because that’s familiar between them. He knows how to react to it, and it’s a good cover for the truth.
As if on cue, he turns fondly irritated. “Well, come on then, if you’re cold. Promise I’ve got no more vomit in me. I’m all tapped out.”
He’s clearly inviting her to snuggle up to him. His tone is oblivious to how badly she desires it, as if he hasn’t a clue he’s offering her a slice of her most guarded dreams.
If she says no, that’ll make it weird, so she dramatically tucks in against his side as he turns onto his back.
Friends can sleep in the same bed.
They can get close if it’s cold.
Best friends who have said I love you to each other and who seem to be doing a bang-up job of avoiding that those words meant anything deeper, can cuddle. It’s completely acceptable.
Nothing strange about it. Nothing to see here.
“Shit, youarecold.” He rubs her arm briskly as if she’s caught in the middle of an Arctic winter.
She muffles a laugh, forgetting for a brief moment that they aren’t a couple and there are lines they can’t cross. She’s in bed with the man who has always felt like her soulmate, and her instinct is to curl into him and nuzzle her face against his chest, tossing a lazy leg over his thigh in a move she’s never willingly done in her life that feels like second nature.
It’s enough to break the spell that allowed her to be here in the first place.
He freezes at the newly intimate contact, and she scrambles to the other side of the bed so quickly she nearly rolls right off the edge in her haste. The only thing that keeps her from cracking her skull open on the side table is Wade catching her by the arm and dragging her up again.
“Easy. Easy,” he says, gently. “Are you okay? Hit anything? Are you hurt?”
“Fine. Clumsy, that’s all. We should have breakfast and then see about hitting the road again. All this laying around isn’t checking off items on our list.”
Kara braces for him to object or draw attention to her mistake. Mercifully, he lets it go, nodding in agreement and following her abrupt lead to gather food from their packs. She’s already getting too comfortable out here alone with him. Thisis a stark reminder that she needs to respect the boundaries they’ve set.
Chapter 24
The bike is gone.
They’re staring at an empty space where it used to be and that can only mean they’ve got unwanted company. Was just a matter of time before they ran into other people. It’s no safer now than it ever was, and they’ve got their weapons drawn and ready the moment it’s clear they could need them.
Wade and Kara work well as a silent team, following the wheel tracks off the path and into dense woods.
People and rotters have been sparse the last few years, she’s told him. Most that started alive are dead by now. The ones who turned have long since rotted away, except for recent victims or nearly skeletal, shambling remains.
It’s the runners they need to watch for. Some mutant strain of the virus that’s kicked the dead into high gear and given them a far longer shelf life.
“They don’t degrade as quickly, or at all, really. No one knows why. The older, slow ones have all started crumbling by now, but the fast ones are different. You won’t see them alone anymore. They’ve all formed herds.”
