Page 68 of My Undead Love Life

The sound tore right through me.

I’d heard people cry since the world ended. I’d heard people beg, scream, rage, and laugh when their minds broke. There was something about Spencer crying like that that made me feel like my ribs had been pried open.

Guilt twisted in my chest right after. I was such an asshole for falling for her when she was this vulnerable. It wasn’t right. Not when she was still drowning in grief. Keith had only been gone a month and a half, and she still woke up screaming his name.

And I still wanted to hold her.

I still wanted to press a kiss to her hair and tell her she didn’t have to be alone, which was selfish as hell.

“Don’t do that to yourself, flare.” Mad’s thumb traced slow, soothing lines along her jaw, and his golden eyes stayed locked on hers.

Spencer sniffled, blinking up at him as her breathing slowly steadied. “Flare?”

Mad gave her a small smile. “You’re the brightest light I’ve seen since the world ended.”

Her breath caught.

Oxi and I exchanged a look over her shoulder.

Damn.

That was ridiculously cute.

It was also extremely inconvenient because Mad was already annoyingly handsome, useful in emergencies, emotionally intense, and now he was pulling out lines like that while holding her face like she was his.

I had a shovel, unresolved family trauma, and used humor as a coping mechanism.

He won between us, and I knew it.

Spencer let out a sniffling laugh. “Thanks, Mad,” she said, wiping her eyes with the blanket. “That’s sweet.”

“It’s true.”

She bit down on her bottom lip as they held each other’s gaze.

“To be honest,” she said softly, glancing between the three of us, “I’m really thankful I’m with you guys. You’ve made me feel safe. Even though there’s a massive horde of zombies out there in the middle of a blizzard.”

I wanted what she said to be true. I wanted to be that for her. Not because it meant she’d ever look at me the way she’d just looked at Mad, but because I just wanted her to have a safe space.

“Anything for you, snowfire,” Oxi whispered.

My eyebrow lifted.

Snowfire?

Mad had flare.

Oxi had snowfire.

Was I the only one who hadn’t given her a nickname yet? That was clearly a personal failure.

Spencer’s lashes were still wet, and her hand had curled into the blanket so tightly her knuckles had gone pale. Mad’s thumb was still resting near her cheek, and Oxi’s fingers were still moving in slow circles against her back.

If the three of us had made her feel safe, though, that was enough.

I wanted to be her safe place.

Especially if I couldn’t act on my feelings yet. And judging by the looks Oxi and Mad had been giving her lately, I wasn’t the only one trying to hold back.