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One caramel eye poked up from the crook of her elbow. "I'm fine."
Absent were her flirtatious, coy smiles, the ones she flashed at the other Alphas that probably fueled dozens of boners around the settlement. Strangely, it filled him with a warm sense of intimacy. They all saw her smiles, but how many had seen her tears?
"You don't look fine." He edged closer and crouched next to an upturned picnic basket, righting it and setting it off to the side. "Don't sound fine, either."
She lifted her head, revealing the precious freckles that dotted her golden, tan forehead down to her upturned snub nose. Swollen and pink-tinged around the nostrils from crying, but a perfectly pert little nose nonetheless, like someone modeled it right off a china doll and onto her youthful face.
Youthful. That was putting it mildly. She was practically a girl, and he was nearly a century and a half old. What kind of a degenerate pervert did that make him?
"I wasn't crying to get attention" — she wiped angrily at her cheek — "if that's what you're accusing me of."
Jake's chin jerked back. Not the response he'd anticipated. "Not accusing you of anything," he mumbled, rubbing at the back of his neck as he cast around his disjointed thoughts for something helpful to say. "Thought you might... need something."
Fuck, he was bad at this. Before TheEnd, back when his life made some amount of sense, he'd been the good-time-party guy, the hot, one-night-stand guy, not the steady, emotionally-supportive-boyfriend guy. He didn't have the first fucking clue about comforting a woman in distress. And it showed.
"Bein' as you're alone out here and whatnot," he added stupidly.
Zorah's head tipped back till it rested against the tree trunk, and she closed her eyes with an exhausted, ratty-sounding sigh. "I'm not a young pup with a scraped knee. I don't need to run to my mama for every problem."
Her tone registered as neither combative nor petulant. She spoke bluntly, as if stating a simple, informative fact.
"Don't think you're a child," he said, feeling like he was dancing around a bed of hot coals. He pried a pebble from the ground and rolled it between his thumb and forefinger. "But you did see a boy almost drown today."
"So did you. Doyouneed something?" Only her eyelids moved, peeling open like the slow raising of a curtain.
The look pierced into him, a gentle slip of the knife between his ribs, so fast and sharp he didn't feel it until it was too late. In that one look, he could've sworn she saw all the way down to his ugly, scarred soul because,fuck, he needed a lot of things. All of them and none of them starting and ending with her.
Jake tossed the rock and brushed the sand from his fingers. "Not especially."
Cautiously, still not knowing whatthe fuckhe was doing, Jake transitioned to his knees and scooted close. Close enough to detect the salty drying tears blended with her sweat and uniquely sweet Omega scent. His nostrils flared at the citrusy fragrance, seeking even more to fill his lungs.
She pushed back a lock of untidy hair, eyeing him suspiciously. "Even if I needed something, you have less than nothing to offer me. Isn't that what you said?"
He fumbled for more words. "You... you were crying."
She held his gaze, unwavering. "I'm upset."
"Right." God, he was an idiot. He looked around, as if he'd discover a manual for how to manage this situation.
Maybe once, he was good with people, but not now. The rules changed when the world did, and he didn't understand anymore.
But her distress splintered up his insides, shredding him apart with a frustrated need todosomething, to comfort, to protect. His eyes fell on the scattered foodstuffs: a bruised peach, a jar of water, a half-eaten sandwich. He flicked a finger at the items. "Is this food for you? Have you eaten today?"
Her lips contorted in a gentle sneer. "Not hungry."
"Okay, maybe you need to —"
"Why do people insist they know what I need better than I do?" In an instant, her disaffected misery transitioned to righteous indignation. A fireball lit in her eyes, her plump lips drawn tight and pale. "Do I look so stupid and helpless that I can't even feed myself?"
Jake shook his head in a series of quick, backpedaling jerks. "Course not."
"I don't need to eat," she said through clenched teeth.
"Okay... well..." Jake rubbed at his brow, failing with every floundering, inept attempt to provide a modicum of comfort. Not only had he failed to comfort her, but now she'd gone from sad in general to angry with him, which seemed worse. He retraced her words. What exactly had she said? Something about people insisting they knew what she needed better than she did. He inhaled a steadying breath. "I obviously don't know what to do here, so why don't you tell me?"
Eyes filled with amber-colored flame snapped to his. "I need to learn to swim." She leaned toward him, intent and unblinking. "And you're going to teach me."
Jake's mouth fell open. "Wh-What?"
