"ARE you cold?"
"No," I lie as I scoot closer to him, the scratchy sheets shuffling over me.
"Bullshit. I can feel you shaking," Zombie says. "Why don't you put your clothes back on? I want you to be comfortable."
I shake my head, pressing a soft kiss to his collarbone. "I like the way this feels." My bare skin slides against his as I press myself to his side.
His next breath is shaky. I think I've rendered him speechless because he doesn't say anything for a while, just lets his cautious fingertips trail up and down my hip.
"I didn't know it would feel like that," he finally says. "Would feel so..."
"Good?" I ask teasingly. "Yeah, sex tends to feel that way."
He rolls his eyes. "I know that... I just meant... I don't know. It's different this time. It's different with you."
My hand slides up and down his chest. "Why do you think that is?"
Zombie shrugs against the mattress. "I don't know. I'm not complaining."
"I didn't think you were. You seemed to really enjoy yourself."
"Oh my God." He's laughing lightly, thin cheeks turning pink and gaze avoiding mine shyly. "Please shut up."
I grin. "Maybe you should make me..." I whisper as I move to straddle him, the covers falling to sit around my waist. My palms come to rest on his chest to keep me steady.
Zombie's eyes struggle to stay on my face. I feel his warm hands slowly drift up the backs of my thighs to rest on my ass, pressing me a little closer to him. "Maybe I should," he murmurs back, a smile playing at his lips.
My hair tickles my neck when I lean down, kissing him softly. He inhales sharply, one hand coming to hold the back of my head. The other now grips my hip so tight I think it might bruise. I moan softly, and suddenly he's flipping me over, climbing on top of me. His mouth moves aggressively at my throat, licking and sucking.
I nearly get lost in the sensation, but then something touches my hip.
It feels warm and wet, and it drips down the curve of my body.
In the back of my mind, I know that there's a couple of different things this could be, so I let it go at first. Then more droplets hit me.
I bite my lower lip, trying to keep my voice level. He happens to be really good at this. "Zombie?" I call softly, struggling to keep my eyes open.
He grunts, lips trailing to my collarbone.
My voice comes out slightly shaky. "Hey..."
His mouth finds the top of my breast and, involuntarily, I arch into him. "Mm..." My every word is breathy. His large hands are everywhere and it fogs my brain. "You're... you're bleeding."
That certainly gets his attention. He pulls away, eyes blown wide and cheeks flushed. "What?"
I take a deep breath, finally able to speak and think clearly. "You're bleeding. I think you ripped your stitches or something." My fingers cautiously descend on the tender flesh at his hip, and he hisses at the contact. When my hand comes away red, I know that I'm right. "See?"
He stares at the evidence blankly. "Okay..." he eventually says. "Can we worry about that later?"
"No, you idiot," I laugh.
"...but I'm kind of busy right now."
I shake my head, smiling. "Roll over. Let me get you a fresh bandage."
Begrudgingly, he does as I say. I carefully climb over him, shivering slightly when I stand naked in the cold room. I cross my arms over my chest and squint in the dark.
We had ditched the Humvee somewhere around Huber Heights and then hiked to a hotel that Cassie – the blond girl, who happens to be Nugget's long-lost sister – suggested. She told us the whole story: how 'Sam,' as she calls Nugget, was taken from the encampment; how the adults had been murdered; how she had miraculously escaped; how she had been severely injured; how Evan, an 'Other,' as she calls the aliens, pulled his head out of his ass and helped her because it was the right thing to do. He was the one who made the base blow up. They planned on the hotel being their rendezvous point.
The benefit of the hotel is that we all get our own rooms. Zombie and I took advantage of that.
...which leads to where I am now, trying to see in the darkness. As soldiers, we were required to carry a small first aid kit. It's nothing compared to Dumbo's bag of medical supplies, but it is enough to create a make-shift bandage in an emergency.
Something touches my thigh and I jump, causing Zombie to laugh. He continues to let his knuckle graze my skin.
"You're so beautiful, Mary Beth," he says it breathlessly.
I laugh. "You're just saying that because I'm naked."
"No, I'm saying it because you're beautiful."
"Do you have a fever?" I ask, placing my icy hand against his cool forehead. "Like, did the stitches get infected?"
"No," he says. "I feel fine."
"Obviously not."
He gives me a look. "Why? Because I said that you're beautiful, or because I called you by your real name?"
"Both." I bite my lip and turn back to my search. "If you were in your right mind, you would never say those things."
"If I were in my right mind, I would say them all the time," he retorts. "It's what I'm always thinking. I just never had the balls to tell you because I thought that you would punch me. I figure you're beyond punching an injured guy, though."
"Don't test me," I tease. "I still might punch you."
"Worth it."
I find my pants and fish the first aid kit out of one of the giant pockets. I perch on the edge of the bed, pushing his thighs over so I have room. He scoffs good-naturedly and mutters beneath his breath about how I could have just asked for him to move, and I smile.
My fingers slowly peel back the covers, letting them rest at the bottom of his hips. In the minimal light, I can see the angry red surrounding the dark stitches.
"This is going to hurt like a bitch, so hold still."
"Thanks for the warning-" His voice cracks when I sharply press a wad of gauze onto the wound, trying to stop the bleeding. His body twitches as he fights the urge to get away from my touch.
"Stop squirming!" I hiss.
"I'm trying," he spits through gritted teeth.
"Try harder," I order. "Otherwise I'm going to get Dumbo, and you can explain to him why you're naked."
His pale face flushes. "Don't." His eyes are steely. I can hear the double-meaning in his words. Don't get Dumbo. Don't leave me.
I give him a small, sarcastic smile. "Sure thing, Sarge." I can feel the warmth of his blood through the gauze on my fingertips.
He smiles back. "Mary Beth?" He calls softly.
"Why do you have to call me that?"
"Because I'm the only one who knows it and that makes me feel good," he replies. I sigh and he continues with what he was going to ask. "Can I hold your hand?"
Another sigh, but this one is purposely exaggerated. "I guess." I reach out and he takes it immediately, lacing his fingers with mine. He squeezes my hand whenever I dig my palm into his side.
Eventually, I get the bleeding to stop. "Okay, can you sit up? I'm going to leave some gauze on here and I need to wrap-"
"I don't want it to be bandaged," he complains. "It makes it itch."
"...it's supposed to itch. That means that it's healing."
Zombie just stares at me, not budging.
"Sit up," I hiss.
"No," he says simply. "I don't have to listen to you. Ranking before age." He's grinning. He knows that he's being annoying, and he knows that I'm going to let him get his way.
...just this once.
"Whatever." I toss the damp gauze into the wastebasket on the other side of the bedside table. "I'm going to get dressed and head to my room. Goodnight." I peck his lips quickly and stand.
"Hey, no. Stay with me."
I knew he would say that.
"You're so clingy," I tease. I get back into the bed, finding myself tucked into his side once again. This time his arms wind around me, keeping me close, making me feel safe.
He kisses my forehead gently; I'm shocked by the sweetness of the gesture. "I just want to know what it's like to hold you."
"Congrats, now you do, you sap."
He laughs; I can feel his chest bounce. "If you think I'm a sap now, you should have seen me before the waves. Oh my gosh, Nicholas Sparks was my dude. He never failed to make me bawl my eyes out."
Now I laugh. "Not hard to picture."
It gets quiet for a minute. I listen to Zombie's breathing, finding comfort in how even it is.
"Mary Beth?"
"What now, Ben?"
The glint of his teeth in the dark. "Can I tell you something? Since we've established that I'm a sap?"
"Sure, as long as you don't tell me I'm beautiful again."
"...but you are beautiful..."
I don't say anything.
"I mean it. Even if you don't believe it."
I sigh. He gets the message.
"Okay. Moving on..." He shifts slightly. Takes a deep breath. "I want to tell you that I love you. I get if you don't want to say it back or whatever. I just... after I left, I was kicking myself in the ass for not saying it before, and-"
I cut off his rant. "Hey." He stops. My heart is beating too hard. "Um..." My breathing is weird. "I get it." Slowly, like I'm unsure that I'm speaking English. "I love you too." Then I'm rushing. "Please don't make a big deal out of it. Otherwise I will punch you. All joking aside. Uppercut. Injured or not. I don't care."
Zombie doesn't say anything for the longest thirty seconds of my life. Then "...I'm more surprised that you said 'please' than anything else. I don't think you've ever said 'please' before in all the time that I've known you."
I roll my eyes. "Shut up, Ben."
---
Thank you so much to everyone who read this book to the end. Gasoline is the first story that I have ever finished, so it has a very special place in my heart and I will always be proud of it. I hope you enjoyed Croak's journey and experiencing her growth.
Love from, RaRa.