Afterglow: An Apocalypse Romance (5 page)

Nina didn’t know what to say, how to respond. She wasn’t good with other people’s upsets, never knew how to deal with them. So she reached out her hand and put it on his thigh, the denim of his jeans soft under her hand, his leg hard and muscular.

His eyes. They heated up, like a furnace had been turned higher. But he stayed completely still, just staring at Nina. Her heartbeat picked up and her nipples hardened, just from the way he was looking at her. It made no sense. Guys never had this sort of spell over her. Never ever. She enjoyed men, sure. But never at the expense of her sanity, her rationality. And there was nothing rational about this feeling, that probably, if he pushed her back onto the bed and covered her body with his, she wouldn’t object.

I barely know him! And this is a messed-up crazy time!
She’d always kept men at arm’s length, afraid to become too dependent on anyone. She’d always been taught by her grandmother to take care of herself. If anything, the apocalypse intensified the need to keep her distance, not minimized it.

As if thinking the same thing, Creed cleared his throat and stood, letting her hand fall back onto the bed. He stared at her for a second longer, the heat still there, and then a grin broke the intensity. “So, sweetheart,” he drawled. “We gonna talk about your road trip or what?”

* * *

With a crowbar Nina pried off the two 2×4s she and Creed had used to secure themselves inside her parents’ house the night before. The boards wouldn’t make it impossible to get in, but they’d make a lot of noise if someone tried to break down the door.

The morning was gorgeous, soft sun shining through the still-green tree leaves. Fall was coming, but the colors hadn’t changed yet. It was the last bits of summer, holding fast to the world, and Nina couldn’t believe how pretty it was. For a second she could almost pretend everything was normal. She was leaving her house to get into the car, drive to school to teach. It would have been a perfect day for a jog in the evening, with the sun slipping slowly down into the sky, the air a luscious mix of heat with hints of crisp coolness.
Oh, fall
. Her favorite season.

Except this fall was different than any other. This was the first fall of the end of the world, or at least the world as she’d known it. Looking around her, at the deserted neighborhood and the huge plumes of thick gray smoke in the distance, she was hit, suddenly, with the magnitude of everything. “Shit,” she whispered into the beautiful morning around her.

“Morning, sweetheart.”

Nina jumped at Creed’s sudden voice behind her. “Jesus, Creed!”

“Nice reflexes.” Creed nodded at the gun in her hand, which she’d immediately—instinctively—pulled from her holster.

“Next time I might shoot you,” she hissed.

“I’d outdraw you.”

“Not a chance.” She felt her blood heat up at the challenge in his voice.

“As much as I’d love to debate who’s quicker, we’ve got shit to get done.”

“Whatever,” said Nina, rolling her eyes, though she knew he was right. “Why do you think there are so many fires out there?” she asked.

Creed peered out into the distance. “Probably sections of the electrical grid got fried during the solar storm. Or maybe fast-moving gasses set things on fire. Or looters. Hard to say.”

“Jesus,” muttered Nina.

“Got that right. Come on. I made breakfast.” He turned abruptly and headed back into the house.

Nina followed him back inside. She hadn’t slept well last night. They’d spent about an hour after dinner—if you could call handfuls of Cinnamon Toast Crunch from the box and cans of Diet Pepsi dinner—debating what Nina would give Creed for his bike, before he finally told her that he was under no circumstances going to give her the motorcycle. He didn’t think she could learn to ride it well enough, and he might need it. He would, however, accompany her to her grandmother’s house.

He made it clear he’d leave almost as soon as they got there if everything looked good for Nina, if her family was there. And then he’d head on, exactly where he didn’t say and Nina didn’t care. It wasn’t ideal, but Nina was smart enough to know this was her best chance to get out of here as soon as possible. So she’d tried to rein in her anger and agreed to the arrangement.

He stayed in her house that night, in her parents’ room, which was directly on the other side of the guest room where she slept. Except “slept” wasn’t really the right word for it. She’d spent so many hours wide awake, staring at the ceiling and listening to the night around her, ears peeled for any sound of danger.

Even though she and Creed had boarded up the windows and the doors, there were so many unknowns. Fear kept creeping into her head, and a few times she had to hold herself back from tiptoeing into Creed’s room and slipping into bed with him. Not for anything other than protection, than the feeling of safety that came from being with another human being.

Though, if she were being honest, she had to admit there were moments throughout the long night when she wasn’t listening for sounds of intruders; she was listening for sounds of Creed moving around. She was wondering if he’d pulled his shirt up over his broad shoulders, if he winced at the lingering pain in his arm. If he’d then removed his jeans, and what he looked like almost naked, that rock-hard body lying restlessly on top of the covers. Because she heard him moving around too, the bed creaking, the floor too, in what sounded like relentless pacing throughout the night. They were both on edge, with only a thin wall separating them.

“Here.” Creed gestured at the kitchen table, where he’d set out a pack of pudding cups. “Breakfast.”

“This is what
making breakfast
looks like?” Nina couldn’t hold back her smile.

“These days.” Creed shrugged.

“You forgot the coffee.”

Creed raised an eyebrow at her, then stepped out onto the back porch and brought in a camping coffeepot, steam rising out of the spout.

“Well, look at you, big boy. And here I thought you’d just chew on a handful of coffee beans to get your caffeine fix.”

He flashed a smile at her, and Nina’s knees grew weak. She sank down into a chair and, while he poured her a mug of coffee, used the opportunity to check him out. He looked clean—he’d said something about getting well water to wash off, because of course Nina’s grandmother had her own well for just this purpose—and his hair was damp, making it even darker. It was messy, too, like he’d run his hand through it a few times.

His jaw, hard and chiseled, begged to be touched. The black fitted T-shirt he wore clung to his muscles, and his arms—oh god, his arms!—were so defined and strong. Even the imperfect stitches she’d given him—she’d have to check out his wound before they left—did nothing to detract from how gorgeous his biceps were. They, like his chest, were tattooed, and her eyes focused on the phoenix once again. In the morning light the swirls of red and orange were even more gorgeous. He had on a clean pair of jeans, a worn leather belt fed through the loops.

“Get your fill?” Creed’s deep voice broke through Nina’s focus on his body.

“Oh. What?” A blush heated Nina’s cheeks.

He nodded down at himself. “You want to see more?” he asked, lifting the bottom of his shirt suggestively. He was smiling, teasing, but there was something dark in his eyes as he joked with her.

Nina’s face burned, and the throbbing between her legs was undeniable, but she forced disdain into her voice all the same. “No thanks. Hey, I noticed you shaved for our big trip.”

“Yup. Don’t know when I’ll have a chance again.” He ran his hand over his smooth cheeks and jaw, and Nina couldn’t help wishing she could do the same. Just for a tiny second, just for a small taste of what his skin felt like.

Where the hell were these feelings coming from? He wasn’t even her type. More important, she couldn’t trust him. Not now. Even though she knew her grandmother was a bit of a zealot, she’d drilled the idea that nobody could be trusted in times of danger into Nina’s and Logan’s heads. “The only person you can trust is yourself,” she’d said, and that’s why she’d insisted that both of her grandchildren knew survival skills. Grandma Lottie had been right about everything else, and Nina’s own protective instincts told her to keep her feelings in check.

The only reason she was going to travel with Creed was because she needed him. Her one goal right now was to make it to her grandmother’s house to meet up with her family. What he did then was his business. And it had nothing to do with her.

* * *

After they ate they focused on packing for the trip. Creed’s motorcycle had two saddlebags, but once they started laying out necessities for the journey, they quickly realized there was less space than they’d thought. Whatever they chose to bring would have to fit into the side bags and Nina’s backpack. They agreed on the essentials: guns and ammo, a pocketknife and hunting knife for each of them, MREs (though the plan was to raid stores and homes along the way for more food), a first-aid kit with medicine, including Creed’s antibiotics, flashlights and batteries, and as many water bottles as they could fit. Nina’s BOB also had other things, like waterproof matches and a lighter. She rolled up a few changes of underwear and socks and an extra set of clothes—jeans and a T-shirt—and stuffed them into her backpack.

“Let me look at your arm before we go,” she said to Creed.

“It’s fine.” He was examining his bike and didn’t look up.

“Probably. But I don’t know how to drive that thing yet, so you’ll need your arm a little longer. Have you been taking the meds?”

He grunted in response, but looked up at her. “It’s sweet that you’re so concerned about me… s
weetheart
.”

“I’m only concerned about you because if you’re injured, you can’t get me where I need to go.”

“How utilitarian of you.”

Nina looked quickly at him in surprise.

“You’re surprised that I know such a big word?” His smirk was maddening—and insanely hot—and she wanted desperately to either slap it or kiss it off his face. She wasn’t totally sure which she’d prefer.

“No, I, uh...” It was the second time that day he’d made her stammer, made her embarrassed, and she didn’t get flustered easily. “If you want me to check out your arm, come inside with me. Last chance.”

“Baby, you can order me around like that any time you want.” His smile was even bigger now.

Nina fought down her embarrassment—again. She wasn’t going to let him see how much he affected her. She walked straight to the house, not even looking back to see if Creed was following her.

Inside he sat at the kitchen table, and she cleaned her hands with an antibacterial wipe—it was the best she had since there was no running water—then used a second wipe for good measure. She nodded at his arm, indicating that he should pull up the sleeve of his T-shirt.

He did, staring into her eyes so suggestively that he might as well have been peeling off his underwear instead of merely exposing his bicep. Flustered, she wanted to yell at him, but there was nothing to say.
Stop looking at me
? They weren’t in kindergarten. Instead, she swallowed her feelings and focused on his arm.

There shouldn’t have been anything sexy about looking at the spot where she’d sewn him up, so maybe it was the proximity, the fact that her fingers got to gently caress his skin as she felt the area, delicately cleaned it with an alcohol-soaked cotton ball, carefully applied a layer of antibiotic cream, then covered it with gauze.

His soapy and masculine odor went straight to her head, and she focused on his breathing, the minty smell of his freshly brushed teeth mixing in with his other scents. Once, he uttered a quiet but sharp intake of breath, and she glanced at his face, looking for evidence of pain. But he was staring right at her again, and when their eyes met, she had to look away, her body filled with heat.
Desire
.

“Done,” she said curtly as she secured the bandage around his arm, then started to pack up her materials.

“Thanks.” His voice sounded genuine, warm, and she glanced at him, a smile on her face. “
Sweetheart
,” he added.

Nina rolled her eyes and stalked off.

“Nina. I meant Nina.” He laughed as she walked away to finish packing everything up.

* * *

“I can’t believe you’ve never ridden on a motorcycle before.”

She shrugged. “Not everyone dreams of being a Hell’s Angels gang member. Or whatever.”

“Not everyone who rides a motorcycle is in a motorcycle
gang
.” His eyes flashed at her, brown and intense, half making fun and half in annoyance. For some reason Nina found it fun to annoy Creed. Maybe it was immature, but she hadn’t had much enjoyment for the past few weeks. She’d take what she could get.

“Does it have a name?” she asked.

“Does what have a name?”

“Your bike? You know, like Trigger or something?”

“Trigger?”

“Yeah,” she continued. “
I got my saddle, on my horse, he’s called, T-t-t-t-trigger, of course
? Like the song?”

“It’s not a fucking horse.” Creed handed her a helmet.