Um. “Did you just quote Nicholas Sparks? Or rather, Ryan Gosling from The Notebook?”
A pause, a chuckle. “Was hoping you wouldn’t catch that.”
Too bad. “And you’re not dying of shame for memorizing something from a chick flick?”
“Baby, that movie isn’t a chick flick. It’s the best wingman of all time. Any guy can get laid afterward. Besides, the thought of Ryan Gosling made you go all dreamy and crap.”
It had. It so had. Well played, Cole Holland. Well played. “Have you ever had a one-night stand?” But I was back on track now.
He kissed my temple. “Where is this coming from?”
“I don’t know,” I admitted. “I feel so out of control right now, like I could pull out my hair, and then pull out yours, and then hug you and kiss you, and maybe eat a big stack of chocolate-chip cookies.”
“That’s... Okay, wow. You are weird in the most perfect way.”
“That doesn’t answer my question.”
A pause. A sigh. “Yes. I’ve had a one-night stand.”
“With who?” I asked, already jealous of the faceless girl. Or girls.
“To be honest, I don’t even know their names.”
Names. Plural. Just how many girls did I need to hospitalize?
“So...what do you want to be when you grow up?” he asked. “Assuming all zombies have been wiped out by then.”
I grabbed on to the distraction this time. It was a lifeline. “Seriously? That’s how you phrase it?”
“Why not?”
“When I get older,” I said with emphasis, “I want to... Don’t you dare laugh! I want to be a counselor or something.”
“Why would I laugh? You’ll make a great counselor, helping people blubber about their—”
I twisted his nipple ring.
“Ow!” He pried my fingers loose. “You’ve been through so much,” he said, serious now. “You can understand people and pain in a way so many others cannot.”
“What about you? What do you want to do?”
“I’ve got it all figured out. On my downtime, I’ll be a survivalist, taking people out in the woods and teaching them how to thrive.”
“And telling them what to do.”
“That’s just a bonus.”
“Well, it’s perfect for you. But what about your up time?”
“Law enforcement.”
Even more perfect. “You’ll get to deal with punk kids with secrets.”
He flashed a dazzling grin. “Karma.”
“The cow.” I yawned, a wave of fatigue sneaking up on me.
“Sleep.”
“No. Talk.” But his warmth was lulling me deeper and deeper into a sea of darkness, and I soon drifted off....
I’m not sure how much time passed before he woke me up with a kiss.
“We’ve got to head back to River’s, love. I need to find out if anything new was learned.”
“Mmm, ’kay,” I said and rolled to my side to sleep some more.
Chuckling, he gave my butt a light tap. “Up or I start tickling.”
“And I start punching.”
“Let’s hold off on the foreplay until we’re where we need to be.”
*
Cole met with River, and I went back to bed. When I awoke, however long later, Cole was sitting at the side of the bed, watching me, his expression soft and tender.
“Good morning,” he said with a grin.
I sat up, mumbled, “Yeah, yeah.” I was sore and my mind was screaming one word over and over—sex, sex, sex.
“Hope you’re hungry.” He placed a tray piled high with pancakes over my lap. “They aren’t chocolate-chip cookies, but I thought you’d enjoy them anyway.”
I’m not sure how he’d managed to climb in and out of bed without waking me, but he had, and now he was encompassed by the bright light of a new day, looking sexier than ever while I probably sported a major case of bedhead.
“You’re blushing,” he said.
Because we just had sex! “Well, you’re annoying me,” I muttered.
He gave me the laugh reserved solely for me. “Note to self. Ali-gator turns into an Ali-cat when she doesn’t get enough rest.”
“And you’re about to have the scratches to prove it.”
“Oh, no,” he said, holding up his hands. “I’d hate to have your nails embedded anywhere on me...again.”
I stuck my tongue out at him.
He rubbed his knuckles into my crown.
“Stop!”
“Eat.”
“Fine.” I ate, showered—alone—and dressed in clean clothes that actually fit—thanks, whoever!—and tried not to think about everything we’d done in each other’s arms. It was as I towel-dried my hair that I realized Cole and I hadn’t yet had a new vision. I tried not to panic. The last time we’d stopped having visions, we’d broken up.
“Cole,” I said, frantically moving in front of him as I fastened a leather cuff around each of my wrists. Anything that made it harder for zombies to bite down became a vital part of my wardrobe. “We didn’t have a vision.”