Through the Zombie Glass

She gulped. “There were others with you? And everyone...survived?”


“More than. We thrived.” He shook off his coat and draped the fabric over his arm. “I don’t know about you, but I’m starving. I’d love a chance to cook you dinner to thank you for allowing me to sleep on your couch.”

Wait. The he-slut of the great South knew how to cook?

Nana’s gaze met mine for a split second, her mouth forming a small O. “You’re staying the night?”

“If it’s all right with you. I’ll behave, you have my word.”

“Are you two...”

“No,” I rushed out, at the same time Gavin said, “We’re debating it.”

I glared at him. “We’re better off as friends.”

“In that case, it’ll be nice having a man around,” Nana said, once again dusting her hands together. “I bought a bookcase I wasn’t looking forward to putting together.”

“I’ll do it,” he said. “I’m always ready for a chance to be a hero.”

She giggled like a schoolgirl—a dirty, dirty schoolgirl—and I did a double take. “You already are. The bookcase can wait until after dinner, though. I’ve got a few more things to arrange in my room.”

The moment we were alone, I anchored my hands on my hips. “Will you please stop forgetting you’re into brunettes?”

“I realized I can’t see hair color in the dark.”

Oh, wow. “However will I continue to resist such wondrous flattery?”

Smiling, he swept around me and entered the kitchen. “What can’t be manufactured is attitude, and I happen to like yours.”

I came in behind him and opened the fridge to grab something to drink. It was now fully stocked with all my favorites. Orange juice, milk, protein shakes, fruits, vegetables and even the chocolate cupcakes I liked to eat cold. I groaned.

“What?” Gavin said.

“She spent too much money on me.”

“Most girls wouldn’t complain about that.”

I selected one of the shakes. “Most girls don’t have my Nana. I want to pamper her, not the other way around.”

Gavin reached in behind me to snag a juice. Our arms brushed, and I scowled up at him.

“Stop trying to seduce me,” I said.

“Why? Is it working?”

“If you like to be stabbed, yes.”

“I’ve let girls do a lot worse to me.”

I shook my head, exasperated.

“Look, I don’t want to go home. I’ve been dividing my time between Cole’s house, a crappy motel and the homes of the women I’m fu...screwing.”

“You can say it. My ears won’t melt off.”

He snorted. “Cole says we’re not to cuss around you. Potty mouth is contagious, I guess. Anyway. A guy can only take so much. I’m desperate for a break.”

Well, I couldn’t exactly kick him out now. I wasn’t that cruel.

I nodded my agreement before moving around him.

He grinned at me, his eyes alight with mischief. “You act all proper now, but in the visions, you’ve definitely got a lady boner for me.”

I choked on a laugh. “Lady boner?”

He shrugged. “I kinda like knowing there are two sides to you and I’m the one responsible.”

Two sides to me. He had no idea one of those sides was the enemy. “Gavin.”

“Nah. You don’t need to put me in my place again. Whether you admit it or not, you’re softening toward me.”

Absolutely, but not in the way he wanted.

A knock sounded at the door, and I stiffened.

“I bet that’s Cole,” he said with a sigh. “I expected him sooner.”

No way. Cole wouldn’t come after me. Not after the public rejection I’d just dished. And yet I was trembling as I opened the door. Annnd...sure enough, tall, strong and impossibly beautiful Cole waited on the other side.

Sweet mercy.

“Kat and Reeve are both fine,” he said, one arm propped against the wooden frame. “They’re with Frosty and Bronx.”

“Did the guys hurt Ethan?”

“No. He was pretty freaked out by what he’d seen. They questioned him, nothing more.”

Gena Showalter's books