by T. A. Brock
While he did the whole wading in the water thing again, Cori watched his face. He seemed troubled. His dark eyebrows were drawn tightly over his eyes, causing his forehead to crinkle. His normally full lips were a grim slash set in his face. And his jaw was clenched so that it looked like it might crack under the pressure. After minutes of silence, he perched on the same rock they’d used the day before, his feet dangling over the edge. She followed, sitting next to him but not touching him.
“Why are we here?” she asked finally when he still hadn’t said anything.
Grayson shrugged, staring into the white-capped water as it rushed by. “I wanted to be alone with you. This seemed like the best place.”
“The cemetery?” she laughed, jokingly.
His brow furrowed more, his pale skin creasing deeper between his eyes. “The river,” he corrected. He started to get up. “We can go now,” he said roughly. But she caught him by the hand, stopping him.
“No, we just got here. It’s fine.”
Grayson settled back on the rock. But when she would have kept holding his hand, he pulled it away. Cori felt her face flare red. She had no idea how to act with him. Or what exactly they were. He’d had regrets about last night and nothing had really even happened, so she clenched her hands in her lap and took her turn staring into the water.
“This is the only place I ever go. Here and home,” he muttered. “I don’t know where else to take you.”
“I like it here,” she told him.
“Yeah, right.” He smirked.
“I do. It’s quiet and pretty and…”
“Wet and cold and muddy,” he finished, picking up a stone and tossing it into the stream.
“Yeah, but…” He was here. And she would take being with him on the damp riverbank over being alone in her warm, dry house any day.
“But what?”
She glanced at him. He was still staring at the water like it was the only thing his eyes could see.
She sighed. “I’d rather be here than home.”
He finally looked at her, his gaze searching. “Why? Don’t you like your home?”
She traced the contours of the rock ledge while she thought about how to answer. What would be the least embarrassing thing to say but yet still the truth? She settled on a phrase her dad used to use. “A place is only as good as the people in it.”
With him staring at her like he was—like he was trying to solve a puzzle—she got the undeniable urge to crawl under a boulder and stay there for a hundred years. But that was crazy, so she did the next best thing: looked away.
Suddenly, Grayson’s fingers were curling under her chin, bringing her head back around. “Why do you always do that?”
“Do what?”
“Look away when I’m trying to figure out what you’re thinking.”
She shrugged, struggling not to look away again. Like he was one to talk. He was always avoiding her gaze.
“I’m confused about what’s going on between us,” she admitted.
Looking into her eyes, he shook his head. “There is nothing going on between us.”
Oh. Cori felt her face turn cherry red. Had she misunderstood everything? But they were at least friends now, right?
Somehow she summoned the courage to say one more thing. “Well, I guess I’m trying to figure out what we are.” She could barely make her voice work, her throat was so thick with embarrassment.
“We are nothing,” he said with a cold dead voice that felt like a slap to her cheek.
“Oh.”
Cori hugged her knees to her chest because she felt less exposed like that. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. It reverberated through her mind. So they weren’t friends and they definitely weren’t more like she’d been hoping for. She rested her head on her knees.
“It’s not such a great place now, is it?” Grayson whispered.
She remained silent.
“Do you want me to take you home?”
It was the tone of his voice that brought everything into focus: he sounded…hopeful. Did he want her to leave?
That’s when the light bulb clicked on. They weren’t nothing—she didn’t think so and neither did he. He’d said he brought her here so they could be alone. That must mean something. So why did he sound like he was trying to get rid of her? There was one explanation and it also explained why she kept getting mixed signals from him.
Cori lifted her head to look at him with narrowed eyes. “Do you enjoy playing games with my feelings?”
His eyebrows raised in surprise. “No. I—”
“Why did you bring me here just to turn around and make me go?”
He didn’t answer.
“That’s what you’re doing, right? Trying to upset me so I’ll leave.”
Grayson looked away, and Cori knew she was right.
“You know what I think?” she continued, uncurling her legs. “I think you’re afraid.” He didn’t respond. Didn’t even move a muscle. She got closer to him. “What are you afraid of, Grayson?” Was it because he was sick? Because he was terminal? Was he terminal? She didn’t know for sure.
When he looked at her, his expression had changed. It wasn’t aloof or cold or even angry. It was pained. Tortured.
“What? What makes you look at me like that?” she asked, almost to herself. Cori leaned even closer as if that would help answer her question. It didn’t.
“You need to back up,” he said, his voice strangled.
Her eyes roamed all around his face. She recalled last night when he’d been so tender with her, the way he’d looked. It had transformed him into something real—not the stony façade he so liked to wear. Now, gazing in his eyes, she could see it again. It was there just under the surface.
She didn’t back up. She didn’t shrink back at all. She inched closer.
His eyes widened, the brown-flecked green all she could see. His short breaths puffed between them. “If you come any closer I’m going to kiss you. I won’t be able to help it,” he said desperately.
The declaration shocked her, sent a jolt of anticipation straight through her. Even the rock beneath her felt warmer. And yet he sounded ominous, as if his words were meant as a warning.
What would it be like, she wondered, to be kissed by him? She was still reeling from the fact that he wanted to. She wanted the same thing. She’d wanted it last night. Maybe even from the first day. But then she realized he’d said “if.” That meant she had to do something first. What was it? Oh yeah, move closer.
Just as she made the decision to lean in, his expression changed again. She could almost see his resistance crumbling as an ancient stone wall would, brick by brick, dissolving into dust.
“Never mind,” he breathed and his mouth came down on hers, his hand reaching up to slip around her neck and pull her close. His lips weren’t gentle. Neither were they careful. They were silken steel. And they demanded a response.
He probably meant to scare her—another attempt at pushing her away—but she liked that he wasn’t timid. And she wasn’t going to let him keep messing with her. Today, here and now—well, whenever they finished kissing—they were going to put a name to whatever they were.
Decision made, she wound her arms around his neck, leaning into him. A bold move for her. But then, he was kissing her.
Grayson’s arm wrapped around her waist and hauled her even closer while his lips continued their assault. It was electric, the sensations she was enduring. And yet, she didn’t think she would ever get enough. She’d kissed a few guys—barely meeting the definition of three or more—but none had ever left her feeling like this. None had held her so tightly or kissed her so firmly, almost possessively. Yes, he kissed her as though she was his to kiss. She sort of liked the idea. And wow, she might as well have been experiencing her first kiss all over again because those others could never hope to compare. She wondered if any future kisses would hold a match to the one she was locked in right now. Had he ruined her for any others?
&
nbsp; When his mouth opened, hers did too, and the sweetness of his breath rushed in, causing receptors in her brain to misfire. There were bells and cannons and fireworks. Her heart pounded and her fingers felt numb. It was the best kind of disorientation.
She’d never been kissed like this, and she had no idea what to do. She might have gone limp for a second. But when his lips softened and became almost tentative, she pulled herself together.
She didn’t want him to stop.
He was holding her gently now, his hand curved around her cheek as if she were delicate china. His tongue, so soft, lapped at hers. Was she in heaven? Because really, this feeling couldn’t happen on earth. Right?
Right.
After a moment, Grayson pulled back. He was still close. She could feel his heavy breathing, but she couldn’t open her eyes. Her mind was a fog, and it seemed like her physical body was miles away. Except he was holding her, so no, she wasn’t floating. She forced her lids to open and met his brilliant mossy eyes—eyes that appeared to question. What were they asking? At that moment he seemed almost vulnerable.
She said the first thing that came to her mind. “Am I dead?”
His forehead crinkled. “No,” he said, sounding defensive.
“Oh.” Cori tried to clear her head. “Because that was heavenly.”
In an instant, his brow unfurled and his eyes widened in surprise. “I shouldn’t have done that,” he muttered even as he planted more kisses on her cheek and jaw.
“Why?” she mumbled distractedly. He rested his forehead to hers, breathing ragged. She didn’t have to wonder if he’d felt the same way about their first kiss—it was there in his actions.
Grayson didn’t answer her question though; he just said quietly, “I lost control.”
Cori took a deep breath and noticed how badly she shook on the exhale. “I wish you’d lose control more often.”
Chapter 16
Secrets and Regrets
GRAYSON TRIED TO CALM DOWN. He called to mind every trick Leiv had ever taught him…and then he would feel Cori against him and the thing that thumped behind his chest—he wasn’t sure it could really be called a heart anymore, not since his rising—would pump faster, trying to distribute the water his body needed. He just couldn’t believe he was holding her, that he’d kissed her.
He was so very ashamed.
But then she’d said things like “heavenly” and “more often” and he found it hard to contain the joy that snaked through him.
He wanted to do it all again. Her lips had been just as sweet as he’d imagined—no, sweeter. And soft. She was soft as the clouds looked. He wanted to remember it forever. And he would. Zombies had near perfect memory from their rising—even if everything before was a picture riddled with holes—so he’d retain it all. Her softness, her breath, her tongue. The way her eyelids drooped. Her hands in his hair.
His heart pumped wildly, requiring more water. He placed one palm against the rock where moisture had pooled. It would have to do for now.
He hadn’t known he could feel so torn over a simple kiss. Oh, but there was nothing simple about it. He’d kissed Cori. And that was different. Not simple at all. He’d kissed his Save, the one who was supposed to die for him.
The thought sent a powerful kick to his gut. He knew in that instant that he would never allow it to happen. She was too good to ruin. She was meant to live and thrive. Really, he’d known from the beginning he would never go through with it. Maybe that’s why he’d hated her at first.
He forced himself to release her. She still looked dazed, and there was a long stretch of silence between them while they both stared at the water that rushed by.
Cori broke it. “Look, I know you’re worried because of your…sickness. But whatever you have, it isn’t contagious, is it?”
Contagious? No, not yet. He was years from the Age of Deterioration. He shook his head.
“I know you said you didn’t want to talk about it, but maybe we should. Just get it over with.”
“It’s not something I can talk about, Cori.”
“It’s bad?”
He nodded. He wanted to get mad and storm off and leave her stranded. That would show her for bringing it up. But he couldn’t find a reason to be angry. She was observant. Who could blame her for asking questions?
“Is it…fatal?” she asked, her voice unsure.
Aaannnd that was one he absolutely couldn’t answer. Because he was already dead.
“Why are you asking so many questions?” His voice was sharper than he’d intended.
“Because, I’m tired of being the one who’s confused about where we stand,” she snapped right back. When she got all sassy like that it made him want to smile.
“I thought I just cleared that up for you.”
“No.” She shook her head. “That was you, kissing my socks off. How am I supposed to know if you’ll have regrets later and start pushing me away again?”
He gazed into her searching eyes. “I’ll always have regrets.” A hurt look came across her face, and he hated seeing it. But he was telling the truth. He would always regret getting involved with her.
Even still, he had to work to keep from reaching for her.
“Always?” she asked in a small voice.
He nodded and she looked away.
“So, I guess that means you don’t want to…I guess we aren’t…” She drifted off and put her face in her hands.
Grayson scowled. “What?”
“This is so embarrassing.”
“Why are you embarrassed?” Now he was confused. And quickly running out of patience.
“I keep thinking there’s more going on here and you consistently tell me there’s not. I just don’t understand. I mean, why…why did you kiss me like that?”
“Because I wanted to. I’ve wanted to for a while. So I did.” Simple answer.
She looked up at him. Her expression was almost annoyed. “You wanted to. Even though you knew you’d regret it. That makes no sense.”
“I don’t regret kissing you, Cori.”
She threw her hands up in frustration. “Would you please just tell me what is going on here? I need to know where we are. I can’t stand the wondering.” Her eyes were fiery with aggravation, but they were also pleading. He understood her need for reassurance. He wanted it too, but he couldn’t ask her for such a thing. For him, there would never be any reassurance.
But for her there could be.
Grayson took her hand because it was safer than taking her mouth again. And besides, if he did that he might lose his nerve.
“I think about you all the time,” he told her. “When I’m not with you, I’m wondering what you’re doing, who you’re with, if you’re smiling or crying, what you’re eating.” He smiled a little and let the tips of his fingers brush over her bottom lip. It was hard to tell her these things—even harder to believe he was actually feeling them—but it was easier when she was blushing like she was. “I like being close to you. I want…” He wanted so many things. Suddenly, being human again only topped them because it meant he would be free to be with Cori. “I want the same thing you want. I think. I mean, I think that’s what you want.”
She tilted her head to the side, almost like she found it hard to make eye contact, as though if she looked at him sideways it would be easier. “Then why did you say you had regrets?” she whispered. She seemed so vulnerable, so unsure.
Of course, it took him that long to realize she didn’t understand the reason behind those regrets and he probably just seemed fickle.
Grayson pulled her close again—he couldn’t help himself. “Because.” His voice was riddled with gravel. “No matter what happens, in the end you’ll be the one who gets hurt. So yes, I’ll always regret being with you.” He swept some of that silky hair back from her face so he could see it better. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t want to be with you.”
Her eyes were big. He could see the darker blue ring around her pupils.
“You want to be with me?” she repeated in an almost inaudible whisper.
More than anything, he wanted to say. But he had to watch himself, had to be careful with her, so he just nodded.
“Me too,” she said.
With her words, he was torn in two because the part of him that knew it was wrong was battling ferociously with the part of him that wanted it so badly. In the end, he couldn’t deny that the idea of them together made him happy, and happy was something Grayson hadn’t been in a long, long time. He craved being happy again, so that was the part of him that won the battle—the part that wanted happiness.
“Are you sure?”
She bit down on her lip and nodded. He felt sorry for that lip. After all, there were better things she could be doing with it. With that thought in mind, Grayson bent his head to hers and kissed her again, not bothering to be ashamed this time. He would deal with shame later. For now he would be happy. Not an ounce of shame entered his head when Cori wrapped her arms around his neck, drawing closer. Nope, not even a little.
The kiss was just as powerful as the first but he didn’t let it go as far. He pulled back just enough to see her eyes. They helped ground him. Those eyes…Yes, they were like a lighthouse in a storm. And he felt like he’d been in a tempest since the day of his rising, only now, since having met her, finding his way. Was this the basis of the connection between a zombie and his Save?
After a minute she said, “Are you going to ignore me tomorrow?”
He rested his forehead against hers, his arms still holding her firmly in place, and breathed her in. “No, why?”
She half shrugged. “I don’t know, you’re pretty moody. I’d just like to know beforehand if you think you’ll change your mind.”
Moody? Him? “Yeah, well you’re pretty short,” he grumbled.
“But that has no bearing on how I feel about you.”
He pulled back once more to stare into her eyes, but she refused to look at him. So he made her. “I told you how I feel about you,” he said seriously. “It won’t change.”
