My Girlfriend, the Zombie: A Zombie Romance Story

by Senese, Rebecca M.

  MY GIRLFRIEND, THE ZOMBIE

  A Zombie Romance Story

  by

  Rebecca M. Senese

  SMASHWORDS EDITION, 2011

  * * * * *

  PUBLISHED BY:

  RFAR Publishing on Smashwords

  My Girlfriend, the Zombie

  Copyright © (2011) by Rebecca M. Senese

  Cover Design copyright © (2011) by RFAR Publishing

  Cover art copyright © Lolya1988/Dreamstime.com

  All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

  Smashwords Edition License Notes

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  * * * * *

  MY GIRLFRIEND, THE ZOMBIE

  Sharon was the most beautiful girl Mitch had ever seen: long raven-dark hair that flowed halfway down her back, pale skin so smooth and silky he could barely stop running his fingers up her forearm. That always made her laugh, a joyful, light sound that lingered in his ears long after she’d left. How had she ever ended up on a dating site? Men should have been beating down her door.

  “I don’t have time for bars and nonsense,” she said at their first meeting in his favorite coffee shop on Euclid. It was one of the few independent places where you could still find a cup of regular Joe for under a buck. Of course, they were also happy to sell you the fancy lattes and herbal teas but at times Mitch appreciated simplicity. He also liked gauging women’s reactions to the Spartan, ordinary surroundings.

  Sharon had arrived on time and with a nod, sat down in the plain chair across from him.

  “Nice place,” she said. “The coffee smells great.”

  “It can be strong,” he said.

  “Good.” Her eyes sparkled at him. “I like it strong.”

  And he was smitten.

  “How did you end up on New Date, New Life?” he said.

  She dumped sugar and a dollop of milk into her coffee. “I don’t have time for bars and nonsense. How about you?”

  “My friend Brian swore by it.” Mitch shrugged. “I never thought I’d try something like that.”

  “I know. I was a little leery at first, you always hear about the weirdos. But I thought I would give it a try.” She smiled at him.

  “How’s it working out for you?” he said.

  She took a sip of her coffee. Her red lipstick left a perfect imprint on the edge of the mug. “So far so good.”

  Then she laughed for the first time, that joyful trill that lingered in his memory all through the next day at work.

  But that evening the half hour coffee date lasted three hours. Mitch learned she was a real estate agent, specializing in condos in the north end of the city. She lived three blocks from where she grew up and loved skiing in the winter.

  His tale about growing up on a small farm and moving to the city for computer science at university seemed to fascinate her. She asked dozens of questions about his life and hung on every word. Even drinking decaf, Mitch found himself buzzing at the end of the night, surprised when the waitress came to their table to tell them the shop was closing.

  “What? Is it already eleven?” He pulled out his cell phone. Sure enough, ten fifty-seven shone out at him. They’d been here since eight.

  “Oh my, I didn’t realize it was so late.” Sharon scooped up her purse but Mitch shook his head.

  “It’s on me.” He headed for the cashier and settled their bill. She waited by the door. As he followed her out, the waitress caught his attention. She nodded and gave him an approving wink.

  “Let me walk you to your car,” he said. Feeling a little foolish, he held out his arm.

  “Thank you, kind sir.” She slipped her hand around his arm, tucking into his elbow. Although her flesh was cool, he felt a warmth spread through him. Even her slightly earthy scent appealed to him.

  “I can’t imagine where the time went,” he said. Their footsteps echoed down the sidewalk. She pointed toward the white parking sign down the block.

  “I know,” she said. “It feels like it was only half an hour like we planned. Maybe it was some kind of time distortion.”

  His heart thudded. Could a woman who looked like this actually read science fiction?

  “Do you like SF?” he said.

  “I love Sturgeon,” she said. “Clarke, all the older ones. But I love horror even more. Frankenstein’s my favorite and Poe.”

  They launched into a discussion of books and genres that slowed their pace until it took them almost twenty minutes to reach the parking lot. Finally at the entrance, when they’d stood for five minutes discussing views on Dhalgren, Sharon shook her head and laughed.

  “I can’t believe it. You got me started all over again when I really need to get home.”

  “Sorry,” he said, not feeling the least bit sorry. He couldn’t remember the last time he talked to a woman who loved to read.

  “Have you read...” he started.

  “Stop!” Her cool fingers pressed against his parted lips. The earthy scent floated up to his nostrils as he inhaled deeply. He could almost taste her skin.

  “I really need to get home.” Her voice whispered. The pupils of her eyes darkened, making her pale face even paler. Her dark hair was a shadow. His hand touched her waist. She moved forward and his hand slid around to her back.

  Her lips replaced her fingers on his lips.

  He didn’t notice the overall coldness of her flesh at that time. He had other things on his mind.

  Ushering her to her car, he extracted a promise of dinner on Friday in two days. Her hand squeezed his after he closed the door for her. He waved as she drove off, watching spellbound as the red of the her taillights vanished around the corner. He stood in a daze for a few minutes before he shook himself out of it and headed home.

  At work the next day Brian cornered him by the coffee machine.

  “So? How did it go?” Brian grabbed two sugar packets and shook them back and forth, to get the sugar to settle at the bottom.

  “It was fine,” Mitch said.

  “Just fine? That’s it?” Brian frowned. “Did she get an emergency phone call or something? They arrange those things in advance, you know.”

  “No emergency call,” Mitch said. “The coffee date was fine. All three hours of it.”

  He turned away with a smile.

  “Three hours?” Brian hurried after him. “Weren’t you supposed to meet for half an hour?”

  “It went a little longer.”

  Brian slapped a hand on Mitch’s shoulder, almost spilling Mitch’s coffee.

/>   “What did I tell you? That New Date, New Life site is great! Melissa’s a dream. You don’t hit a home run right out of the gate like that too often.”

  “Gee Brian, I didn’t know baseball had gates.”

  “You know what I mean. Are you seeing Sharon again?” Brian’s eyebrows lifted high on his forehead.

  “Friday,” Mitch said. “We’re having dinner on Friday.”

  “And breakfast on Saturday.” Brian grinned.

  Mitch felt a flush warm his cheeks. He didn’t want to admit how appealing that was. “I don’t know. I’ll see how it goes.”

  Brian laughed.

  * * * *

  As Friday counted down, Mitch felt himself get more and more nervous. What if Sharon wasn’t as great as he’d imagined? What if she turned out to be some kind of harpy or tried to cling to him like his ex had? By Friday afternoon, he was almost a nervous wreck, imagining all sorts of horrifying events. He took a late lunch and power walked around the block several times, trying to clear his head.

  What the hell was the matter with him? Why was he getting himself into such knots over a girl he’d met once?

  Because she wasn’t just a girl, he finally had to admit to himself as he passed the bank on the corner for the third time, brushing past the fake palm fronds that sat out front. She might just be The One.

  Settle down, he thought. It’s only dinner.

  He repeated that for the rest of the afternoon and even all the way to the restaurant. His hands still felt clammy as he sat in the side booth and ordered a beer. The temptation to gulp the entire bottle was strong but he managed to settle for just a sip, setting the bottle back onto the cardboard coaster. The sip helped, as did sitting at his favorite booth in his favorite Italian restaurant. If for some reason the date turned out to be disastrous, he knew he’d at least have decent linguini.

  All doubts vanished when Sharon appeared in the doorway of the restaurant. A pale blue dress hugged her curves. The neckline sloped down, teasing but not revealing too much. Her dark hair was clipped at the sides of her head and trailed down over her shoulders. She scanned the restaurant, expression uncertain then a smile lit up her face when she spotted him. He gave her a little wave as she headed over.

  No way could a woman like that ever be a harpy or clingy, how could he have even thought that?

  He stood as she approached the booth. She stepped up to him and brushed her lips against his cheek. Her earthy scent filled his nostrils. He breathed in deep and felt his entire body relax, except for one tell tale part of him. He hastily sat down so she wouldn’t notice.

  She sat across from him, setting her purse on the table near the wall. “Good evening, Mitch.” Her voice purred and her smile lit up the room.

  He didn’t even taste the linguini and didn’t notice how she barely touched hers.

  Again the hours sped by and they closed the restaurant. She linked her arm through his and pressed herself against him, her thigh brushing his leg. He almost stumbled, finding it suddenly uncomfortable to walk.

  “Would you like a night cap?” he said. His pounding heart thudded in every part of his body.

  She leaned against his arm and he felt the coolness of her skin through his short sleeves. “I’d love one.”

  She ended up staying for breakfast after all. Although she only drank coffee.

  * * * *

  Weeks flew by. Sharon started spending weekends at his place, bringing over a small overnight bag on Fridays and leaving late Sunday afternoon. They also met a couple of times a week for dinner at his favorite Italian place or at her favorite Sushi place. As they settled into a routine, Mitch began to notice that she didn’t eat much at the Italian place. Her fork moved the spaghetti from one side of the plate to the other as she talked and she barely ever took a bite. Concerned, he began to pay closer attention on the weekends and realized she never ate breakfast, only drank from the thermos she brought over. At other meals, she picked at the food or they were so busy, they forgot to eat. He’d find himself starving in the middle of the night and sneak out to raid the fridge while she slept curled on the bed.

  She didn’t seem overly concerned with her weight so he didn’t think she had an eating disorder. It just seemed... odd.

  He also noticed that no matter what the temperature, her skin stayed cool. Even in the heat of passion she felt cold to the touch and her flesh exuded an earthy smell. One Saturday evening, as he lay catching his breath, she cuddled against him, her cheek cold pressed against his chest. His fingers traced along her shoulder and down her arm, her skin cool to his touch.

  “Are you chilly?” he said. “I can pull up the blanket.”

  “Hmmm,” she purred and cuddled closer to him. “I feel all warm and glowing.”

  “Really?” he said. “You sure you aren’t cold?”

  She lifted her head. “Why do you ask?”

  “Your skin is, I don’t know, a little chilly. I just don’t want you to be cold.”

  She rested her head on the pillow beside him. “I’m fine. I’m not cold.”

  He noticed the tightness in her voice and she hadn’t returned her head to her normal resting place on his chest. “That’s good. I’d hate to think you might be a vampire.”

  He held his breath a moment. Then she laughed, her usual trilling laugh and he was able to breathe normally.

  “You’re funny, Mitch,” she said. “If I was a vampire, could you resist me?”

  He turned his head, presenting his neck to her. “Bite away, dear lady!”

  She laughed again and nibbled on the side of his neck. The nibbles turned to kisses and soon he forgot exactly how cold her skin was in the fire she stirred inside him.

  The next morning she had to head home early. A planned open house needed her attention.

  “You’re only allowed to leave if I can see you later tonight,” he said, his arm fixed around her waist. She laughed and squirmed against him.

  “Okay, okay,” she said. “Come by after eight. I’ll have something special for you.” Her lingering kiss left him breathless.

  The afternoon dragged on until almost seven. He headed over and with light traffic arrived at seven thirty. She wouldn’t mind, he thought as he rang the doorbell to her townhouse. It echoed back, muffled by the door. After a moment, he heard something shuffling.

  “Who’s there?” a voice called.

  “It’s Mitch,” he said. “Sharon, is that you?”

  “Mitch, you’re early!”

  “Yeah, traffic was fast. You don’t mind, do you?”

  “I was just eating. Wait a minute.”

  “Sharon...”

  The shuffling moved away from the door. He grabbed the brass door knob and twisted. It didn’t move. She hadn’t unlocked the door for him. Did she have some kind of eating disorder, he wondered. Had he turned a blind eye to it? He wouldn’t do so again. She needed his help and he’d do all he could to support her.

  The door opened and she stood smiling at him. “I expected you at eight. Come in!”

  He slipped inside and she led him into the living room. “Would you like a beer or coffee?” she said.

  He caught her hand and tugged her closer to him. His fingers traced up the coolness of her forearm.

  “Sharon, I have to ask you something,” he said. “Do you have a problem with food?”

  Her brows drew together. “What?”

  “You hardly ever eat anything when we’re together, you just push the food around on your plate. You don’t want to let me in when you’re eating. If there’s a problem I want to help.”

  She shook her head. “There’s no problem, Mitch. I just have... different dietary requirements. It’s no big deal.” She shrugged.

  “What is it? Are you vegetarian or vegan? I can accommodate that.”

  She looked away. “It’s not as simple as that.”

  “Is it like kosher or halal?”

  “No, no, nothing like that. Really it’s nothing.”

&n
bsp; “Sharon, tell me. You can tell me anything.”

  She looked up at him and he could see the pleading in her gaze. “Mitch, it really isn’t anything.”

  “Then if it isn’t anything, why can’t you tell me?”

  “Stop it, Mitch, just stop it!” She yanked her arm out of his hand and turned away. She stormed out of the living room. He started to follow then changed his mind. If she wouldn’t tell him outright, he’d have to find out for himself. Something felt very wrong and he wasn’t going to let her hide it from him. He’d walked around blindly in too many relationships. Not this time.

  He charged into the kitchen and pulled open the cupboards. A set of dishes and glasses occupied the first two cupboards but where canned goods and other foodstuffs should be it was empty. Strange. He turned toward the fridge.

  Sharon hurried in and grabbed his arm.

  “Mitch, don’t!”

  Her strength surprised him. She almost succeeded in pushing him away but he backed off suddenly, causing her to stumble forward. He slipped past her and yanked open the fridge door.

  Bottles of beer and a pitcher of water sat on the top shelf. The other shelves held wrapped paper packages. He grabbed open and tore off the wrapping.

  At first he thought it was ground beef but the texture looked wrong. The coloring was greyer. It looked like...

  “Oh Mitch...” Sharon said. Tears leaked out of her eyes and flowed down her pale cheeks.

  “What is this?” he said. “Is this brains?”

  She snatched the package from him and stuffed it back in the fridge, slamming the door shut.

  “Sharon, was that brains?”

  “Just calves’ brains,” she said, sounding defensive.

  “Are all of those packages brains?”

  She stood in front of the closed door, blocking it. “Maybe.”