Page 34 of Outbreak

“You may,” Maverick responds. I feel like I’m in a weird 1960’s movie.

“Thank you, Aspen. It was delicious,” Ghost says, addressing his wife. She lifts her eyes to her husband, and he nods his head in approval before she speaks.

“You’re welcome.” Her voice is hoarse and just about as frail as her body, as if she isn’t allowed to use it very often.

What the fuck is going on in this house?

My whole body is screaming that something is seriously wrong here and I’m missing something, but before I can do something stupid like ask what the fuck is going on, Ghost speaks up.

“We’ve had a rough couple of days. We’ll get some sleep and talk tomorrow, if that’s okay.”

“Tomorrow,” is all his ‘friend’ responds as he nods once at Ghost, a dark undertone in his voice that I don’t like.

With that weird ass exchange, Ghost stands, and helps me out of my chair, grabbing a candle on the way up. He leads meback up the stairs and into the guest bedroom. I close the door behind me, letting out a long breath before I look up at him.

“What. The. Fuck. Was. That?”

CHAPTER 27

Ghost

The amount of sass that comes out of such a tiny little spitfire like her amazes me. I don’t really know how to answer her question as she stands there with her hands on her hips, waiting for some logical explanation for why Maverick is the way he is and what the fuck is going on with his wife. I don’t think I want to tell her. I don’t trust her to keep her mouth shut while we’re here. So I settle for half truths and sugar-coated bullshit as I pull the covers back on the pristinely made bed. I’d venture to say they’ve never had a guest stay over, yet the sheets are freshly washed and smell like heaven.

“I told you. Maverick is different.”

“Clearly, asshole,” she whisper-shouts at me. Of course, she wouldn’t let that answer slide.“What does that mean?”

“He lives his life by his own rules. He doesn’t conform to society's standards.”

“No shit! I picked up on that when he fed his wife on the floor! And why didn’t he ask anything about the shit that’s going on? It was like stepping into a different world in that room. Does he even know the world is going to shit outside his door?”

“He knows. She doesn’t,” I say as I peel off my shirt and toss it on the dresser top and slide my sweats down. I fold them inhalf and toss them up there too, waiting for Rue to continue this interrogation, but she’s silent. When I look up at her, she’s staring at me like she did when I came out of the bathroom.

“Wh-what are you doing?” The nervous jitter in her voice excites me.

“Getting ready for bed.”

“Why are you taking your clothes off?”

She’s adorable. She’s still fighting this.

“This is how I sleep in a real bed, Rue.”

“I, uh… huh.”

“Feel free to getcomfortable,too.” I like seeing her like this, flustered and stuttering to find her words. She seems to struggle with whether or not she wants to sleep fully clothed when we both know she normally sleeps in her birthday suit.

She shuffles her feet from side to side at the end of the bed for a few moments. By the time I make it back to the bed, blow out the candle, and crawl beneath the covers, she still hasn’t moved.

“What’s wrong?”

“I-uh… don’t trust myself in bed with you and no clothes. Can I just sleep on the floor?”

“Get in bed, Rue.” She’s definitely not getting off the hook, though I’m proud she could at least admit that out loud. Progress.

She fidgets some more, twisting her hands together for a brief moment before she lets out a deep sigh and walks to her side of the bed, climbing between the covers and settling as far away from me as she can without falling off the bed. I reach over, turning the lamp off, and wait.

I might be an asshole, but I meant what I said. Nothing will be happening unless she begs for it. That doesn’t mean I won’t push her to that point. Though judging by the looks she's been giving me, it will be more like a gentle nudge.

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