Page 56 of Uprising

Reed slowly relaxes, his hand resting against my bare back.

“She was my best friend,” he whispers.

“I bet she was lovely.”

“She was.” His voice is weak with emotion. “She would’ve loved you.”

A chuckle against him. “I doubt that. I talk too much, I’m a brat and I?—”

Suddenly Reed is cupping my cheeks, brushing his thumb against my bottom lip.

“Don’t ever doubt yourself, love; you’re stronger than you think.”

I smile, fighting against the urge to argue with him. If only he knew the strong one here was him.

CHAPTER32

Noah

Over the next week, we both fall into some sort of routine. He is always the first to wake up and check the property. I wasn’t used to waking up at six in the morning anymore, not that I missed it. I sort of have enjoyed not going to class anymore. Not that I like having zombies try to kill me every second. It’s been nice not being sucked in by social media, going to class, or having to deal with my father texting me that he wants me to change my major.

It’s been oddly relaxing. The only thing that I found myself missing was my friends. The consistent reminder that I should be heading to Florida. I told them it was safe; it’s the only place that the zombies wouldn’t be able to reach. But the idea of leaving Reed behind in this cabin brings a different kind of sadness. I can’t imagine not seeing him every day. Not being able to see his brows furrow as I spit out random facts. Or when I ask him a question that comes from left field.

I want to ask him if he’ll come along. We don’t have to stay; just go there and find my friends.If they made it.I refuse to even let that thought stay in my head. They had to have made it. I wouldn't think of anything else. I wouldn’t think of Rue being out there on her own because she doesn’t trust anyone. And I wouldn’t think of Mallory being hurt because she’s too trusting.

All thoughts leave my mind when the door to the bedroom creaks open. A dim glow of light shines through before Reed enters.

“You’re awake,” he mutters, surprised. When he got up this morning, I tried to go back to sleep, but my mind wouldn’t shut off.

“Yeah, I, uh, couldn't go back to sleep.”

And now I definitely can’t go back to sleep. Not after seeing him. Somehow the thick flannel does things to me. The entire time I’ve known him he’s always in black jeans and a black long sleeve. But this is different; the worn light blue jeans and the flannel remind me of a mountain man.

“Come along with me.” Reed crosses the room to his dresser and begins pulling out another flannel.

“Wait, what?” I sit up, clenching the blanket to my chest.

“If you can’t sleep, come with me to check around the property. It’ll probably be good anyways,” he says, tossing a flannel and socks towards me. They land in my lap, sitting there begging to be put on. But the idea of wandering around outside doesn’t settle well with me.

“I… are you sure I can’t do something here?” I nearly squeak. Reed can handle himself out there, better than me at least.

Reed crosses his arms over his chest and leans against the dresser. A sudden warmth spreads through my chest, my heart aching, but in the most beautiful kind of way. How did I get so lucky? How did Reed, this infuriating person, become mine?

“Are we dating?” I blurt out. The realization that Reed has confessed a few loveable remarks about me but we never declared if we were an item. I’m not even sure if he would want to date me. It’s not like we can go to the movies or even go on a physical date. But I like the idea of Reed being my boyfriend. What I don’t like is the way his brows furrow just slightly, his lips part like he’s going to say something, but he doesn’t. I can see the gears turning in his head, the weight of his thoughts settling in his eyes right before mine. My heart speeds up faster, anticipation curling around my stomach. The air between us grows heavy with his unspoken words.

I open my mouth to beg him to forget I even asked when he pushes off from the dresser. Every footstep feels like an eternity before he’s leaning over, his face inches from mine.

“Do you want to date?” He asks.

I shrug, pulling the blanket further up my body until it’s against my neck. I’m not sure how to answer him. It feels foolish to even think about having a boyfriend. The world is ending. We have bigger fish to fry.

“I’ve never had one before.” I’m not sure why I told him that.

“Me neither.”

“It seems… the world is basically ending; it feels weird to be thinking about dating.”

“And yet here we are,” he mutters.

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