Page 31 of Protected

But even that is not necessarily a big deal. He’s even done it before—a few days ago when he ate something that disagreed with him and had bathroom issues during the night.

There’s absolutely no way he could have known what I was doing earlier. No one could.

I’m relieved when he returns about five minutes later.

“Are you okay?” I ask him as he toes back off his shoes.

He turns on the lantern so I can see his signed response.Yes. Bathroom.

I let out a long breath, deeply relieved. “That’s what I figured. You’re not sick, are you?”

No. Okay. He flicks off the lantern and climbs back up to his bunk.

“That’s good. Good night.”

He drops a hand and taps the bedframe, which I understand as his response and acknowledgement of my words.

So it’s all okay. Not great, but okay.

And at least I didn’t give myself away.

11

Four weeks later,I’m riding behind Micah on an ATV and trying to get the flyaways from my braided ponytail to fly in the proper direction and not right across my face.

“What are you doing back there, girl?” Micah asks after a minute of my whipping my head weirdly back and forth to maneuver my hair without letting go of Micah’s firm body.

“Hair in my face,” I explain. “It needs to stay on the proper sides of my head, but it’s not cooperating.”

Micah chuckles and speeds up slightly to keep pace with Deck on a second ATV in front of us.

This morning, when we started off, I suggested riding with Micah because he’s not as big as Deck so there would be more room for me. It made sense, and no one objected. But the sharp look Deck aimed at me made it clear he knew I chose Micah so I wouldn’t have to be so close to him.

The past month hasn’t been a bad one. We’ve been able to stay at the house the whole time since there were so many provisions stocked up there, and I’ve felt relatively secure—which hasn’t been true since Impact.

My relationship with Deck isn’t like it used to be, but it’s not bad between us. We still get along. We still help each other out. He still sleeps on the bunk above me every night. I’ve managed to control my sexy thoughts better, so I haven’t had to take the edge off again like I did that one night. And I’m still teaching him sign language, although he only ever uses it with me.

But I always feel a little awkward about being too physically close to him, which is why I chose Micah to ride with today.

Micah is tall and strong, but he’s not as bulky as Deck. He’s good-looking and good-natured, and I like him better than anyone except Deck and Burgundy.

And it’s not troublesome to sit this closely behind him as we ride, wrapping my arms around his lean waist and occasionally pressing my face against his back.

I like him. He treats me like a sister, and I’m sure that’s how he views me.

It’s nice to feel close to someone in an entirely safe way.

Deck waves an arm, gesturing toward the right when the backwoods road we’re driving on forks. Micah follows, and about five minutes later we’re parking behind an abandoned drugstore.

One of the other guys found it yesterday on a scoutingtrip but didn’t have time to check it out for more than a minute since it was getting dark at that point. But he said there looked to be a lot to scavenge there, so the three of us have driven out this morning to collect anything useful we can find.

I’m stiff when Micah turns off the engine, so I stretch my back before I dismount. By the time I’ve done that, Deck has come over, extending a hand to help me as I swing my leg over the seat and straighten up.

I don’t pull my hand away even though the warmth of his big, strong grip sends little tremors through my body. If I jerk away from him, he’ll get all frustrated and upset and might start demanding answers again.

Things work better if we let that topic lie neglected.

Deck drops my hand before I start enjoying it too much. When Micah stands, I pull my small pistol out while the men get their rifles at the ready.

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