Flesh (Flesh 1)

“Our first date?”

He gave a one-shoulder shrug, face careful y bland, but the lines around his eyes remained tight, sharply embedded. “You get the drift.”

His big hand hung there in the space between them. In many ways, she would be trusting her life to that handshake. Not a

“throw

caution to the wind ”, idle sort of undertaking. Al of this felt weighty, and she had no crystal ball to tell if he was good or bad, right or wrong. She had no way of knowing since the world had gone so spectacularly to shit.

Moments passed and the hand did not so much as waver. He waited her out with absolute patience. As signs went, it wasn’t bad.

“Alright.” She held her hand out, and he covered it with both of his.

“Daniel Cross, forty-one, single.” He paused and gave her a wary glance, turned his face aside. “Divorced actually, a long time ago.

Let’s not discuss it. I’m a mechanic, or, I was. I’ve been travelling down the coast for the last six weeks, looking for survivors. Your turn.”

“Ah, okay. Ali Jameson, thirty-two, was a secretary. I lived in one of the townhouses next door.” Done. She shut her mouth and shuffled her feet. Ignored the tingling going up her arm entirely.

“Single?”

She gave another nod.

“Keep going,” he encouraged.

“Well …” What to say? Thinking back on it, her accomplishments were few. Best stick to the fresh stuff, what little of it was air-able.

“Mary, the old lady that lived here, she got sick and asked if I would stay with her. She didn’t have much family. Mine were all down south.” Her voice wound down to a whisper, and he nodded in understanding. “There was no way out. Things went bad fast. People just …”

“Yeah, I know. There wasn’t as much military up north and what there was, was spread thin. But still, the streets were insane. You did the right thing keeping your head down.”

She said nothing.

His smile widened, all enthused once more. It made her stomach flip with nerves. “Okay, this is good. We’re getting somewhere. Tell me, Ali, did you have time to turn and run when you first saw me? You know the neighborhood well, don’t you? You’re one cunning babe. With a decent head start you could have lost me easily, I think. So why am I here?”

Ali’s breath stopped, stuck somewhere in her throat. She hadn’t seen it coming. She tugged on her captured hand, and his fingers tightened infinitesimally. “I did try to get away. It didn’t work. You’re very determined,” she muttered hoarsely.

Daniel skewed his lips, took his time. “I know you tried. You were scared. Here’s the thing though … I don’t think you want to be alone any more than I do. Some part of you chose to face me, to take a chance that I would be a good guy, that I wouldn’t hurt you.”

“Are you a good guy?”

“Mostly. Define ‘good’.” The side of his mouth curled up and his gaze slid over her, making all of her tingle this time. Not good. First dates always made her feel awkward, stupid. This one blew them all to smithereens.

“For instance, do you mean am I good at certain things, or am I a good person? Because both are valid in their own way,” he said.

“And as for being a good person, just because my thoughts are impure doesn’t mean my actions would be. Mostly, I manage to keep myself in check. But, with you, I’m a little overexcited. You might have noticed. You have, haven’t you? I think I’d given up on finding anyone alive and you … well, you exceed my wildest dreams.” He paused, stared at her for a moment, eyes intent.

Such blue eyes.

“But back to the question, I’ve been told I’m quite good at some things. I can give a demonstration if you like. You know, of things I might be good at. You could judge for yourself if you like. Do you like?” he asked.

She blinked.

“I’m babbling, aren’t I?”

“Somewhat.”

“You’re very kind.”

They smiled at each other. He had a nice smile.

It occurred to her then that, for a brief time, she had been okay. Fear had not ruled her mind. Panic had not owned her body. She was not cowering up in the sweltering heat of the attic, surrounded by dust and cobwebs, more frightened of the world outside than she was of the poisonous spiders sharing her space. For a few brief minutes she had been herself, holding a conversation even, albeit a rather odd one.

How perfectly, weirdly, normal.

“You okay? What are you thinking?” Daniel eased the grip on her hand, and she managed to draw it free. Stupidly, once back in her own possession, her fingers missed the firm, steady grip. “Not going to flip out on me again, are you?”

That was the question. She thought hard before answering.

“No. I don’t think so.” Ali rubbed her palm against her leg, wishing she could rub off the whole liking the hand-holding business.

It was the human comfort factor, no biggie. Without a doubt, she’d certainly been short on comfort. She might crave it, but she could live without it, as she had amply demonstrated over the past few months. The underdressed, oversized man standing in her bathroom eating her up with his eyes was entirely unnecessary for adequate levels of comfort. If only her fingers would stop quivering. If only she wore more than a towel.

“It’s okay if you need to flip a little. I can deal with it,” he said. Gentle fingers tucked a strand of wet hair behind her ear and then lingered for a moment before returning to his side. He had a way of moving into her personal space in the blink of an eye, before she even knew what was going on. Or, maybe he had never left and she had ceased to notice.

She’d acclimatized to his presence.

“You know, I kind of enjoyed you against me, not biting or anything. It was nice. I could get used to it. Shit, I really am babbling. I haven’t talked to anyone in weeks.” Daniel scrubbed a hand over his face then let it wander up to do the same to his choppy hair.

“Funny thing is, before al this, my favorite thing in the whole wide world was to be left alone to get things done. I hated conversation for no damn purpose, for politeness’s sake. Know what I mean?”

“Yeah,” she said, understanding perfectly. More often than not, opening her mouth meant saying the wrong thing and being frowned at or ridiculed. Alone was a thousand times simpler.

He stepped closer. She stepped back, her butt hitting the sink.

“So … Communal bathing? Too much, too soon?”