Chapter 28: We're not going to talk about it?
Nate woke to the quiet weight of Skylar pressed firmly against him. Not tentatively, not by accident, she was wrapped around him like he was the only warm thing left in the world. Her leg hooked over his hip, her arm draped across his ribs, her cheek resting in the warm hollow of his chest.
And his arm wasn't just around her.
It was holding her.
Tightly.
Protectively.
The closeness felt… natural. Too natural.
Skylar stirred, her breath brushing his skin as she slowly blinked awake. Her fingers flexed against his chest as if trying to hold onto whatever dream she had been having. When she lifted her head and realized how tightly they were tangled together, her cheeks flushed but she didn't pull away.
Neither did he.
For a moment there was only the warmth between them, the quiet, steady rise and fall of their breathing. Not the chaos outside. Not the hunger. Not the danger.
Just… this.
Then Nate spoke.
"Skylar," he murmured, voice a low rumble beneath her cheek.
She tensed instantly.
He angled his head down. "We have to get going…"
She didn't answer.
"I know you're awake," he said quietly.
She didn't move.
He took a slow breath, voice sharpening. "Skylar… "
Reluctantly, she shifted so they were face to face under the blanket. Her eyes were still wet from last night, lashes clumped slightly, the kind of exhaustion you don't sleep off.
"What's going on?" he asked, not angry, just direct, cutting through excuses before they formed.
She swallowed. "I don't know how to act around you anymore. I look at you and I feel like I'm doing something wrong. And last night… I can't tell what you're thinking. I don't want to mess this up."
"This?" he asked.
She nodded weakly.
And for a moment he just looked at her, really looked the way a man looks at someone he's been trying not to care about but already does.
"You're not messing anything up," he said quietly. "But this world doesn't give us space to fall apart. Not today."
She curled closer on instinct, forehead pressing to his chest again.
He let her. His hand slid to the small of her back, steadying her.
They stayed like that for another long moment, too comfortable, too intimate, too much like a couple waking up from something good, not desperate.
But survival waited.
And he felt it closing in again.
Nate exhaled, then gently untangled himself from her and swung his legs off the bed.
The shift was immediate, warmth to cold, softness to duty.
He pulled on his pants, vest, boots, and gloves with the silent, efficient movements of someone who had done this too many times to count.
Skylar sat up, blanket around her shoulders, watching him with a conflicted expression.
"We're not going to talk about it?" she asked quietly.
"Not this morning," he said, fastening the straps on his vest.
"Nate… we acted like a couple all night. We…"
"We acted like two people trying to survive," he cut in, not harsh but firm. "And we did what we did knowing damn well what it meant. That's enough talking about it."
Her mouth tightened. "It's important."
"So is living," he answered. "We go north today. It's going to be dangerous. I need my head clear."
He didn't wait for her response. His focus shifted automatically to weapons.
He reached up and took down the M110 sniper rifle. Checked the bolt. The firing pin. The scope alignment. He handled it like an extension of himself, then set it back where it belonged.
From the top of the fridge he grabbed the M4, inspecting the barrel, the foregrip, the magazine seating. He adjusted the sights and tested the trigger tension.
Behind him, Skylar spoke again, frustrated.
"So we're just pretending nothing happened?"
"We're pretending we don't have the luxury to deal with it right now," he said, still checking the rifle.
"That sounds like pretending."
"That sounds like survival."
He slid the M4's magazine in with a clean, decisive click.
Then he packed the essentials:
• about a hundred rounds
• three grenades
• the last dried pork
• some few med supplies
• rope
• water filters
• map
All of it went into his military pack with practiced precision.
"Get ready," he said as he slung the pack over his shoulder. "We leave in twenty."
He stepped out into the cold morning air without waiting for her reply.
Skylar watched him from the doorway as he checked the traps, secured the perimeter, and scanned the tree line, moving with that focused, controlled energy that meant he'd locked whatever he felt behind iron walls.
She hugged the blanket closer around herself.
They were closer now than ever.
But the world outside didn't care.
Skylar stayed on the edge of the bed long after Nate had stepped outside. The room still held his warmth, his scent, the quiet reminder of how close they had been just a few minutes ago. Her fingers brushed the sheet where he'd slept, tracing the lingering imprint of his body.
It made her chest tighten.
She pulled the blanket around herself tighter as thoughts she wasn't prepared for began creeping in, uninvited, intrusive, impossible to ignore.
What is this?
Why do I feel like this?
She'd been with men before, too many, if she was honest with herself but none of them had ever left her with this strange, aching warmth under her ribs. Nothing like this slow pull toward him, like gravity had shifted inside her.
Back then, nothing meant anything.
Her life had been rough growing up, not dramatic enough for the movies, but hard in the real ways that quietly twist a person: parents always struggling, money always tight, affection always conditional. She learned early that people didn't care unless they wanted something, and men were no different.
Her boyfriends had been easy to categorize:
rich
fake
self-obsessed
bored
Half of them saw her as a prize, the other half as convenience. And if she was being honest, she'd played along, she hadn't cared about them either. It was transactional. A game she pretended she didn't hate. Something she did to feel like she wasn't fading into the background of her own life.
Even Pierce, her last boyfriend before the world fell apart, had been exactly that. Handsome, strong, rich, the supposed "leader type." Everyone admired him. Skylar had too, at first.
But admiration wasn't affection, and affection sure as hell wasn't love.
Pierce never asked her how she felt. Never listened. Never cared unless it served him. He wanted obedience, not companionship. And she'd given it because she didn't want to be alone. That was her mistake. That was her weakness then.
She knew… knew that idiot didn't give a shit about her.
But Nate…
Her breath caught.
She pressed a hand against her sternum as though she could slow her thoughts down physically.
Nate didn't try to charm her.
He didn't try to own her.
He didn't use her, even when he easily could have.
He treated her like a human, even when it annoyed… frustrated him.
He listened.
He taught.
He protected without demanding anything in return… almost.
Last night… being close to him hadn't felt cheap. It didn't give her that usual empty feeling inside of her when she slept with Pierce, Kaelen or even her old boyfriends. Even compared to their first time, when she basically threw herself at him.
It hadn't felt like survival or desperation.
It had felt real.
And that terrified her more than any ripper lurking in the treeline.
"Am I… actually falling for him?" she whispered into the empty room.
The silence didn't answer, but the tightness in her chest did.
Skylar slowly forced herself up from the bed, shaking off the remnants of sleep and tangled emotions. The cold air nipped at her skin as she let the blanket fall and reached for her clothes. Each piece felt heavier than normal, thick pants, thermal shirt, vest, gloves. Every layer was a reminder of what waited outside the cabin.
But dressing also grounded her.
She pulled her hair back into a loose tie, fingers moving slower than usual as she struggled with the quiet storm inside her.
At the dresser, she strapped on her thigh holster and slid her combat knife into it. She checked the edge against her thumb, still sharp. Still reliable.
Unlike her thoughts.
On the table rested her compound bow. She picked it up with both hands, the familiarity of it calming her heartbeat. The weapon was elegant, deadly, and unforgiving, everything she had forced herself to be in the months since the outbreak.
She inspected the limbs, tested the string tension, checked the arrows. All good.
Her quiver was propped against the wall. She slung it over her shoulder, feeling the weight of the arrows settle against her back. That part always reminded her she wasn't the same helpless girl she had been with Pierce or any of the others. She'd earned this skill. Nate had helped sharpen it, but she had done the work.
She grabbed her small pack next, stuffing the essentials:
• a few protein bars she brought from the compound
• jerky also from the compound
• a water bottle
• bandages
• the last piece of fruit from the counter
Then she looked around the cabin one last time. Not for danger, for him.
Her eyes lingered on the door he had walked through minutes earlier. Her chest tightened again.
Why him?
Why now?
Why was falling for someone suddenly her biggest weakness and her biggest comfort all at once?
She whispered his name under her breath, as if speaking it might help her understand.
"Nate…"
The feelings didn't go away.
They deepened.
She stepped outside into the cold morning. Nate was crouched near a tree, checking one of the traps with the same intense focus he used when cleaning a rifle.
He didn't look up.
Not at first.
But he felt her presence, she could tell, because his shoulders tensed slightly, then he glanced over only long enough to acknowledge her with a curt nod.
"Good. You're ready," he said, voice steady, professional, like last night and this morning hadn't tangled them in knots.
But Skylar now carried a truth she didn't know how to say.
And for the first time since the world fell apart, she wished danger wasn't waiting for them outside the treeline.
Because she wanted time.
She wanted clarity.
She wanted him.
[A/N: If you liked the book then dn't forget to leave a like and commen. Drop a power stone, it helps . If you're interested in this story you can now read 25 chapters ahead available on patreon.com/jacobperalta ]