Dating After the End of the World - 31

Tessa trails behind as I race to catch up with Blake outside. My face is hot to the touch, and my breath is labored from throwing on my clothes and sprinting after Blake before he can make it to Nate. But I’m too late. Out front, Nate stands in a circle with half my family surrounding him. Dad, Aunt Julie, and Elaine are full of smiles. JJ and Uncle Jimmy wear neutral expressions, as though they’re still assessing what to make of this new arrival. Blake enters the circle with his chin raised and eyes slightly tapered.

“Better get over there before your boyfriends meet,” Tessa says with a chuckle.

I whip my head toward her. “They’re not my boyfriends. Well, I guess Nate is my fiancé. But Blake . . . I’m not sure what we are. Even less so now.”

“Enemies with benefits,” she teases.

“Stop.” I crack a small smile and lightly shove her. She’s wrong about one part—I no longer view him as the enemy. The boy I was able to find something amazing in all those years ago finally came back to me, and it only took the world ending for it to happen. But just as we acknowledged our feelings for one another in the most intimate way possible . . . a wrench was thrown into our rekindling.

My gaze goes back to Nate and Blake, standing across from one another. Nate’s back is to me, but even so, I can see he’s clearly been through hell. His clothes are stained, full of filth. The skin on his arms and the back of his neck are covered in either more filth or scrapes and bruises. He’s lost weight, mainly muscle, and his hair’s cut short, which is just as surprising as his sudden appearance here, since his hair has always been his most prized possession.

I notice Dad’s lips are moving as he gestures to Blake and then to Nate, clearly introducing them. Nate, none the wiser, extends a hand. If he knew what Blake did to me with that hand this morning, he’d for sure be throwing a fist instead. A jolt of electricity flashes through my body just thinking about it. I shake away the thought and blow out a gust of air, readying myself to face this head-on.

Tessa slaps a hand on my shoulder, startling me. “You might want to go and run interference before Blake and Nate get to talking about their common interests—you know, things or people they like to do.” She raises a brow, grinning.

“Oh God.”

I immediately start off toward them, almost in a daze, because I still can’t believe Nate’s here. This is all too much, and I’m worried about what Blake may say or do. I take several deep breaths as I walk, trying to calm myself. I’ve just gotta play it cool, and then I’ve gotta figure out what the hell happened back in the city.

Blake’s gaze veers around Nate, locking onto me as I approach. He wears an expression that’s both sultry and brooding, like he’s upset but he doesn’t want to be. I can barely look at him, yet I also can’t look away.

Seemingly sensing my presence or noticing that Blake’s fixated on something behind him, Nate twists his head, glancing over his shoulder. I can’t believe he’s alive and that he made it all the way here. I thought he was dead, and I’m honestly so glad he’s not. Even if he did ditch me, I would never want that for him. Nate’s mouth parts at the sight of me. I smile, my lips moving and twitching in all directions, as I’m not sure what reaction I’m supposed to have, especially with Blake watching. While I’m happy to see the man who got down on one knee and asked me to marry him, my body is still yearning for the touch of someone else. Nate turns on his heel and takes off in a sprint toward me. He doesn’t stop until I’m wrapped up in his arms and my feet are lifting off the ground.

“I can’t believe it,” he says. “I missed you so much.” He kisses the side of my head through his words and squeezes me tight, like he’s afraid I’ll slip—or pull—away.

Although I’m wrapped in Nate’s embrace, my eyes are on Blake, who stands fifteen yards away wearing a pained expression. I don’t tell Nate I missed him too. I can’t bring myself to say it because I didn’t, not with how he left. But maybe I was wrong. Maybe I should have missed him.

“What happened?” I whisper.

“What do you mean?”

“Nate . . . you ditched me. You left me behind.” My voice cracks.

He lets go of me, allowing my feet to touch the earth again. He takes a step back, his hands resting on my shoulders and eyes frantically searching mine like he’s looking for something he thought was long gone.

“No, Casey, I would never.” Nate adamantly shakes his head. “I went through hell trying to get to you.”

His hands cup my face so I’m forced to look at him, forced to take in his appearance. Bruises in various hues from yellows to purples stretch across his neck. His left eye is black and blue, and up close, I can see how jagged his hair is, cut longer in some places and shorter in others, like he clipped it in the dark with a pair of rusty scissors. He’s clearly not lying about going through hell to get to me, but what happened before that? Why’d he run, and why didn’t he wait for me? That’s what I need to know.

“But you left me, and then I couldn’t find you,” I say, trying to maintain my strength.

“No, you have it all wrong. Yes, I ran, but I did that so they would chase after me. I figured they would, but they didn’t. By the time I realized they weren’t following me, I was already outside, so I went to the Porsche like we always talked about, and I waited for you. But then I heard more of them closing in on me, so I hopped in my car and drove around the block, staying out of sight until the coast was clear. When I came back, you were gone. I even went up to the apartment to check, and then I stayed in the area for days looking for you until I remembered your truck. I didn’t know where it was parked, but I figured you had to have made it to it. And the only place you’d go outside the city was here.” Nate brushes a finger across my cheek. “When I was a hundred percent certain you weren’t in Chicago anymore, I came looking for you, praying, wishing, hoping you would be here.” He folds his lips in, blinking several times. “And you were.” Nate lets his head fall forward momentarily before lifting it. “All the horrible things I went through in order to get to you . . .” He looks at me with a fixed gaze, a sheen coating his eyes. “I would do them all again, because I love you so much, Casey.”

I stare into the eyes of the man who didn’t give up on me, didn’t abandon me, and even risked his own life to make sure I was safe. What I thought was Nate fleeing at the first sign of trouble, ditching me to save his own ass, was actually him trying to protect me. I was the one who abandoned him, left him sick with worry as he searched for me. He fought his way out of Chicago all the way up here in the middle of nowhere Wisconsin, while I was content, enjoying safety and shelter. I even slept with someone else because I thought Nate had left me. How could I have done that? What kind of person does that make me? I feel so guilty, so sick to my stomach. I’m the bad guy in all this, not him.

Nate leans in and plants a hard kiss on my lips, his hands raking through my hair. My heart feels unsteady, as though it doesn’t know where it belongs. It’s breaking and mending at the same time. It breaks for Blake, but part of it feels like it’s being restored, healed. I kiss Nate back, forcing pressure and movement through my lips, only enough for him not to ask any questions about what I’ve been up to.

“Nate,” Blake calls out.

Startled, I pull away and wipe at my mouth. My dad and Blake approach, stopping a few feet from us.

Nate turns to face him, thrusting his jaw forward. “It’s Dr. Warner.”

“Right,” Blake says, curling his upper lip. “We should talk sleeping arrangements since it appears you’ll be staying.” He narrows his eyes ever so slightly, but I notice it, and I also notice when they flick to me.

“Yes, that’s the plan.” Nate nods. He reaches for my hand and smiles as he threads his fingers through mine.

In response, Blake huffs through his nose, making his nostrils flare.

“Good,” my dad cuts in. “So I’m sure you noticed from the little tour I gave you that space is tight. Right now, Blake and Casey are sharing a room. But I was thinking”—Dad splats a hand on Blake’s shoulder—“that you’d probably want to move to another room now that Nate’s here. The dummy house is heated, so we can make arrangements there.”

Blake’s eyes tighten. “I’m perfectly fine staying in Casey’s room.”

Dad lowers his voice, talking through the side of his mouth. “I was suggesting it so they could have some privacy.”

“That’s very kind of you, Dale,” Nate says. “And that would be lovely.”

Blake clenches his jaw.

“No, Blake should stay,” I interrupt, quickly glancing at him. I notice the corner of his lips perk up, his eyes brighten a shade, and he relaxes the muscles in his face.

Nate’s brows shove together, and I know he’s about to argue with me, so I continue before he can get a word in.

“Blake’s still recovering from a bite, so he should be comfortable and around other people, in case there’s . . . any complications. You never know, especially with a virus this novel, how differently people can react to it, even when it seems to have run its course,” I say, pulling the words completely out of my ass. I don’t want to hurt Blake, but I also don’t want to hurt Nate. However, I know someone’s eventually going to get hurt. In the meantime, I just need to smooth things over, until I can figure out what to do with the two of them.

Despite the look of suspicion on Nate’s face (because he is a doctor, after all) and his eyes darting between Blake and me, he simply nods, most likely not having the energy to argue and not wanting to ruffle any feathers. Blake softly smiles, though it fades just as fast as it appeared, like lightning flashing across the sky.

“All right then,” my dad says, clasping his hands together. “We’ll table this until Blake is feeling one hundred percent.”

Blake doesn’t move or give my dad any sort of reaction. He just stands there staring at me, but I can’t fully meet his gaze. Maybe it’s the guilt I feel from learning that Nate didn’t ditch me at all. Or maybe it’s because I don’t trust myself to only look at him.

Dad pats Nate on the shoulder. “It looks like you could use a hot shower and a warm meal, son.”

“That’s exactly what I could use.” Nate grins.

Blake’s Adam’s apple slowly rocks up and down the length of his neck, like he’s being forced to consume something he doesn’t want to. I get it. Life is sometimes hard to swallow.

Closing my bedroom door behind me, I let out a heavy sigh before turning to face Nate in more ways than one. Immediately, his lips are pressed hard against mine, hungry for another kiss. He wastes no time, his hands finding their way to my breasts, squeezing them, then sliding down my lower back and grabbing my ass. His fingers slip between my skin and the waistband of my pants. Even though I’m kissing Nate, all I can think about is Blake. I pull away, breathless, looking everywhere but at him.

“What? What’s wrong?” he asks, confusion taking over his face.

My mouth parts slightly to answer him, but no words come out, because I don’t know which ones I should tell him. If I had known Nate never intended to ditch me, that he only ran to lure the burners away so I could escape, then Blake and I would have never happened. But I didn’t, and I didn’t realize he was out there risking his life trying to get here to me. Knowing that changes everything. I mean, it has to. We were engaged. We had planned to spend forever together. We were working so hard to build a life that we would one day be able to live in. Honestly, it’s a miracle Nate made it to me, and it feels weird to throw that away. But for some reason, I can’t go right back to the way things were with Nate. I need time to get over Blake before I can be with my fiancé again . . . I just can’t tell Nate that’s the reason I’m pushing him away.

I inhale through my nose, nearly gagging on the smell of decay and rot Nate’s secreting. I’m not sure how I didn’t notice the odor before. The hair on his head, along with the new hair on his face, is caked in dried blood and grime. His skin is covered in the same, giving it a muddy color peppered with fresh scrapes and scabs that have crusted over.

“Casey,” he says, impatient for my response.

I scrunch up my nose and cover it with my hand. “It’s just . . . you smell really bad.”

He glances down at his clothes, covered in ten days of filth. Tugging on the collar of his T-shirt, he sniffs it and retches.

“Sorry,” he says. “Is there really a shower here?”

“There really is.” I smile.

“Oh, thank God.” Nate sighs with relief.

I pick up the stack of folded clothes from my bed and extend it toward him. “Here. They’re my dad’s. Bathroom’s at the end of the hall.” I hold the door open for him and gesture to the left. “Towels and washcloths are beneath the sink.”

Nate nods and leaves the room, pausing once to glance over his shoulder. He waggles his brows. “Want to join me?”

“Oh, I would, but we’re not supposed to waste water,” I say awkwardly.

“Right.” He tilts his head. “Maybe when I get back then.” He winks and continues on, looking back at me once more when he turns to shut the bathroom door.

With him out of sight, I let the tension in my face melt away, allowing my smile to fade. I close my bedroom door behind me and sigh with relief because I’m finally alone, and maybe—just maybe—I’ll be able to think this through. My eyes land on Blake’s perfectly made bed, and I can’t help but imagine him and me in it, so I avert my gaze to my own bed. But it’s not mine anymore; it’s mine and Nate’s, and I’m not sure how I feel about that. I know how I should feel, but knowing those feelings and having those feelings are two very different things.

I close my eyes, wishing I could just forget about this morning, wipe it completely from my brain. I was with Nate for two years. We lived together. We were engaged, and Blake wasn’t even a factor. Once in a while, Blake would cross my mind, but the only thought I’d have about him was I hope he’s suffering. Or I’d use the image of him as motivation to get through something really tough—like passing the MCAT, interviewing for residency, dealing with a difficult patient. My spite for Blake was highly motivating.

But that’s not the case anymore. He’s lodged in my brain—the same way food and sleep and oxygen are, wired into it as a need, not a want. I don’t know how that happened in such a short time. I didn’t think it was possible. Somehow, the hours I spent loving Blake are just as significant as the years I spent loving Nate. Then again, maybe that’s all this is supposed to be, powerful and fleeting, a reminder that love doesn’t have to be forever to be real.

My eyes spring open at the sound of my bedroom door creaking. I whip around to find Blake closing it behind him. Neither of us says a word. I mean, what really is there to say. I can’t tell him what he wants to hear, and there’s nothing he can say that would change my mind. My heart . . . he doesn’t have to change that, because he has it—at least for right now. But I learned to love him, and I’ll learn to unlove him too.

Without warning, Blake crosses the room, and his hands cup the sides of my face as he pulls me in for a kiss. Not just any kiss. It’s the kind you get lost in even though you know your way. It’s the kind that awakens every part of you, even though you feel like you’re in a dream. And it’s the kind you thank God for, even if you don’t believe he exists.

As much as I want this, I know I shouldn’t.

“I can’t,” I say, withdrawing from him.

Blake’s mouth barely parts, his lips still swollen from our kiss. A look of betrayal washes over him like I’ve stabbed him in the back or, better yet, the heart.

“What do you mean, you can’t?” His eyes frantically search mine.

“Nate’s here.”

That should be the end of it, but I know it won’t be because it doesn’t feel like a good enough reason—not with how fast my heart is beating or the way it’s pumping blood to every part of me he’s touched.

His brows shove together, and he recoils his head. “So, that means we’re done?”

“Did we really ever start, Blake?”

He looks away, unable to answer the question that pained me to even ask in the first place. Two years versus a few hours . . . that’s what I keep reminding myself. Time. Because that’s what matters. It’s all we have until we don’t have it anymore. Blake had all the time in the world to be with me. He just waited until the world ended, and even then, it was only because he had no other choice. Nate chose me, whereas Blake chose me after every other choice was made for him.

“Tell me you don’t love me.”

It’s not a demand. It’s a challenge, one I’m not up for.

“No,” I say, blinking away the brewing tears.

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t wanna lie to you.”

In an instant, his lips are on mine again, begging and pleading for me to tell him the truth.

“I want you so bad, Casey. And not right now—forever,” he says in between breaths.

“Blake, stop.” I pull away again, even though not a single part of me wants to.

“Stop what?” he says breathless.

“Stop making this so hard.”

“If it’s hard for you to tell me this is over, then you know it’s not the right decision.”

“I don’t know that, and neither do you.”

He takes a step toward me, grazing a finger across my cheek. “Without you, my world ends.”

“The world already ended, Blake.”

“Only for a little bit, until you came back into it.”

Without warning, tears fall. They’re too fast and too sudden for me to stop them. Before I can speak, the bedroom door is opening. Blake and I separate from one another. He walks to his dresser, pretending to rummage through it, while I wipe away the tears.

“Training starts in twenty minutes,” Blake says.

I turn to find Nate standing in the center of the room with a towel wrapped around his waist, his eyes darting between the two of us.

“What’s training?” Nate asks, slightly squinting.

I blink away the rest of the tears, hoping he doesn’t notice.

“Combat training, buddy.” Blake smirks. “And everyone has to do it.”