Wreck You

by Jennifer Snyder

  “Okay.” I pushed myself up so that I was barely pressing any of my weight on her. “Did I do something wrong?” It was such a girl thing to say, but I couldn’t help asking.

  I’d never been one to push a girl farther than I knew she wanted. Even though all the signs Lauren had wanted it had been there, I knew I must have crossed a line at some point. I had to have, because she was stopping.

  “No.” She shook her head. “It’s not you; it’s me.”

  Worst line in history. Hands down.

  I moved to sit up, and watched as she did the same. She reached for her bra and shirt off the floor and quickly put them back on. Running a hand through my hair, I waited for her to give me an answer as to why she’d stopped, because I didn’t want to ask. I couldn’t.

  Her teeth sank into her bottom lip, and she dropped her gaze to the floor. “I…um, I can’t.”

  She fidgeted while still gazing at the flooring as though it were mesmerizing as shit. The cold hand of dread gripped my insides, trying to grab anything it could reach. What if she didn’t really want me like that? What if she didn’t feel the same incredibleness that I did when we kissed? Oh fuck, the what-ifs were going to eat me alive if she didn’t say something quickly.

  CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

  LAUREN

  My heartbeat grew sluggish as I continued to stare at the floor. The last time I’d stopped a guy from having sex with me I was fifteen. I’d only stopped him for a few minutes before he talked me into doing the dirty with him anyway, but this time would be different. Much different. Ian wasn’t the type to talk a girl into anything. I could tell. And even if he was, it wouldn’t work, because I wasn’t in a position where I could follow through with this. I’d decided to turn a new leaf and I’d meant it. I truly needed to stick with it this time. I was tired of being a booty call. Why the hell hadn’t I put a lid on my stupid flirting for the night?

  Because Ian was incredibly sexy, that’s why.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked. The level of concern in his voice surprised me.

  I placed my hands over my face and took a deep breath. He deserved an answer—like right now—because I was sure I was scaring him to death.

  “I can’t go through with this. Even though I really want to, I just can’t.” I peeked at him through my splayed fingers. “I’m sorry.”

  A dumbfounded expression crossed his face. I knew I’d given him no reason to believe I didn’t want to have sex with him tonight. I’d been an incredible tease. What the hell was wrong with me?

  “For what?” he asked. “I mean, it’s fine, really. You’ve already said you weren’t ready to jump into anything with anyone. I should have respected that a little more. I’m sorry.”

  Ian smiled at me before reaching for his shirt on the floor and standing to put it on. I hated to see him cover up his abs of glory, but it was for the best. Temptation could be a torturous bitch. It was better to avoid seeing him half-dressed. I could control myself better then.

  “Refill?” he asked, nodding to my glass.

  I handed it to him. “Sure, thanks.”

  And just like that, the awkwardness of putting the brakes on having sex and not wanting to be in a relationship disappeared. There was no mention of blue balls or annoyed glances tossed in my direction, and absolutely no huffing or puffing. It was as though nothing had ever been started between us. I was mystified. Either he was the toughest man I’d ever witnessed not be able to finish properly, or else all the others were freaking babies when it came to that.

  When Ian walked back into the living room, there was a nearly overflowing glass of wine in one hand and two beers in his other.

  “Careful,” he said as he handed me my glass.

  “Wow, um, thanks.” I took it from him and put it straight to my lips for a sip.

  “I’ve got Netflix. Let’s find a movie to watch.” He set his extra beers on the coffee table and picked up the one he’d set down earlier, before leaning back on the couch and propping his feet up in front of him. “Grab the remote over there. You can scroll through and find something for us.”

  I reached for the remote with an ear-to-ear grin spread across my face. This guy was amazing. I’d never been so at ease after a mortifying moment before. Dear God, when I did decide to give him some, I was going to rock his freaking world because of this moment.

  “What type of movies do you like?” I asked.

  “Anything.”

  Rolling my eyes, I took another sip of my wine. I hated when people did that whole passive-aggressive thing. If I ask you a question, you better give me a real fucking answer. “I like zombie movies, are you down with watching one?”

  He cocked his head to the side and glared at me with a wickedly sexy smile that was so not helping dampen my already heightened libido. “I think we might have found the one thing we have in common. I fucking love zombie flicks. I’m actually a Walking Dead diehard.”

  “No way! Me too!” I slapped my thigh and nearly spilled the glass of wine I was holding. “All right, zombie movie it is.”

  When the list of movies came up, World War Z caught my eye. It was probably the only zombie movie ever created I had yet to see.

  “Yay or nay?” I crinkled my nose as I asked.

  “Brad Pitt produced movie, I don’t know.” Ian shrugged his shoulders.

  “If you freaking say you haven’t watched it yet because of that reason, I’m going to kiss you.”

  “Pucker up, then.” He laughed. “I just don’t know how good something could be if he’s produced it. I think actors should stick to just that, acting. Let everyone else do the rest of it. It’s sort of narcissistic of him to me, like he’s saying just being in a movie isn’t enough anymore, that he’s better than that and needs more hands in it. I feel the same way about Angelina Jolie and her bee movie, or whatever the hell it was she wrote, directed, and produced too.”

  Without thinking, I gave him a few soft pecks on the lips. The desire to open my mouth and turn this simple kiss into something a little more advanced surged through me at the contact with his lips, but I forced it down. I needed to learn how to take things slowly.

  Pulling away, I leaned back and eyed him. “I know exactly what you mean, but what’s the verdict? Are we watching it?”

  Ian licked his lips, and I noticed the same lust that had clouded his eyes moments ago swirl through them once more from my slight kissing action.

  “Sure.” He smiled. “We can pick it apart together.”

  Maybe he had more devilish qualities hidden beneath the surface than I thought. I liked the idea of it.

  “Exactly what I planned on doing.”

  * * * *

  The movie lasted a little over an hour, and surprisingly it wasn’t as bad as we’d anticipated. I was sold as soon as I realized the zombies were fast moving. Ian on the other hand was ticked about that, stating numerous times he preferred his zombies to be slow moving.

  “No way, it’s more suspenseful and heart-pounding when you have to worry about the people being able to outrun them,” I insisted.

  We were still sitting on his couch. My wine was long gone and so were his beers, but we didn’t move to gather refills.

  Ian shook his head. “No, the slow-moving ones are classic. It’s more of a classic horror vibe if they don’t have super speed. Super speed is cheating.”

  “Slow-moving zombies aren’t even a threat. A person could get away easily,” I countered.

  “That’s what they want you to think.” He waved a finger in my face, and I grinned, loving this conversation.

  “Whatever.” I rolled my eyes. “Fast-moving zombies rock. Slow-moving zombies are boring. There’s no real element of surprise there. You don’t even have to have two legs to be able to outrun the slow ones.”

  “Okay, if you’re watching a movie or whatever, then fast moving are more suspenseful, but if you’re going to have to live in a world with them, then slow moving.” He stood and carried his empty beer bo
ttles into the kitchen. “At least there’s time to strategize about what your next move is going to be, and it would be easier to survive.”

  “I can agree to that.” I scooped up my wineglass, and followed him into the kitchen.

  Rinsing the glass out in the sink, I waited for him to ask me the inevitable—if I was ready to head home yet. The answer was no, not even a little, but when my eyes flicked to the clock on the wall, I knew I needed to. We both had to work tomorrow, and it was already after eleven. This was another moment when the reality of being a grown-up sucked.

  “If it were to ever happen, what do you think it would be from?” he asked.

  “What?” I wasn’t sure what he meant.

  “The zombie apocalypse. What do you think is the most feasible cause you’ve ever heard?” He slipped on his shoes and started grabbing his keys, wallet, and phone off the counter.

  Maybe the awkward question of whether I was ready to head home was going to be bypassed. If so—and if this was how he was choosing to do it—I was impressed.

  “Hmm, I have to think for a minute.” I slipped my sandals on and made sure I had my purse before heading to the front door. Ian gave Mojito some loving before following behind me, while flipping off lights as he went. “I’d have to say a food-based thing.”

  “A food-based thing? What like it’s the preservatives and fillers in our food altering our DNA, and we don’t know it’s happening type thing?” He locked the door behind him and twirled his keys while eyeing me.

  “That’s an interesting theory, but no. I mean like some sort of wicked sickness or mold or something that starts with one animal and then moves to another, sort of the way the flu virus moves through us. The animals are infected and sick, but we don’t know it, and by the time they’re butchered and sitting on the shelves of our stores, it’s too late. People buy it and eat the meat and then they get sick, but not truly sick. They just turn into zombies.” I opened the passenger door to his truck and slipped inside. “I watched a movie like that once, but I can’t remember the name of it. It wasn’t about zombies, just a sickness that spread like wildfire. I still remember thinking how that would be a great way to spread a zombie virus.”

  Ian closed his door and cranked the engine. “I get that. I can see it happening. It getting in the water supply somehow would be a good one, too.”

  “Totally. Was just getting ready to say that!” I smiled. “All right, that’s mine, so what’s yours?”

  “I think my answer would have to be—” He backed out of his driveway and shifted into drive before answering. “—some sort of government thing, like it was a weapon to use during war or something and it got out.”

  “Like Resident Evil?” I grinned.

  “Hell yeah, like Resident Evil. That movie was badass.” He turned at the end of his street, and headed in the direction of Norhurst. “But my theory would be without the fast-moving zombies, and they wouldn’t mutate into some alien thing either.”

  “So are you some sort of conspiracy theorist?”

  He shook his head. “Not in the least, it’s just my theory, but I don’t think we know even a fraction of what the government creates.”

  I leaned my head against the headrest, thinking of how I couldn’t agree more with his last statement, while at the same time I was amazed that we were even having this conversation. We were having a conversation about zombie apocalypses, and it was the most engaging discussion I’d had with a guy in forever. Life was good.

  CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

  IAN

  As the days went by, Lauren and I spent more time together and—in my eyes—became exactly what I wanted us to be—a couple. We hadn’t put an exact label on it, but I wasn’t seeing anyone else, and I didn’t think she was either. The middle grade conversation of “do you want to go out with me” never came up once, and at this point, I didn’t think it ever would. I’d decided once you were an adult and dating, those conversations were taboo. My guess was that you sort of just drifted, as if you were lost at sea, into the category of being a couple without ever truly taking note. While that wasn’t necessarily the way it worked for me, I felt as though it might be the way things worked for Lauren. I was fine with that though.

  “Who are you texting?” my mom asked with a smile mirroring the one on my face.

  I finished the sentence I’d been tapping out and hit send before cramming my phone back into my pocket. “No one.”

  “Must be someone,” Mom said as she scooped more mashed potatoes onto her plate, her eyes never leaving mine. “Because you don’t smile like that when it’s someone you view as a nobody on the other end. I’ll tell you that.”

  “It’s no one, Mom,” I insisted, but my smile was still all wrong. No one would have believed me, not even a complete stranger.

  “Are you seeing someone?” Aubrey asked as she passed me the bowl of steamed green beans, minus the butter we all used to douse them in. I took them from her, but didn’t answer. “You are, aren’t you?”

  Damn, I could never get away with anything in this house. There were no secrets between the Masons. It was like an unwritten rule or something.

  “Uncle Ian has a girlfriend. Uncle Ian has a girlfriend,” my niece and nephew chanted in a singsong voice. It was unclear who had started it, but it was crystal clear how much they were both enjoying it.

  I smirked at them and cocked my head to the side. “Really? Is that necessary?”

  They were eight and five, of course it was. Why had I even wasted the breath to ask?

  “Uh-huh,” my niece insisted.

  “Oh, is it that cute girl you met in the Amish section of Harrison’s?” Cassie asked. Her voice was somewhere between a shout and a screech. You would have thought she’d just figured out a question on Jeopardy that had us all stumped. “The one you were all gaga over?”

  “What girl from the Amish section? When did you get to meet her?” Aubrey questioned her.

  “When we went to the store together after Dad’s incident, I told Ian to head to the Amish section and see if there were any healthy snacks he thought Dad might like. We were supposed to meet back up at the checkout lane, but he took forever. When I went to find out what was taking him so long, I spotted him talking with this pretty girl in the cheese section. What was her name?” Cassie’s face scrunched up as she struggled to remember Lauren’s name.

  “Lauren,” I offered. Instantly, every set of eyes at the table was on me, and my mother and sisters were smiling at me like morons. “What? You couldn’t remember her name, so I told you.” I shrugged and popped another forkful of the rosemary meatloaf Cassie had made into my mouth. I wasn’t even sure it was real meat, but it did have some flavor.

  “You should have just stayed quiet.” Dad elbowed me in the arm. “They would have dropped it eventually.”

  “Lauren, that was her name.” Cassie smiled.

  “When do we get to meet this Lauren of yours?” Mom asked. She interlaced her fingers beneath her chin and stared at me over the top of them. “Next Sunday?”

  “Uh, I don’t—” I started, but she cut me off.

  “Okay, next Sunday it is. I can’t wait to meet her,” Mom said. She’d practically had an entire conversation with herself in all of two seconds. I hated when she did that.

  My heart sank to my toes. How the hell had that happened?

  “What? No,” I said. Mom raised an eyebrow at me, and I swallowed hard, knowing to go up against her with something like this was futile. “I haven’t had a chance to ask her yet, so don’t go making any plans. I don’t even know if we’re at that point yet either, you know?”

  “You are,” Mom said with ease. She picked her fork up and stabbed at her green beans. “I can tell from the smile you get when you receive a text from her. Think about her for a minute and I bet you’ll prove me right.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean? This isn’t some Disney movie, Mom,” I muttered. Not wanting to believe what she was hinting at. There was no
way I was even close to being near that four-lettered word she was speaking of in a roundabout way.

  “It sure would be cool if it was a Disney movie,” Tasha, my niece, said with a wistful smile. “Then you’d have a true love’s kiss.”

  She was missing her two front teeth, so when she said “love,” it made a hissing sound that brought a smile to my face.

  “See and there’s your confirmation, Mom.” Aubrey jumped right on in, pointing at my smile.

  “Oh my God, are we all like five here?” I rolled my eyes and set my fork down.

  “I am,” Toby, my nephew, said. “That’s a whole hand!”

  Everyone laughed, including me. Picking my fork back up, I moved the little bit of food left on my plate around. My cell chimed, making my heart lurch to my throat. Damn it, and here I’d thought we were finally going to be able to move past this Lauren and me topic.

  I continued eating, feeling as though my family was watching me from the corners of their eyes, waiting for me to pull my phone out. It chimed again. The desire to read her message had to be satisfied. I couldn’t wait any longer. Mom cleared her throat, acting as though her point had been proven, as I reached in my pocket.

  “I’ll ask her later and see if she has any plans, okay?” I muttered.

  “Okay.” Mom smiled. It was a victorious smile. She’d won and she knew it.

  Reading Lauren’s message, I typed out a quick response, and then crammed my phone into my pocket.

  “So, you ready for me to take the shop crap off your hands again?” Dad asked. I knew he was attempting to change the subject, and I couldn’t be more grateful for it.

  He’d gotten the all-clear to go back to work from his doctor earlier in the week, and you would have thought he’d won the damn lottery. He joked he was tired of being under my mother’s microscope, but we all knew it was more along the lines of how he’d never taken a day off from work besides Christmas or Thanksgiving that we could remember. He was a workaholic, my father. Even when he was snotting all over the place and could hardly breathe between coughs, he would still go to work. Being cooped up in the house all day, eating health food and walking on the treadmill, had to be like some form of hell to him.