Page 63 of 10 Things I Hate About Zombies

‘Shit!’ Zoey had missed pinning her foot with a tent stake by a fraction of an inch. Maybe a comfy bed indoors was the way to go.

‘Buffy Summers you are not.’ Nick took her mallet from her. ‘You missed by a mile.’

‘I’ll aim better next time,’ promised Zoey. ‘Drive it right through.’

‘Are you all right, though?’ Nick knelt to check that she hadn’t actually nailed herself to the ground. As he looked up at her with those dark eyes, Zoey wanted to throw her arms around his neck and beg to be carried off into the sunset.

Well, minus the whole rabid-coyotes part.

‘I’m doing fine. Just one more to go.’ Zoey pointed at the last mound of fabric on the ground. She was torn: should she leverage her newly minted girlfriend status and ask to sleep inside on a soft bed somewhere devoid of mosquitoes? Or would that come with baggage and responsibilities she wasn’t sure she was willing to sign on for just yet?

‘Just so long as you promise not to stake it in a boggy field.’

‘Very funny,’ said Zoey. ‘And I’ll have you know, historically, a lot of good has come of ignoring men. Like women’s suffrage. And Nora Ephron movies.’

‘You’re absolutely right. But in this one particular case, which you know from personal, expensive experience, it’s good to listen to the owner of a property when he says Please don’t drive through the boggy field.’

Ugh, a handsome man who was right. Was there anything worse in the world?

‘No boggy fields,’ she promised, as she helped set up the last tent.

‘One moment while I get your room ready …’ Nick unzipped the tent door and tossed a few giant bags inside, then, climbing inside, zipped the door again.

‘I hate a late check-in,’ she called, although she was trying not to smile.

‘Did Nate die and make you the local hater of note?’ he called back, his voice muffled by the tent.

‘I’m the OG hater,’ said Zoey. ‘Although I prefer the term killjoy.’

‘I can see why that might appeal to a literary type like you.’ Nick unzipped the tent door, poking out his head to reveal a space that actually looked pretty cosy. Apparently the duffel bags had contained blankets and pillows. As well as glow-in-the-dark sticker stars, just like the ones from the slam-poetry night.

Zoey broke into a grin as she touched the softly glowing plastic. ‘You remembered.’

‘We’re sleeping under the stars twice over tonight,’ said Nick. ‘Plus, there’s an air mattress. It’s only a bit squeaky when you move around on it.’

He demonstrated, and Zoey raised an eyebrow.

‘Beds do exist, you know.’

‘But the house is all the way back there, through the marshy fields and the swishy grass and the squelchy mushrooms.’

‘What is this? A little-known verse from We’re Going on a Bear Hunt?’

‘Could be,’ said Nick. ‘Especially given the state we left the fence in. Who knows what’s out there: bears, coyotes, mountain lions, MLM salespeople, neighbours who want to know if you’ve heard the good word.’

‘Ugh, when you put it like that.’ Zoey shuddered. ‘I’m glad we’re safe here in this very thin tent.’

‘We do have Alice.’

Alice’s ears pricked, and Zoey leaned over her to stroke her soft head.

‘She really is the best girl,’ she said, as Alice snuffled at her hand.

When Zoey straightened, Nick was staring at her in a way that made the rest of the world slip away.

‘May I?’ he said, touching his fingers to the collar of her shirt. ‘Alice, close your eyes.’

Zoey nodded, and he deftly worked the buttons until her belly was bare. Tiny hairs rose in the light chill of the evening – and from the ache that started up inside her as he traced her skin with his rough fingertips.