blinked at the message.
“Yes…” I whispered.
The dots started bouncing again.
Jason: Your turn. What’s your question?
I was glad he was changing the subject. I didn’t want to talk about this. I thought about my question and decided I’d have a little fun with it.
Sloan: How would you survive a zombie apocalypse?
The dots jumped for several minutes. Then a text pinged, but just three words came through.
Jason: I’m calling you.
The phone rang.
“Well?” I said, answering without saying hello.
“My answer is too long to text.”
“You’ve given the zombie apocalypse that much thought, huh?”
“Haven’t you? It’s a serious situation,” he said sternly.
“Only a matter of time, really.”
I could tell he was smiling when he continued speaking. “Survival is all about going where there’s the least threat of other humans and zombies. We’d have to get to somewhere remote.”
“We?”
“You and me.”
“How do you know that I’m qualified to be on your zombie apocalypse survival team?”
“Are you?”
I scoffed. “Of course. But you didn’t know that. Do you always give out important jobs to people without checking their qualifications? It seems to be a thing with you.” I pulled a blanket over Tucker and me and grabbed my iced coffee, snuggling deeper into the sofa.
“You’re right. Totally right. Admission into my survival compound is contingent upon a satisfactory comprehensive interview, illustration of survival skills, and a thorough physical. I’ll be conducting the physical personally.”
I laughed, hard.
“Okay, so provided I’ve passed all of your tests, we’d be holed up in a rural—what? Cabin?” I asked, putting the straw to my lips, still smiling.
“Yes, on my property in northern Minnesota where we could live off the land until things blow over.”
I raised my eyebrows. “Live off the land? Do you know how?”
“Did you think Tucker was just a pretty face?”
“You hunt? With Tucker?” I looked down at him. Brandon would have loved a hunting dog.
The phone shuffled, and Jason was quiet for a moment. “Check your phone.”
A picture came through of Tucker wearing a life jacket at the bow of a small fishing boat on a choppy-looking lake. A shotgun rested against the boat bench, and a gray, cloudy sky loomed behind him.
Jason wasn’t in the picture, and I felt a pang of disappointment. Then I felt disappointment in myself. I had become some sort of voyeur over this beautiful man.
It felt strange to be attracted to someone and even weirder to be attracted to someone I’d never met before. I hadn’t really noticed another man since Brandon died. It kind of felt like cheating.
“And do you cook this meat that you kill?” I asked.
“The meat is eaten,” he said, sounding somewhat evasive.
“You give it to your mom,” I deadpanned.
He laughed. “She’s an excellent cook. There’s no shame in giving it to my mom.”
“So you hunt. You’re familiar with firearms. You’ve got a bunker in the woods. You do seem like a good candidate for zompoc survival,” I allowed. “I might join your team. Not sure how I’d feel about holing up in northern Minnesota in the winter, though.”
“You’d be surprised at how warm the cabin gets once the fire gets going. And we could always share body heat.”
I arched my eyebrows. “You are awfully flirty for a man who’s never seen me before. What if I’m hideous?”
“So you object to me flirting with you based solely on your personality?”
He had me there. “And what if I have a boyfriend?”
“Do you?”
I smirked. “That sounds like a question for tomorrow’s round of truth or picture.”
“Come on, you’re not going to give me one freebie? It’s a simple yes or no. Shouldn’t I know if Tucker is spending time with another man?”
I snorted. “Really? You’re going to make this about Tucker?”
“I just think we should discuss it if my dog is going to be around an unfamiliar male influence. I don’t want to confuse him,” he said in a mock-serious tone.
I rolled my eyes and laughed. “No, I don’t have a boyfriend.”
“All right. See? How hard was that? I’m single too. Now we can move on. So what makes you qualified to be on my zombie survival team?”
“Where are you?” I asked. “Don’t you have a job? Aren’t I keeping you from something important?”
“Are you avoiding the question? Is it possible that you’ve oversold your ability to survive a zombie apocalypse? It feels like you’re sidestepping. Answer the interview question, please.”
God, he was fun.
“Oh, I’m qualified, believe me. I just wondered how you have so much time for phone calls during your fancy filming-on-location work trip.”
“It’s only eight a.m. here. I