Playing the Odds: A Zombie Apocalypse Love Story by Mary Kate L

Author:Mary, Kate L.
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Twisted Press, LLC
Published: 2017-01-26T00:00:00+00:00

9

Cole

The sound of someone knocking on the door wakes me, and when I roll out of bed, it only takes a moment to realize I’m not where I’m supposed to be. I’m still in Alessa’s room.

She’s out cold, her soft snores somehow cute—God, what’s wrong with me?—and I do my best not to disturb her as I stumble through the darkness in search of my clothes.

I find my pants and pull them on without my boxer briefs, which seem to have disappeared. My shirt, too, is missing, but I know I can grab another one out of my own room. Another knock echoes through the darkness and Alessa rolls over. I pull the door open before she wakes, giving her one last look before I slip out into the hall.

Antonio glares at me. “Che cavolo. What did I say about my cousin?”

“Lay off,” I hiss as I head down the hall. “I’m not just fucking her, okay?”

“What?” He lets out deep snort. “You going to marry her now?”

“Marry her? What year is this and where the hell do you think we are? No, I’m not going to marry her, but I’m not just screwing her either.” I turn to face the big man, holding my ground even though I know he can do a lot of damage if he decides to beat the shit out of me right now. “I like her.”

Antonio lets out a second snort and I find myself flinching slightly when his hands clench into fists.

“Look,” I say, hoping to calm him down, “if I screw her over, you have my permission to beat the shit out of me. I won’t even put up a fight. Okay?”

“Promise?” Antonio’s right eye twitches.

Suddenly, I can picture him on the football field, waiting for the whistle to blow so he can tackle someone. I have no intention of letting that someone be me, though.

“Yeah,” I say firmly.

“Not like I need your permission,” he mutters, but he nods. He looks at least a little satisfied when he turns to head down the hall. “It’s been quiet, so I’m going to bed. I’m beat.”

“Night,” I say, heading to the bar.

He just grumbles something in Italian.

It’s after three in the morning and I know a glass of wine isn’t going to help keep me awake, but I can’t help it. All these bottles just sitting here, begging for someone to drink them, it would be a crime to ignore their wishes.

I’m barefoot and shirtless, but I don’t bother fixing that. I have my gun and that’s the important part. If anyone—or anything—pops up, I’ll be able to take care of things.

My glass of wine and I do a quick walk of the inn, but it’s silent and dark. After that I head back the way I came, passing the restaurant and bar, and then moving into the little gift shop. There isn’t a lot—most people who came here were just looking to buy wine—but there are glasses with the winery logo on them, as well as coasters, bottle stoppers, key chains, and various items.

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