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I wake up when Deck starts moving.

Even half-asleep, I can tell he’s trying to gently extricate himself from beneath my head without disturbing me, so I mumble, “I’m awake,” as I attempt to pry open my eyelids.

He starts positioning me so I’m lying back down with my head on the sleeping bag we found instead of his lap, but I resist his hands. Eventually he gives up and lets me sit.

It’s still dark in the building, but Deck has turned on a flashlight so I can see the darker shadows of the fallen shelves and his face dimly lit when I turn toward him.

He scowls and signs, Sleep as he points back toward the floor.

“I’m awake now,” I tell him. “I can’t just go back to sleep because you order me to. ”

I sound crabbier than I intend, so I give him a quick look from under my lashes. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to snap.”

He shrugs off my apology, clearly unfazed.

“Is it morning yet?” I ask, squinting toward the dark entrance as if that might give me a clue about the time of day.

I glance back to see his response. Almost .

By the time we’ve gotten up, organized ourselves, and walked outside, there’s some faint light from the rising sun. We wander until we find a small stream with enough water to do a half-assed morning washup.

We have no food left, but we spend thirty minutes searching the wreckage of the drugstore until we find some baked beans in a half-crushed can that’s still sealed. Deck pries it open, and we eat the beans at room temperature.

It’s better than nothing.

I’m tired and stiff and grumpy. It’s been more than a month now of sleeping in a real bed in a genuinely safe environment.

I’m not as used to tense, interrupted, insecure sleep as I used to be.

Deck acts normal. Silent. Efficient. Matter-of-fact.

And observant. But he’s not as relaxed as I’ve seen him lately either.

I don’t like this anymore. It’s safer and more familiar with Logan and the rest of the group. That feels as much like home as is possible anymore, and I want to get back there.

Micah and whoever he brings to get us won’t have left until first light, so we’ve got at least a couple of hours to wait. We return to our corner and sit side by side again, and I try to prepare to pass the tedious minutes until their arrival.

Deck reaches over to touch my arm to get my attention. Then signs, What’s wrong?

“Nothing,” I respond with a sigh, dropping my head back against the wall. “I just don’t like it here. I feel vulnerable. I want to get back with the others.” I keep my head turned to the side so I can see his response.

We’ve done well with communicating with sign language given my limited knowledge and the short time we’ve been practicing, but there’s still a lot Deck isn’t able to communicate with learned gestures. He taps his chest and then wraps one hand around his rifle with a frown.

“I know you’ll protect me. I know you’re not going to let anyone hurt me. But even you aren’t invulnerable, you know.”

His frown deepens like he wants to argue with that claim.

Unexpectedly, his expression makes me want to smile.

“I’m not casting aspersions on your strength or your manhood.

I just… I just don’t like being away from the others.

It… It makes me feel how I used to feel before I joined up with you.

At the time, I didn’t realize how traumatic it was when Hal and I were all alone and always hiding and scrounging to survive. ”

He moves his hand from his rifle to my thigh and leaves it there. Big and warm and comforting.

“I guess we just do what we have to do. No matter how hard. And don’t really think it all through until afterward.

And then Hal died, and I was all alone. And even then I just survived without realizing how hard it actually was.

But thinking back now… it was… terrible. Terrible . What I had to go through.”

He makes a couple of awkward gestures, signing no and now .

“Not anymore,” I say, verbalizing the sentiment he’s trying to express.

“I know. I’m not alone anymore.” I cover his much bigger hand on my thigh.

“I think that’s why I want to get back. I don’t want to feel even a little like that anymore.

” I give him a faint smile. “You and Logan and the others really saved me.”

He sits up straighter and turns to face me directly. He signs out no and now again and then spells out alone with his fingers. Then he taps his chest. And keeps tapping with increasing emphasis.

I must be emotionally stretched by the fear and tension of the night because my face contorts as I fight against a wave of emotion.

He may not want or be capable of speech anymore, but nothing could be clearer than what he’s telling me right now.

I’ll never be alone again.

Because he’s with me, and he always will be.

The emotion shudders through me until I’m able to contain it back into my heart where it belongs. I nod and manage to force out, “Same. Same here. With me. You’ll never be alone again either.”

He makes a rough sound in his throat—an actual sound—and pulls me into a hug. It’s strong and urgent and so tight it momentarily takes my breath, and it’s also a little awkward with both of us sitting on the floor.

But I love it. Need it. I hug him back with all I’m worth.

After a minute, Deck solves the awkwardness of our positions by pulling me into his lap and leaning against the wall as we hug. It’s better. More comfortable. More intimate.

Warmth and affection and pleasure and excitement all swell up inside me, overwhelming the small shiver of fear that also awakes from the knowledge of needing someone so completely in a world that never allows the good things to remain.

It’s a long time before Deck finally loosens his arms. He draws his head back and stares at me. I gaze back, hot and flushed and trembling in the expectation of what I can see in his eyes.

He cups my face with one of his huge hands. Waits a moment to see if I’ll pull away. When I don’t, he leans forward. Brushes my lips with his.

It feels so good—so much better than anything I can ever remember—that my body and my heart both lurch with need and ownership. He’s withdrawn his head so he can see my response, and I sway forward in his direction, closing the distance between our mouths to kiss him again.

This time it’s deeper. Longer. More intense. The first slide of his tongue into my mouth makes my pussy clench, and the arousal tightens and builds as he kisses me hungrily, rearranging my body so I’m straddling his lap.

Now our groins rub against each other. He’s already hard in his pants. I hold on to a handful of his beard as I open wider to his tongue, sliding mine out to get in on the action.

He’s a lot bigger than Hal. He feels and smells and is different. Everything about the kiss is new, and it’s heady and intoxicating. I eagerly try to suck down every sensation.

Deck slides his hands down to cup my bottom over my jeans. He holds me there, moving my hips in a rocking motion against the hard shape of his cock.

I’m so into it that I’m pretty sure I could come from simply this—this shameless, carnal humping motion—but a stray thought pierces the heated blur of my pleasure.

Logan’s voice. Asking me if I’ll be careful.

This is exactly what he was warning me about. What Deck and I are doing right now.

The sharp pang of fright is enough to interrupt the momentum of my arousal. I pull back abruptly.

Deck, still lost in the kiss, reaches out to draw me back again, but I choke out, “No. Deck, no.”

He freezes, flushed beneath his facial hair and his body visibly tense.

“We can’t.” I’m fighting against every instinct in my body to get the words spoken. “Deck, we can’t.”

He takes a shaky breath and blows it out. Then taps his forehead and lowers the same hand, making the shape of the letter Y with his fingers.

“Because—” It still feels like I’m going to gag on the words. I cough to clear my throat. “Because Logan said?— ”

I break off the explanation, changing my mind mid-sentence.

Deck rears up, using the letter L to indicate Logan as he asks, Logan said what?

“It doesn’t matter.” I’m about to burst into tears, so I start scrambling to my feet.

Deck stops me, pulling me back down. Logan said what? He forms each gesture emphatically as he scowls.

Tears are sliding down my face now, but I control myself enough to say, “He said it’s dangerous.

To have that kind of relationship with you.

Because sometimes they end bad. And then…

and then… one person has to leave.” I swipe tears away as they fall, pausing briefly to shake through a couple of silent sobs.

“And it won’t be you who’s leaving. It will be… it will be… me.”

Deck is signing urgently, but he’s too upset for it to be clear. I can’t interpret the specific words he’s trying to communicate, but I know what he means.

Logan is wrong.

He’s wrong, and what he told me is never going to happen.

“But we don’t know how things will go,” I say with that same sob in my voice.

“I know we think we can make it work and that we’re mature enough to manage if and when it ends, but we don’t know that.

It could be terrible. And I’m so sorry, Deck, but I don’t think I can make it on my own again.

Not after I’ve had it so much better with all of you.

It’s… it’s too much of a risk. I have to think about my own safety. No matter what I… I want. ”

He’s breathing hard and fast through his nose, staring at me. I honestly don’t know what he would have said.

He doesn’t have the chance because we hear a familiar voice calling just then from outside the building.

It’s Micah. He has arrived to rescue us.

Micah brought one of the pickups, and it doesn’t take us long to load all our supplies and wheel the ATV into the bed of the truck. Because I’m still really upset, I sit up in the cab with Micah, letting Deck stand guard in the back by himself.

It’s clear to me that Micah knows something is wrong, but he doesn’t ask about it. He keeps up steady, pleasant conversation as we drive back to the big house, and I feel better by the time we reach it.

Not good. I don’t feel good at all. But I’m resigned and in control.

I made the right decision, and I can see it through.

Logan and some of the others are tinkering with one of the Jeeps as we arrive and park near the house on the grass. A bunch of the others come over to greet us and see what we’ve brought.

Deck climbs out of the back of the truck, strides over to Logan with a scowl, and slugs him.

That evening, I climb into the lower bunk in the princess room and wait for Deck to come up from outside.

It’s been a weird, bewildering day, but I slept for a couple of hours in the afternoon, so I’m not as tired as I would have expected.

I’m jittery. Like something is about to happen that I desperately want and that I desperately fear at the exact same time.

Logan punched Deck back—likely an automatic instinct rather than a conscious decision—but then the whole thing was over.

I was astounded that first, Deck didn’t continue the fight this afternoon and that second, he didn’t get in trouble with Logan for lashing out.

Logan didn’t appear to even resent the blow.

They had a conversation later, but I wasn’t allowed to be part of it, so I have no idea what was communicated between them.

Afterward, everyone acted normal. Like nothing in the world had happened.

For some reason, this fact has made me even more jittery.

I don’t even know why.

When Deck finally walks into the room, he smells like soap more strongly than normal, and he’s carrying a pad of paper and pen. He kneels down beside my bed and starts to write something out.

I watch him in the light of the lantern I kept on, once again experiencing that odd swell of ownership at the sight of his big face, rumpled beard, and intelligent brown eyes .

I wait until he’s finished writing. Then read what he wrote.

I told Logan he’s not allowed to kick you out unless you break the rules.

I lick my lips. “I know you say that now, but we don’t know how we’ll feel later on. I mean, what if things go bad between us?—”

No! He makes the sign dramatically, shaking his head at the same time. No! He grabs the pad to write out, What kind of man do you think I am? I wouldn’t let you be put in danger like that no matter what happens.

I take a couple of deep breaths as I read his messy handwriting. Inside, I know what he’s saying is true.

Of course Deck isn’t like that. Of course Deck would never let that happen. Nothing that might occur between us could ever change the man he is.

“Okay,” I manage to say. “I believe you.”

He peers at me intently for a minute. Then writes, You never have to worry about that happening.

“Okay,” I choke out. “Thank you.”

We stare at each other for a moment. Deck is still kneeling next to my bunk, and I’m propped up under the covers.

Then he nods and withdraws, starting to stand with a reluctant expression.

It’s then—only then—that I know what all the jittery excitement inside me has been telling me all day.

“Wait!” I say, grabbing for him and catching a handful of his shirt .

He lowers himself back down to my level with a question on his face.

“If you mean it,” I say. “If you really mean it, then I’m not afraid anymore.”

Deck freezes, only his eyes searching my face with growing heat.

“If you think we can keep it casual, if you think we can keep it from turning into an emotional mess that will cause problems in the larger group, then… Can we…” When my voice catches, I start again. “Can we go back to where we stopped this morning?”

His answer is evident—hotly thrilling—on Deck’s face as he climbs into the little princess bunk on top of me.