“You can’t stop me!” Lucy shouted.

Matt carried another load to his car, and once again, packed it in the backseat. Something was up with his trunk. She refused to press him on it any further. Every attempt so far had shut him down. She wanted to let him keep his privacy. But this latest issue? He wasn’t getting his way. He said, “It’s my car, and you’re not coming with me.”

Lucy had adjusted to the flat calm of his voice, but right now it irritated her. She insisted, “I can help!”

Matt paused at her in the doorway. “How could you possibly help me infiltrate a cult of crazy alien fanatics? Besides, it’s too dangerous. They feed people they deem ‘unworthy’ to the monsters.” He passed her as he walked inside and picked up another crate.

Although that would deter a normal person, Lucy had a mission to complete. The very one he’d set her on while they waited outside Fair. She wanted to do some good in this world. “I’d make a great cult initiate. I’m pretty, disenfranchised, and alone in a desperate world. We could pose as siblings.”

Matt peered at her as he exited again. “I don’t think we’d convince anyone we’re siblings.” For a second, she thought he glanced at her lips. A little thrill caught her breath.

No, Lucy would not let him distract her. Blocking the doorway, she tried her best not to think about how well he’d filled out for baseball season.

Matt said, “Besides, there’s no way Xelan would go for it. He’s only risking me because I’m expendable.” As he approached the door Lucy was blocking for another haul, he said, “Please. Move.”

“You’re not leaving without me,” she reiterated for the thirtieth time since this morning.

Matt inhaled deeply through his nose. “I am giving you one more chance to move on your own.”

Talk like that used to make Lucy wince, but Matt was not Justin. He wouldn’t hurt her. She said, “I’m going.”

“Fine.” Matt blew the air out of his cheeks, and a weird glint shone in his dark brown eyes. It wasn’t anger. He took the last two steps toward Lucy as her heart pounded in her chest. None of it was from fear. When Matt put his hands under her arms to pick her up, Lucy fought the unfamiliar desire to wrap her legs around his waist. Slow down there, girl. Jesus, the apocalypse was playing with her hormones. He lifted her with one gentle movement, biceps bunching but no other signs of strain, and set her down against the open door. “Sorry,” he added.

Lucy wanted to fan herself. Flushed and a little erratic, she leaned back against the propped gray door as he walked inside. She needed the recovery time.

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About six steps in, Matt stopped and whirled around. He stomped back to Lucy and recharged the defibrillator on her heart. At first, she tried to convince herself he needed something from the car. But the intensity on his face, in his otherwise hollow eyes, told her the truth. He planted a hand on the door next to her head and put the other one on his hip. “Just why do you want to go with me, anyway?” His Arkansan accent had grown thicker. Lucy had hardly noticed it before.

It was a reasonable question, but when asked this close, it became very difficult to answer. Lucy detected a sandalwoods-y aftershave, and it suited him. Matt’s freckles kissed his pale skin and distracted her from her initial convictions.

Lucy tightened fist. She would not give into freckled cuteness. During her redemption journey through the apocalypse, she knew one thing for certain. “I only feel safe when I’m with you.” Deep inside, Lucy found the strength to maintain eye contact and refused to look away. She was a grown woman, dammit.

Matt searched her eyes, and Lucy fought not to squirm. “Why?” The severity of the question bruised her soul. He needed to know this.

Lucy’s eyes roamed to his hand on the door beside her face, down the length of his stout arm, across his broad chest straining against the standard-issue v-neck, up his pale freckled neck, and lingered on his soft rosy lips only a few centimeters from her own.

Matt’s breathing shifted from relaxed to shallow, matching hers. She swallowed a lump in her throat to make room to breathe before Lucy answered, “Because I trust you to keep me alive.”

Matt lifted her chin with a crooked finger until Lucy made eye contact. A mix of emotions pooled in his eyes: desire, curiosity, and something she didn’t recognize. He said, “If you go with me, I expect you to keep yourself alive.”

They inhaled and exhaled at the same time. Did they have the same heart rhythm, too? Lucy stared at him another long second and nodded.

Matt said, “I want to show you something.” He walked away so easily. How?

Lucy rested the back of her head on the door with her eyes closed. That was so intense. And so new.

Matt called, “You coming?”

Maybe. Lucy wouldn’t really know, but an orgasm couldn’t be too far from this. Right? She needed to ask the girls before she left.

Lucy groaned as she peeled herself from the door and made her way over the asphalt. Matt waited for her by the car. If she didn’t know any better, she might say he was nervous. To cut the tension, she asked, “What’re we looking at, boss?”

Without missing a beat, he said, “Don’t call me that, and I need you to have an open mind. I also need you to know who you think you’re trusting.” He walked to the trunk. Would he show her? Finally?! He used the key fob to pop it, and Lucy suppressed a squeal of delight. Closing his eyes, he opened it all the way. “You can look.” He peeled his eyes open and glued them to her.

Peering inside, Lucy’s mind couldn’t make sense of it at first. Like a puzzle, she understood individual, shocking components, but her brain refused to piece it together. Two kinds of hammers. No nails. A loaded nail gun. A mobile air-compressor to run the nail gun. A tire iron. Another machete. A twelve-inch Bowie knife. Four six-inch knives. A blow torch. A fully automatic M16. Plastic sheeting. Scoopable cat litter. Twine, three different varieties of rope, zip-ties, duct tape, handcuffs of the regular and fuzzy variety, hospital restraints, and actual heavy shackles. Four five-pound bags of lye. A pillow. Six containers of multi-colored glitter. Two flashlights. And some textbooks: calculus and art.

She planned to ask him more questions later. For now, she just wanted to ride this crazy train. “What’s the cat litter for?”

Lucy must’ve passed his test because Matt broke into a warm grin and said, “I’ll talk to Xelan.”