I had been alone for so long that it was strange to have somebody else in my camper—in my shower—as I cleaned up the remnants of treating Jason’s wound. My gaze was occasionally drawn to the bathroom door as I dumped the soiled towels into my small laundry basket to clean later. Every step was shadowed by Carrot, the shepherd’s nose bumping against my palm and thighs as she tailed me around the small space.

Her presence eased the worry that I might have made a mistake in showing a stranger to my home. With the mess cleaned, I knelt down to pay more attention to the dog, running my fingers through her fur and grimacing at the layer of grime. She needed a bath just as sorely as her master, and I couldn’t help my smile as I imagined the dog clean and fluffy. 

“You’re a pretty pup,” I murmured, rubbing her ears to feel the fine, soft fur there.

She gave a low woof, her tail wagging in quiet thumps against the furniture. It was a happy rhythm that warmed my heart. 

Getting to my feet, I paced to the pantry shelves by the door, rifling through cans and packages to find something that would make a suitable dog treat. My fingers paused against a can, snorting softly as I remembered Jason’s defensive expression, and took down the carrots to find the can opener.

I was offering the first treat to the eager dog when the bathroom door opened, and we both froze, Jason’s presence suddenly looming. 

Guilt nagged at me as I wondered if the man would take offense to me feeding his dog, but I couldn’t bring myself to retract the offer as Carrot stared at her owner with her tail wagging rapidly—waiting for permission to take the slice of vegetable between my fingers. 

My gaze snapped to his sea glass eyes, seeing them narrow as they dropped to my open palm. He raised a dark brow, making me swallow as I searched his expression. 

It only took a moment to realize how different he looked; his time in the shower clearly spent on grooming among other things. He was clean shaven, his strong jaw tight and revealing a long scar that carried almost to his high cheekbones. His hair was combed and shorter; still dark—almost black with the damp—and streaked with threads of gray. 

My eyes carried down his thick throat to his strong, broad shoulders, realizing he wasn’t wearing a shirt. He was all hard muscle, his chest and flat sculpted abdomen covered with dark hair and gruesome scars. Silver dog tags glistened against the dark hair of his chest, holding my gaze for a moment. When my stare dropped to his hips, seeing he was only wearing one of my plush black towels, I finally looked away, my face flushed as I focussed on the treat. 

My pulse was racing in my ears, my mouth suddenly dry as I tried not to be too obvious about how taken aback I had been; I had expected him to be clean, but the man before me seemed entirely different than the hulking, threatening stranger who had slammed me against a wall. I couldn’t drag my gaze up, concentrating intensely on Carrot’s soft, huffing whines as she got impatient. 

It was a relief when I heard the man smirk, his tone calm and adoring as he muttered, “Alright girl. You deserve it.” 

There was a soft, happy bark before the dog quickly lapped up the treat from my palm, her tail wagging as she licked over my hand and then sat back to stare at me as if she expected more. She was a balm on my nerves, bringing the easy smile back to my face. 

It allowed me to look up again, carefully focusing on Jason’s face rather than the distraction of his toned chest. “I should have asked, but…you said she liked them,” I said with a slight shrug, reaching for the can to give Carrot another treat. “How do you feel? Ready for a good rest?” I nodded toward the sofa as I felt the shepherd’s whiskers tickle my palm, her mouth soft against my skin as she carefully took her vegetables from me. 

Jason scoffed as he walked past me, barefoot as he headed toward his abandoned bag and muttered, “Soon as I get dressed.” I didn’t look up as I heard his bag unzip before there was a rustle of clothing and the sound of the towel dropping to the ground. 

My mind went blank, my face hot as I gave the dog my undivided attention, replacing the small chunks of carrots in my hand to keep my eyes on her. 

There was a heavy sigh, followed by the sound of Jason resuming his seat at the dinette booth before he asked, “You sure you’re alright letting me stay? You already patched me up real good. I’d say we’re even if you want to call it.” 

I risked a glance up, relieved to find Jason fully dressed in dark wash jeans and a black v-neck. 

“I already said I won’t kick you out to sleep on the streets tonight,” I muttered, blinking in shock when I reached into the can to find only water at my fingertips. I cleared my throat, placing the can on the stovetop and smirking at Carrot’s soft whine as she stared at it with rapt attention. “And not just for your sake. You bled all the way here,” I reminded him, softening my tone so it didn’t sound like an accusation, “And you were right when you said those things could follow us back. It’d give me some peace of mind knowing you’re here.” I shuddered as I remembered Jason pushing me behind him, the ring of gunfire in my ears as he stopped that creature in its tracks. 

Jason gave a soft grunt, looking at the small arsenal of firearms and ammo he had on the table and at his feet. He seemed more relaxed as he leaned against the dining surface, scanning over the narrow living space before staring at me with an analytical look. “How have you survived this long on your own?” he asked, gesturing to a bright cushion as he stated with a mocking tone, “I mean, I wasn’t kidding when I said this place looked like a catalog. Seems untouched by the apocalypse—like living in a bubble. You clearly leave this place to scavenge…” He folded his arms across his chest, his biceps bulging slightly at the tension. “So, what exactly is your secret?” 

“I’ve gotten very good at running away,” I answered. My tone was light, but my brow furrowed as I looked down at my feet. “Honestly, I’m very lucky to have made it this far. Having someplace so safe to come back to, and learning where to hide… as long as I’m fast enough, I don’t have to fight them.” My throat felt tight as I avoided the hard truth…that one day, that probably wouldn’t be enough anymore. 

Jason nodded slowly, unfolding his arms as he pressed a hand to his side where I’d treated his wound. He let out a sharp breath as if it still hurt, but he didn’t mention the pain or discomfort. Instead, his next words caught me off guard. “You know, I was surprised to see how steady your hands were when you stitched me up. You said you worked at that clinic, so I guess you’re used to it some, but it’s a rare gift to have hands that solid…” The compliment was genuine, clearly a skill he held in high regard. He glanced at his pistols on the table, his eyes swiping back to meet my gaze as he asked, “You ever fired a gun?”