Page 18 of My Undead Heart
“You presume to know me?Fine. But don’t assume I think the same as that cop. Dress however you want. I can tell you didn’t do it to get the attention of a man because you’ve been giving me the brushoff all day. But I know your type. You probably spend most of your life more emotionally satisfied from the characters in a book or movie than you do real life. That’s what all this is, right? Playing dress up. Being someone other than yourself for a few hours. How am I doing so far?”
Her jaw locks and her lips pull with a terrifying smile. I’ve only seen a look like that from one other woman before. My mother. When I was a child and really fucked something up. Right before I was about to be punished. “Ah, I see. And you’re one of those ...” She goads me on, daring me to interrupt but there’s no way in hell I’m playing into her hand.
Instead, I lift my brow and shrug with a bored challenge that says I don’t really care if she continues talking. I can already tell my indifference irritates the hell out of her and I don’t back down even when she opens her mouth again.
“Boring adults with no imagination. You probably spend your free time doing super important tasks, like paying bills, exercising, and preparing food.Wait!I do those things, too. You’re probably looking for a “real” girl. One who takes lots of side boob selfies to show off her fitness progress and inspire others. I actually feel sorry for you. I have fun with life. You probably don’t. I bet your lackluster performance in the bedroom disappoints as much as your conversation does.”
“Whoa!” Damn it. This chick has a mouth on her, and I don’t mean that in a complimentary way. As much as I don’t want to be, I’m already sucked into this argument, and my next words leave in a growl. “Don’t for one fucking second think you know anything about me, little girl.”
She quirks one eyebrow, a know-it-all smile graces her lips, and she leans back against the wall. “Not so fun to be looped in with stereotypes, is it?” A giggle escapes her lips.Played.That’s exactly how I feel. She’s a piece of work. Complicated. Maybe a little freaky, too. I’m intrigued, but I should walk away. I have no business starting anything with anyone right now. I can’t even make rent, let alone handle a woman like this. But still ...
“Hey, you ready?” Her friend from earlier walks over to join us as the two police cars pull away from the curb.
“Yeah.” she says to him before pinning me with those gorgeous spitfire eyes. “This was educational, but I’m going now.” She gives her friend the side eye and I can’t help but notice the way he’s blatantly checking me out. I’m not exactly sure how that makes me feel other than a little objectified and uncomfortable.
I mash my lips together and force myself to return her smile. “By all means.”
“I’d say I hope we bump into each other again, but my mother raised me not to lie.” She blinks and tilts her head sweetly. Her friend laughs and mutters something under his breath.
Even though I shouldn’t; even though she’s nothing but trouble, I can’t help but ask, “What’s your name?”
“It’s zombie girl to you, meathead.” Her smile only grows wider.
“Nice.” I roll my eyes. “Well, if you ever decide to break down your own biased stereotypes, I’ll be happy to enlighten you.”
“How generous.” She shakes her head.
“I like to give back,” I quip and it’s only for a split second, but I don’t miss how her breath catches at my words and the innuendo they hold.
“Fuck me,” her friend swears and grabs her by the hand. “Come on, Kitten. Let’s get you tucked into bed.” He meets my stare without any teasing or cheekiness this time. “Thanks for the save tonight, muscle man. I appreciate it.”
“It’s Matt. And you’re welcome. Need me to call a ride?”
“Nah, we’re taking the train home.”
“Be safe.” It bothers me that these two are walking back so late. Both intoxicated, well, at least she is, and without any form of defense. “I’m serious. Stay aware of your surroundings.” I reach into my back pocket and produce one of my business cards for the gym. I’m sure she’ll never call, for business or pleasure, but the need to protect her propels me to force the glossy card into her hand.
“What are you, my mother?” She rolls her eyes and examines the card in the dim lighting.
“A mixed martial arts instructor, actually. If you have any more problems with that guy, or want to learn how to protect yourself, give me a call.” She shakes her head at my concern and shoves the card into her handbag.
“It’s all good. I know karate!” her friend says and performs some weird infusion of hip hop dance meetsThe Karate Kid. She giggles and grabs his hand, pulling him with her to stagger away.
It’s stupid that I want to follow. At least to see them to the train. Their safety is not my responsibility and I need to get back inside.
Yet I stand there in a battle between my feet and my mind while I watch her ass sway further away until she turns the corner and disappears into the night. It’s as though I’ve been possessed, or bitten and turned into a lust sick fool. Like the zombie she is. Or is that a vampire? Damn it, I can’t even remember. I was never a fan of folklore or fantasy. Regardless, that sexy zombie has my heart pumping blood throughout my body in overdrive. It’s been far too long since I’ve felt the desire to pursue a woman. Too bad she walked away. Bad timing, anyway.
