Page 51 of My Undead Heart

It’s D-day. The dreaded date. It could go wrong in so many ways, but more than likely it’ll only be another lackluster afternoon. I like Matt, I really do, but after today I’m prepared for that feeling to go away. Not that it’s personal. No, it’s just what generally happens after I date someone. That or I sleep with the guy, and that cannot happen. I won’t allow it.

Not wanting to overthink or invite unwanted advances, I dress in my favorite worn jeans and a bright blue sweater, and go with my black leather boots and jacket. The last two have more to do with the fact I’ll be riding the hog; might as well be in style. Not sure what else I’ll need, I tuck my ID, credit card, and a twenty into the back pocket of my jeans, along with my cell. I refuse to wear a ton of makeup, but I do indulge in a red lipstick that almost matches the deep red dye of my current hair color.

Taking the elevator down a few minutes before two, I wait for Matt just outside my building. It’s a beautiful early October afternoon. The sun is out, the clouds are at bay, and even though I need a jacket, it seems everyone in downtown Chicago has decided to venture outside their homes to enjoy a few hours of good weather.

I hear the engine before he turns the corner. Sliding a pair of shades over my eyes to shield against the sun’s glare, I only have to wait a few more minutes before Matt’s bike comes into view. God, he’s sexy on that death trap. He’s just the kind of man my mother always warned me to stay away from, and I absolutely hate the fact that makes him hotter. Or that I find him attractive to begin with. I shake my head and brace myself for whatever today’s date holds. I’m a strong woman. I can handle it.

Matt pulls up to the curb between two cars and pulls off his helmet. He notices me with a lift of his brows and ghost of a smile. I push off the wall outside my complex and take my time walking toward him. I have never run toward a man and won’t start today.

“I would have come in,” he says.

“It’s okay.” I reach for his helmet but he shakes his head.

“Nope. Not anymore. Here.” He opens one of those compartments on his bike and pulls out another helmet to hand me.

I take it and put it on. “I hope you didn’t buy this for me.” He’s being safe and thoughtful but it only seems presumptuous. He won’t last four dates. I know this. Besides, what if I don’t want to ride bitch on his motorcycle anymore.

“Who the hell else would it be for?” He only laughs and then revs the engine before sliding his helmet back on. “Ready?”

Instead of shouting my reply I fasten the chin strap and climb on back. There’s one great thing about riding this way: no lame small talk. Grabbing his waist, I hold tight as he backs out onto the road and guns it. The rumble of the engine is a soothing melody and for a few minutes I forget what I’m doing or where we’re going. It’s peaceful. That is, until I remember we’re on a date. Watching my surroundings, I try to guess exactly where he’s taking me. He seems extra cocky that I’ll like it, which only magnifies my doubts.

Oh God, he’s nearing the art institute, along with every other touristy spot along Michigan Avenue. Rae has dragged me to enough art shows over the years to last a lifetime. While I appreciate the effort of the artists, it’s just not my thing. Not unless we’re talking comics and graphic novels.

He zooms past the Buckingham Fountain, and I swear if he takes me to that fucking bean I’ll jump off this stupid bike and walk all the way home. Thankfully, he pulls to a stop and parks far enough away from that thing I feel we’re safe.

His expression is lit with excitement as he takes my helmet and stores it along with his own. “You ready?”

“I don’t know. Where are we going?” I ask with a forced sweetness.

“Trust me, Mia.” he says and of its own accord my body flushes, remembering vividly the last time he asked me to trust him. “Come on.” He grabs my hand and starts walking so I have to either yank it away or follow his lead. Morbid curiosity propels my feet forward.

“I’m not sure if you’ve ever done this before, because, well, I don’t really know much about you, but it looked like a lot of fun. Plus, ya know ...” He stops short in front of the Fine Arts Building and that’s when I read the sign.

TRAPPED IN A ROOM WITH A ZOMBIE

“Oh no, you didn’t.” Pure awe and shock ooze through my mind, because how could he know? I’ve been begging Jared for months to go to one of these with me. Escape room, Zombie edition.

“If you don’t like it we can do something else.” Matt meets my stare with a weak smile and squeezes my hand. I realize I’m still holding on to him. “But my vote is we give it a try.”

Pulling my hand back into my personal space, I let my guard down and give in to the smile I’ve been fighting since his big reveal. “No fucking way! I’m sorry. It’s just ... I’ve beendyingto do this.”

His grin grows and a chuckle leaves his lips. “Thank God! You had me worried there for a second. I put a lot of thought into today.”

“You sure you didn’t get any inside help?” I tilt my head and study his response.

His expression is stone-cold when he crosses his heart with his finger. “Swear it. Now. Let’s go solve some puzzles.” We walk the final steps and Matt holds open the door like a gentleman.

Before I enter the building I stop to let him in on a little Mia quality that doesn’t always win friends. “I have to warn you, as much as being eaten by a zombie sounds fascinating, I am incredibly competitive. Like, if we don’t beat this thing I’ll probably demand you take me home afterward.”

Matt’s smile only widens. “Good. Because I only compete to win. Let’s kick some ass.”

Matt wasn’t joking. I guess as a fighter he knows what it takes to win, but while I usually try to contain my competitive nature, it’s pointless with a teammate like him. We’ve already passed through nineteen different clues and puzzles. Smoked past the group of twenty somethings by the third one. They met their unfortunate fate by zombie bite within the first twenty minutes.Young’uns. We were neck and neck with the other couples until about two puzzles ago. Now it’s down to the wire. Ten minutes left on the clock and it’s between us and one other couple. Oh, and a zombie five minutes from being unchained. There’s still plenty of time, but we didn’t come this far for runner-up. We also still haven’t found the key.

“It’s got to be in here somewhere.” Matt flings ledgers from a filing cabinet onto the metal desk while I riffle through the drawers. The other couple is clear across the room scouring a bookcase. Our last clue read,

You’ll find the key

Between red and black

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