Heart of Fire- ON HOLD

VIII

Chapter Eight

After about 2 weeks of being stuck here together, Cade has kind of gotten the hint that I'm not going to open up to him any more than necessary. It's a rule of every good survivor: trust no one.

He's still the kind, understanding, positive guy he always is, but he's given up on trying to be best friends with me. He kind of just lets me do my own thing, and I don't really care what he does, so we get along great.

The storms have been getting really bad at night, and we've just made sleeping together in the tent a regular occurrence. It makes more sense, being out in the hall is being further away from the window, so the thunder isn't as loud and the lightning isn't as noticeable.

It has nothing to do with the fact that Cade is great with Emma and is gorgeous and makes me feel safe too.

Nope. Nothing to do with that.

We share a tent for convenience.

Emma has stopped sleeping in Cade's sleeping bag with him, not because he made her, but I think it's because she wants to prove that she's a big girl.

When she told Cade she was going to sleep in her own sleeping bag, he looked at me, an innocent smirk on his face and playful gleam in his eyes.

"Hear that Cami?" he asked, gesturing to the spot in the sleeping bag beside him, "Got an empty space with your name written all over it."

I threw a pillow at him and rolled over, "I'd rather dance naked into the acid rain."

I couldn't see his face, but I knew he was wearing that genuine smile that reached his eyes. I fell asleep that night to the sound of Cade's laughter and a stupid smile on my face.

But other than the occasional flirting on Cade's part (who for some reason is never deterred no matter how much malevolence I respond with), we get along pretty well.

One day I set up Tyler and Emma with some coloring books and they were keeping themselves entertained, so I went to work out. I was halfway through my regular arm routine when Cade stopped by. He was dressed in his workout gear, long black pants that tightened around the ankle and a tight black t-shirt that strained across his broad shoulders, showing off all that hard work he puts into his training.

He doesn't have any weapons on him that I can see, though he usually never wears them. He told me once that there was no point of keeping weapons on him in a Walmart during an acid rain storm, since Rotter attacks are rare and humans are all bundled up inside. Nevertheless, I still keep at least one gun on or near me at all times.

He leans on a nearby no longer functional treadmill, "Mind if I join you?"

I glance at him but don't stop doing my standing shoulder presses, "It's a free Walmart."

He laughs at me and goes to where he previously set up a punching up bag. He warms up with some cardio and I continue to ignore him, doing my own thing except now conscious that Cade is probably scrutinizing my form.

I feel more exposed working out for some reason. I'm not wearing my guns— they're sitting on the table within arm's reach from me— and I couldn't fit my knife in my running shoes. I'm wearing a tight tank top and leggings that end just below my knee, but that's not the reason I feel vulnerable.

I guess it's because he's witnessing how strong I am, and just how much stronger is he compared to me. I don't want anyone to think I'm weak, especially not him.