Chapter 423: What’s Wrong with you?

After Shannon blew out the candles, Carmen cut the cake while Shannon stood beside her, taking the job of putting slices onto plates far more seriously than she needed to.

"Careful," Carmen told her as Shannon tried to cut a piece twice the size of everyone else’s.

"That one is for Ryan," Shannon said.

"Why is his bigger?"

"Because he helped decorate."

"I helped decorate too," Maribel said from the table.

Shannon looked at the slice, then at Maribel.

"Fine. He gets a normal one."

Molly laughed from the sofa. "A very fair system."

The cake was passed around, and everyone found somewhere to sit. Molly took the armchair beside Carmen. Marlon stayed near the window with his plate in one hand, still positioned so he could see both the living room and part of the street through a gap in the curtain. Maribel sat at the end of the couch, while Summer stayed close to the kitchen doorway.

I took a seat on the other side of the sofa.

The first bite stopped me.

God.

The cake was actually good.

Not just good considering the ingredients were scavenged, the kitchen had no proper oven, and Carmen had made it using an old wood stove that looked like it belonged in a museum. It tasted like a real cake. Sweet, soft in the middle, warm from the stove, with a thin layer of cream over the top.

For a second, I forgot where I was.

I forgot the ruined streets outside. The boarded windows. The Infected. Callighan. Everything.

It had been so long since I ate something like this that the taste almost felt unreal.

"How is it, Ryan?" Carmen asked reaching me.

I looked up, still holding the fork.

"Really good," I said. "I’m honestly shocked."

She laughed, the sound easy and warm.

"Then take more if you want. And if that’s still not enough, bring me the ingredients sometime. I can make another one."

"I’m not going to turn your home into a bakery."

"You helped us a lot. I wouldn’t mind," she laughed.

"I only did what anyone would do."

Carmen rolled her eyes.

"Always so modest."

She stepped closer before I could answer, closing the space between us until the soft press of her body was impossible to ignore. I was seated; she was standing. The short-sleeved, knee-length dress she had worn for Shannon’s birthday shifted as she leaned in, the neckline dipping low enough that my eyes were dragged helplessly downward. The soft hollow of her collarbone, the dark-blue lace of her bra straining against the full weight of her breasts, the deep, inviting valley of her cleavage, every curve was suddenly right there, warm and close enough that I could almost feel the heat of her skin. The upper swells of her breasts rose and fell with her breathing, soft and heavy, and for a second I couldn’t look away.

I snapped my eyes shut hard.

What the fuck am I thinking?

Closing my eyes only made it worse. I became hyper-aware of the gentle brush of her thumb across my cheek, the faint heat of her body leaning over me, and the rich, mouthwatering scent of her perfume mixed with the warmer, more intimate smell of her skin. Every soft inch of her felt too close, too tempting.

"Here," she said, voice soft and amused. When I opened my eyes again she was smiling, having wiped a smear of cream from my skin.

"T...Thanks."

"You’re welcome." She chuckled and walked back toward Shannon, who was already lobbying for a second slice.

I stayed frozen on the couch for a moment, then lifted a hand to my forehead.

She had only been helping. That was all. Any normal person would have said thank you and gone straight back to eating. Instead I sat there with heat crawling under my skin over a touch that had lasted barely a second.

Acting like a creep, if not lusting over her.

I put my half-finished plate on the table.

"I will be back," I said.

Nobody stopped me. Shannon was busy trying to convince Carmen that birthday rules meant she deserved three slices. Molly was helping her argue the case, while Marlon looked like he regretted allowing himself to attend anything involving sugar and children.

I walked through the back of the house, opened the glass door, and stepped into the garden.

Cooler air touched my face.

The backyard was small, fenced in by warped wooden panels and a brick wall on one side. Carmen had managed to grow a few plants there too, though most were kept in old buckets and cracked pots. The distant sound of the Boardwalk reached me through the darkness: footsteps, a voice calling from farther down the street, the creak of someone moving a cart.

I closed the glass door behind me and stood still.

The heat under my skin had not gone away.

It had only gotten harder to ignore.

I dragged a hand across my face and moved farther into the garden, staying out of sight of the window as much as I could. Near the brick wall stood an old swinging bench with peeling white paint and faded cushions. One of its chains gave a quiet squeak when I lowered myself onto it.

The bench swayed under my weight.

I leaned back, breathed in slowly, and looked up.

The moon hung above the rooftops, bright enough to show the outlines of broken chimneys and the tangled branches from the neighboring yards. It was beautiful in a strange way. The world had gone to hell, people were hiding behind barricades and praying they did not hear the wrong sound outside, yet the moon still looked the same.

"What’s wrong with you?"

Oh no.

I turned my head.

Maribel stood a few feet away, watching me with a small frown. The red dress Carmen had given her looked even more noticeable beneath the moonlight. The fabric caught what little light reached the garden, and for half a second, my eyes stayed on her longer than they should have.

I looked away immediately.

"Nothing," I said. "Anyway, can you just leave me alone, please?"

"What?"

Her expression changed right away.

I could hear the upset in her voice, and I did not blame her. I had practically snapped at her for showing concern.

"It’s not like that," I said, rubbing the back of my neck. "I’m just having a hard time controlling myself. It has to do with the Symbiote. I think something changed inside me."

Maribel’s frown disappeared.

"What?" She looked toward the house. "Are we in danger right now?"

"N...No. Not that kind of danger."

Her eyes narrowed with confusion.

I shifted on the bench, staring down at the dirt near my shoes.

"It’s more like... urges," I muttered. "My hormones feel messed up. Stronger than normal. I don’t know how else to explain it."

Maribel stayed still.

For a moment, she looked like she had not understood me at all.

Then her eyes widened.

Color rose into her cheeks, and she quickly turned her face away from mine.

"Y...You’re serious?" she asked.

"I am. Why would I lie about something this embarrassing?" I scratched at my hair, wishing the ground would open up and swallow me. "And there’s something else."

Maribel looked back at me, though she still seemed uncomfortable.

I checked the glass door. Through it, I could see movement in the living room, but nobody appeared to be looking our way. Shannon was probably still talking everyone’s ears off while Carmen tried to stop her from eating half the cake by herself.

I lowered my voice.

"I kissed Summer."

Maribel’s entire face changed.

Her eyes opened wider, and she stared at me as though I had told her an Infected had climbed into the house.

"Y...You didn’t cure her, did you?"

"No!" I said quickly. "Not that. It was just a kiss."

The words sounded bad even before I finished saying them.

Maribel kept staring.

I looked down again.

"It wasn’t even a normal kiss," I admitted. "She was treating my injuries. I pushed her down and kissed her. I didn’t think about what I was doing until afterward." My fingers curled against the edge of the bench. "I don’t even know how to talk to her anymore."

Maribel let out a long breath through her nose.

"So that’s why she’s been acting weird," she said.

"Yeah." I sank farther against the bench. "My fault again."

"Well, yeah," she said bluntly. "If you pushed her down and kissed her without her consent, that was pretty scummy. She might not forgive you."

My stomach dropped.

I already knew she was right. Hearing it from Maribel still hurt.

The bench creaked as I shifted forward, elbows resting against my knees. Inside, somebody laughed. Shannon, probably. The sound reached us faintly through the glass, cheerful enough to make the garden feel colder.

Maribel watched me for a few seconds.

"But did you explain to her that the Symbiote was affecting you?" She asked.

"I did." I shook my head. "It doesn’t really change much. Summer and I had been getting along. We were friends. She trusted me enough to treat my injuries, and I did something weird because I couldn’t control myself."

Maribel did not answer right away.

She walked over and sat beside me on the swing. The bench dipped slightly under her weight. She kept a little space between us, enough that her dress did not touch my leg.

"I can talk to her if you want," she said.

I looked at her.

"You would do that?"

"I said I can talk to her. I didn’t say I can magically fix it."

"I know, but wouldn’t she hate me if she finds out I told you?"

Maribel gave a small shrug.

"No idea. Maybe." She looked toward the house. "I won’t tell her you explained everything. I can just ask if something happened between you two."

"That still feels like putting you in the middle."

"You already put yourself in the middle," she said, glancing at me. "I’m only offering because Summer’s my friend too."

I winced. "Fair."

Maribel’s expression softened a little.

"She knows you," she continued. "Or at least, she knows you well enough to understand that you wouldn’t normally force yourself on someone. That doesn’t mean she has to be okay with it. You should apologize to her properly when she’s ready to hear it."

"I will."

"You better."

Despite everything, a small smile reached my face.

"Thanks, Maribel."

She nodded and tipped her face toward the sky.