Free State of Emergency (Book) by Summer Lane Page A

situation I would think this was awkward, but I’m so miserable I don’t care.
    Chris falls asleep almost instantly. I’m guessing after nine years of being a Navy Seal you can sleep through anything – even the end of the world. It takes me a little bit longer to stop my shivering. When I finally drop off I have weird dreams about all the dead people at the rest stop, so I force myself to wake back up.
    I’m surprised to find that it’s already early morning. It’s still raining, unfortunately. I curse the rain gods and make a move to sit up, feeling something heavy around my waist.
    Oh, snap.
    Chris’s arms are wrapped around my waist, pressing my back against his chest. No wonder I was so warm. Embarrassed, I lower myself down and pretend I’m asleep as he stirs. I don’t want to be awake when he realizes he and I had a cuddle fest all night.
    Awkward…
    “Cassie?” he whispers, shifting. “What time is it?”
    I freeze, keeping my eyes squeezed shut.
    “I know you’re awake,” he continues, lifting himself up on one arm. “Don’t deny it.”
    I roll my eyes.
    “I just woke up, genius. And you can let go.”
    “Why? Aren’t you warm?” He smiles against my ear, keeping his grip firm.
    “No,” I mutter, extricating myself from his embrace.
    “I did it for you,” he smirks, shaking his hair out of his ponytail. “I thought you’d appreciate not turning into a human Popsicle during the night.”
    “Whatever,” I retort. “You don’t have to be weird about it.”
    “I’m not the one being weird about it. You are.”
    I shoot him my most menacing glare before rolling up my blanket, stuffing it into my backpack with force. Not because I’m mad at him for cozying up to me during the night, but because I liked the way it felt.
    Great. The end of the world is turning me into a desperate idiot.
    I zip my pack up and take a look around the freeway through the tinted windows of the SUV. There’s still not a soul in sight. Just a bunch of stupid rainclouds and screwed up vehicles.
    “Exactly how are we supposed to get to Squaw Valley on foot?” I say, giving voice to the thought that has been at the forefront of my mind ever since we lost my beautiful Mustang. “Because that could be a long, long stroll in the Winter. Besides, I don’t even think I have enough food in my pack to last that long.”
    “It’s about two hundred miles away, right?” Chris replies.
    “I guess.”
    “I’d say if we keep walking every day and make good time, it could take…” he pauses and thinks it over. “Maybe two weeks. If we can do about fifteen miles a day.”
    “Do I look like a marathon runner to you?” I say, feeling depressed. “I don’t even lift weights.”
    Chris flashes a smug grin.
    “Thankfully, I’m in great shape, so if you collapse with exhaustion, I’ll be more than happy to carry you all the way there.”
    I whack him on the arm.
    “Sure you will,” I mumble. “And then what are you going to do? Bug out with your little brother and leave me in the middle of the wilderness?”
    He raises his eyebrows.
    “What happens, happens,” he says.
    I open my mouth to say something sarcastic and brilliant before I close it again. I don’t have to reply. It’s not worth it.
    “Ease up, kid,” he advises, pulling his tee-shirt off. “We got a long way to go and you’re going to want to stick with me.” 
    I press my back against the trunk and stare, his muscular upper body taking center stage in my brain for a moment.
    “What?” I say, absent.
    “Forget it,” Chris replies.
    I notice a tattoo of a vicious cobra around his left bicep. He’s also wearing a gold chain around his neck. “See something of interest?” he asks, the corners of his lips curving upward.
    I clear my throat.
    “No. Put a shirt on, will you? It’s not polite,” I say, popping the trunk open. The cold air does a lot to cool the rush of blood to my cheeks. Apparently being trapped within three feet of a hot,