Reviving Zeke (Project DEEP Book 4) Page 6

  “Or maybe I just latched onto that idea as a means of self-preservation and then told myself they look alike over and over as a way to justify how I was treating her.”

  “Why would you do that?”

  Zeke rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s easier than letting her get to me. However, she’s managed to do so anyway, even though I’ve treated her as though she were spawned by the devil.”

  A few moments of silence passed before Ryan’s lips parted, and he spoke again. “So, you’ve been trying to ensure Michelle doesn’t like you because you’re afraid to take a chance on another woman? Your ex must have really done a number on you.”

  “Trust me. She did.”

  “Okay, but Michelle is one of the nicest people I know, and even though I noticed you two bumping heads for the last three weeks, I also saw the way you leaped through the air last night to protect her.”

  “Yeah. Instinct. She’s pretty pissed at me today too. I wasn’t very eloquent while she was trying to clean my forehead in the bathroom last night, and I might have botched our conversation earlier this morning too.” Zeke’s shoulders dropped lower on his already slouched body.

  He’d been walking a fine line with Michelle for weeks, trying to keep some distance between them day in and day out, but he didn’t like her thinking he was a total dick. It rubbed him wrong. So, he’d stepped over the line last night to try to fix things.

  Ryan lifted another brow. “Did you apologize?”

  “Of course.” Poorly. It was suddenly hot in Ryan’s office. Zeke reached for his collar to pull it away from his neck.

  A slow smile spread on Ryan’s face. “I’m thinking you might need to try again. I saw her stomp down the hall a while ago. She didn’t look like a woman who’d accepted your apology.”

  She certainly hadn’t. Zeke was well aware.

  “I’m going to go out on a limb here and suggest that she probably wouldn’t be quite so flustered by you if she wasn’t also experiencing some level of attraction.”

  Zeke suspected Ryan was right, but that only made matters worse. He didn’t want Michelle to be attracted to him. He didn’t want anyone to be. Women were complications he didn’t need. Especially sexy ones with amazing eyes, great hair, and an IQ he only barely could compete with.

  Zeke closed his eyes and let his head dip. This was bad.

  “Talk to her.”

  “Seems like I’ve said enough,” he murmured toward the floor.

  “Talk to her, man. Do it today. It’s eating you alive.”

  “I already apologized. Twice. I wouldn’t even know what else to say.”

  “How about instead of skirting around the obvious, you confront it head on and admit you have feelings for her? I guarantee that method will get you a lot further than growling at her and shooting daggers across the room from your eyes like you’re on a grade school playground.”

  Zeke took a deep breath. Ryan was right. He knew it. Besides, Ryan obviously had some knowledge about how to talk to woman. After all, Emily adored him. He had to be doing something right. Zeke had known Emily for years. Any man who managed to grab her heart had to be made of gold.

  “All right,” Zeke conceded. “I’ll find her later tonight. But if this goes badly, I’m blaming you tomorrow.” He forced a smile as he stood. He was so done with this conversation.

  Ryan laughed. “Good luck.”

  “You sure you want to do this?” Emily asked. She was sitting on the beige Formica counter in the suite she shared with Ryan. All the suites were the same. They reminded Michelle of hotel suites. Small living room with attached kitchenettes, a bedroom, and a bathroom. All of them had the same light wood furniture and cabinets and beige carpet and walls. The only differences were the variety of color schemes for the bedding.

  Her friend Kate was holding a bowl of solution over the sink, stirring it. She wore a pair of protective gloves, and she was grinning. “Don’t encourage her to chicken out, Em. I haven’t had the opportunity to dye anyone’s hair in years. This is fun. Girl time. Pour us another glass of wine.”

  Emily swung her legs, a full glass of zinfandel in her hand. She glanced at it. “We haven’t finished the first glass yet.” Her gaze shifted to Michelle. “But about your hair, have you ever highlighted it before?”

  “No.” Michelle was sitting on a chair in the middle of the bathroom with a strange purple cap covering her head and thin sections of hair pulled through tiny holes all over the tight rubber cap to make her look possessed. “But it’s about time I did something different.”

  “Why the sudden urge today?” Kate asked as she lifted the little brush and applied the dye solution.

  “I thought it was time for a change. That’s all.”

  “Really?” Emily let that word drag out for a long time. “This doesn’t have anything to do with impressing a certain sour coworker does it?”

  Michelle flinched. “What are you talking about?” She glanced at Emily to find her grinning too wide. Shit.

  “The way you two argue with each other makes everyone in the bunker suspicious.” Emily took a dainty sip of her wine.

  “Argue with who?” Was it really necessary for Michelle to dig her heels in further on this issue? It would help if she had some girlfriends to talk to. She hadn’t been able to be authentic with any of the girls she’d known growing up, and when she’d been in college, it has been so competitive that she’d never opened herself up to vulnerability. But Emily and Kate were friends. Coworkers. Reanimated recently. No one was competing for anything here. She felt safer with them. And maybe it helped that they knew Zeke.

  Kate giggled as she continued to apply the highlighting solution. “Why is it such a secret? If you like the guy, go for it.”

  Michelle tipped her head back. “You too? Is this a conspiracy?” She still wasn’t sure they were talking about the same thing.

  Emily shook her head. “No one has had the guts to say anything. We figured you would come around on your own time. But these highlights… And the cut… I assume you and Zeke had some sort of moment last night while you were tending to his scrapes.”

  Michelle sighed. “He said I look like his ex-wife.”

  “What?” both women shouted at the same time.

  “Meredith?” Kate continued. “You don’t look anything like Meredith. That woman was bitter and angry and frivolous and needy and greedy and…I could go on.”

  Michelle met Kate’s gaze. “Did she have long brown hair and brown eyes?”

  Kate cringed. “Yeah. I guess. But she always looked like she stepped out of a salon with her makeup perfect and her expensive styles and her heels and dresses. How the hell could Zeke say you resemble her at all?” She took a breath and continued applying the color.

  Emily picked up where Kate left off. “I’m not seeing it. It never occurred to me. His ex was a bitch. You are not. Maybe that’s not his problem. Maybe he’s afraid to fall for someone else, and he’s using your hair color as an excuse. Because even your eyes aren’t the same shade. You’re taller. More slender. Less flashy. Her boobs were enormous. Probably fake.”

  Michelle shot her a look. “Thanks. That helps. So, what you’re saying is that the woman was far sexier than me with large tits, a curvy body, better makeup, and stylish clothes?”

  Emily scrunched up her face. “You make yourself sound like a withered hag when you put it like that. Trust me. Meredith has nothing on you. She didn’t have enough brain cells to compete.”

  “Maybe Zeke prefers women who don’t challenge him intellectually.”

  Kate shook her head. “Admittedly, none of us knew Meredith well. She hated hanging out with the rest of us. She looked bored. And she probably was since she wasn’t a scientist or a doctor. Zeke always seemed uncomfortable around her, probably because he couldn’t please her no matter what he did.”

  “This is a horrible idea,” Michelle said, glancing at her weird head in the mirror. “Why the hell did I think it might help if I changed
my appearance?”

  Kate set the bowl in the sink and leaned against the beige Formica counter. “It never hurts to put forth some effort to get a man to pay attention to you. No matter what he says or does when I’m finished with you, you’ll feel fantastic about yourself.”

  Michelle bit her lip, still looking in the mirror. “I’m not sure he would notice even if I stepped in front of him with the purple cap and the medusa hair.” She glanced at Kate. “I’ve never had highlights, but I’ve never seen this weird cap when it’s on TV.”

  Kate shrugged. “Yeah, they have this new-fangled foil thing nowadays, but I’ve never used that method.”

  Emily laughed. “Don’t worry, Kate is a great stylist. She’s the only MD I know who learned to cut hair while she was still in high school in between chemistry class and biology.” Emily pointed at the funny hair arrangement and laughed. “However, I agree. I’m pretty sure they don’t still color hair using this method.”

  Kate shrugged as she picked up her glass of wine and took a drink. “Hey, some people babysat for extra spending money. I cut hair. This is how my mom taught me when I was in high school, so this is what you get.”

  Chapter 6

  It was late when Michelle left Emily’s suite to head toward her own. Her two new friends weren’t wrong about how the cut and color made her feel. She hadn’t looked this hot since high school. The three of them had even played around in Emily’s closet with her limited wardrobe, trying on skirts and tight shirts until Emily insisted Michelle borrow a few things.

  On their second bottle of wine, the three of them had moved to the bathroom to put on makeup. Kate and Emily had given Michelle some pointers that made her look like a new woman.

  Michelle had no idea when she would ever have the opportunity to wear anything except scrubs since she never left the bunker and rarely even left the lab. There was also no reason to get up early each morning to apply makeup for the job of curing diseases. However, tonight had been the first time in months she’d taken several hours to enjoy herself. She felt free. Happy. She was smiling.

  It had also been the first time in a long time she’d had anything to drink. She was calmer, relaxed, even confident as she headed back to her own suite. Barefoot, wearing the tight jean skirt and white tank top, she swung the bag of scrubs at her side. Her hair was styled so well that she didn’t look like herself. The eyeliner and mascara had made her eyes pop out.

  When she rounded the corner, pulling her keycard out of her pocket, she stopped dead.

  Zeke was leaning against her door. He glanced up and then back at the floor.

  She didn’t move. Frozen several feet away from him. What was he doing there?

  After a few seconds, he slowly lifted his gaze again. “Michelle?”

  She almost laughed when she realized he hadn’t recognized her. Which was absurd. Instead of going with her first reaction—comedic relief, she schooled her face. “Seriously?” She continued forward, shoving him out of the way with her hip so she could open her door.

  This had been a horrible idea. Changing her hair had been one thing, but now the entire package made her feel self-conscious, especially since he’d had to do a double take.

  Wasn’t that the goal?

  Suddenly, she hated the entire notion. So what if he found her attractive? Fuck him. If he didn’t like the old Michelle, why would she want him to fall for her just because she had on makeup, real clothes, and styled hair?

  She was a complete moron.

  After managing to get the door unlocked with shaky hands, she pushed it open and tried to hurry inside, leaving him standing in the hallway. She still had no idea why he was outside her door, but she no longer had the confidence she’d exuded moments ago. She didn’t want to speak to him at all.

  He set a hand on her door before she could close it, pushed it open farther, and stepped into her suite without an invitation.

  This was worse. He’d never been in her private space. She didn’t want him in her rooms. “What do you want, Zeke? It’s late. Can it wait until morning?”

  Ironically, he wasn’t wearing scrubs tonight either. He was wearing a fantastic pair of jeans and a navy polo. He scanned her body from toe to head and back down again. “Do I have the right room?”

  For a second she wanted to scream and slap him, and then she noticed one corner of his mouth was tipped up. If he wasn’t careful, someone might mistake his expression for almost a smile. She rolled her eyes, turned around, and headed for the kitchen. “Don’t be an asshole.”

  She dropped her bag on the floor and jerked the fridge open to grab a bottle of water. The perfect buzz she’d been nursing had taken a nosedive. Thank you, Zeke.

  He sighed loudly behind her. “I’m not sure there’s anything I can possibly do or say that won’t piss you off, and I deserve it. I just wanted to talk to you. I was hoping we might be able to clear the air and start over.”

  When she turned around, she found him running a hand through his hair. He looked distressed. Good. “You want to clear the air…”

  She rounded the armchair and flopped down in the corner of the couch. If she hadn’t been wearing a skirt, she would have pulled her legs under her. But tonight, she’d made this error in judgment, and she was now trapped by the confines of short, tight denim that showed way too much leg and made her self-conscious.

  Zeke slowly came closer and lowered himself onto the other end of her couch. “You look amazing, by the way.” His gaze roamed up and down her body. She noticed the scratches on his forehead looked clean and he’d put an antibacterial cream on them. “Did you highlight your hair?”

  She lifted her brows, meeting his gaze. Shocked he noticed. She didn’t respond. She wasn’t even sure how to.

  “I like it.” He licked his lips and then froze. “Wait. Please tell me you didn’t do that because I said you look like my ex.”

  She felt the heat crawl up her face. This was indeed the stupidest thing she’d ever done, and she was reconsidering Temple’s idea of transferring people to another bunker. Was it possible Temple could transfer Michelle, say, tomorrow morning?

  Zeke groaned, leaning his head against the cushion to stare at the ceiling. “I’ve been demoted from asshole to total fucking jackass.”

  She wasn’t particularly sorry he felt that way. In fact, she pursed her lips. Somehow she also managed to tuck her legs semi-gracefully under herself. It made her feel slightly less exposed.

  After swiping a hand down his face, he met her gaze again. “I lied to you last night.”

  She flinched. What was he talking about?

  “You don’t remind me of my ex-wife.”

  She lifted a brow. What a weird day. Would it please end soon?

  He shook his head as if to clear it. “Maybe you did at first when I met you, but it didn’t last long. At a glance, you have similarities, but they’re superficial. You’re nothing like her, and now that I know you better, you don’t look like her at all.”

  She searched his face. She would have fired questions at him if she could have come up with any, but she was struck dumb. She cleared her throat. “Then, why tell me…?”

  He glanced down at his hands and wrung his fingers together in his lap. “Because I thought it would be easier. I’ve been such a dick toward you for weeks and especially the last twenty-four hours. I didn’t want to tell you the real reason, but now, it seems only fair that I admit why I really treated you with such animosity.”

  Her heart beat so fast, and she couldn’t seem to inhale deeply enough. She had no idea what he was talking about. Her mind raced to several possibilities while he hesitated: He hated women. He hated her, in particular. He didn’t like smart women. He didn’t like scientists. She was too tall. Too short. Too skinny. Too…something.

  Suddenly, he scooted closer to her and twisted his body so he was fully facing her. He set a hand on the back of the couch, not touching her but so close.

  She truly stopped breathing.


  He managed to inhale deeply, however. “It’s like I woke up a different person, sort of. I don’t even know who’s inhabiting my body. The things I used to think were the most important aspects of my existence have slid down the list. New thoughts and ideas are occupying the space where the old ones resided until just a few weeks ago.”

  She didn’t move. She wasn’t following, but apparently he needed to ramble to get this all out. She just prayed everything would be better between them when he was finished.

  “My priorities have been rearranged. I still love science and medicine, but I don’t feel the same urgency I felt before I was preserved. It makes no sense because as far as my brain is concerned, I went to sleep one day and woke up the next. If it weren’t for the changes to the bunker and the additional people I’ve never met, I could easily believe it was still 2008. Sometimes it all feels so surreal.”

  She nodded slowly at his pause and finally managed to say something. “The others have expressed feeling similarly. You’re not alone.”

  “I know. I’ve spoken to them. In fact, we’re practically a support group now. Every one of us is going to need each other to lean on to get through this crazy time.”

  “What does this have to do with me?”

  He searched her face as if still looking for the mysterious answer, even though she knew he came here tonight fully knowing what he wanted to say. He was simply having trouble spitting it out. Which scared her to death.

  “I’m attracted to you.”

  Her breath hitched. That was the last thing she expected him to say.

  “I mean, really attracted to you. Not as a friend. Not as a coworker. As a woman. When I’m with you, I want to move closer. When you enter a room, I know it without looking. I want to reach out and touch you all the time. I want to do so right now.”

  She had never been so confused in her life. He was leaning so close to her that she could feel his breath. The only other time he’d been this close was last night when she’d tended to his forehead.