Erin

Derek glances to the side, giving me a quick grin as I pass him. Every completed lap around the track gives me a sense of satisfaction. I’m running out all my anxieties about being trapped down here—and all my fears about Matias.

“I get first shower,” I say to Derek as I approach him the next lap around.

“Orrrrr…we could save water and share,” he suggests.

I can only manage a single note of laughter since I’m breathless. “I’m sure you’d have no…idea what to do…with a sweaty woman,” I pant between breaths, running in place.

“Oh, you’d be pleasantly surprised.”

His deep, confident tone stirs something inside me. Something that feels warm, delicious…beautifully reckless.

But I can’t go there with Derek. He wouldn’t have given me a second look if we weren’t trapped down here. And I refuse to be the woman he chooses just because his options are limited.

“Yeah, and then Kenna would shank me.” I laugh lightly and resume running, calling behind me, “I’ll go hit the shower now. Just give me ten minutes!”

I return to the main bunker area, stopping by the bunk room on the way to quietly open the door and look inside. Matias is sleeping soundly, covered by two bath towels. Bryce looks up from the book he’s reading in a lower bunk near Matias. I wave and pull the door closed again.

It’s hard for me to leave Matias. I feel protective of him, and if he needs something, I want to be the one taking care of him. But I know Derek is right—we all need to work together on this.

Kenna glares at me from the couch as I cross the massive great room. The more time I spend with Derek, the more she hates me. I don’t care at all, though. Kenna isn’t someone I want to know better, even in these unusual circumstances.

It feels good to wash away the sweat and lather my hair in the shower. It still surprises me that I can do this. When we were first trapped down here, I didn’t think I’d even be able to keep breathing, let alone keep living. Somehow, I’m managing, though. The ghosts of my past are always down here with me, however.

Quit crying. Just be quiet, or you’ll ruin everything.

I squeeze my eyes shut, letting the water stream down my face. If only I could wash away the memories.

When I’m clean, I dry off with a fluffy gray towel and get dressed, groaning my disgust as I put my dirty clothes back on. I’ve been wearing the same tank top, jean shorts, bra, and panties for six weeks now. It’s pretty gross. At least I’m able to wash them.

There are things we don’t have down here, like pillows, blankets, and fresh food. But for the most part, Kenna had already stocked the bunker with what she could when we got trapped. I’m grateful for that. She’d even supplied it with tampons and pads.

We’re getting by, but I’d trade the creature comforts down here for anything that would help Matias. Occasionally, someone will mention that we don’t have an unlimited food supply and we can’t last down here forever. But none of us are as concerned about that as we are about Matias.

I grab my bath towel and walk into the supply room, picking up a piece of paper I left on a steel shelf near the door and hanging it on the front of the door with a piece of tape.

The first time I washed my clothes, I left a sign on the door that said, “DO NOT ENTER. Erin is washing her clothes.”

There’s no lock on the supply door, so I always cover myself with a towel and sit with my back against the door as my clothes wash and dry. I’m more reserved than Derek—I don’t want anyone down here seeing me in nothing but a towel.

I undress, toss my clothes into the washing machine with a little powdered soap, and wrap up in my towel, the machine humming to life as I sit down and pick up the book I’m reading about Theodore Roosevelt during my laundry time.

It may not be all that exciting, but it passes the time. And down here, time is very different from how it was in the real world.

How long will we be stuck down here? Will the hours and days wind away until we’re out of food and we starve to death, one by one? Or will something else we can’t foresee take us out before then?

Time moves slowly in this bunker. And that’s chilling for me because I’ve experienced that same thing before. It’s been many years since I knew this feeling, but it’s something I’ll never be able to forget.

As soon as I hear the click that signifies the end of the washing machine’s cycle, I get up and toss my clothes into the dryer. I start it and have just wrapped back up in my towel and sat down in front of the door when a few light knocks sound against the wood.

I jump at the unexpected disturbance, stand up, and then say, “What?”

“Hey, what are you doin’?”

It’s Derek’s deep voice, and my heart pounds in response.

“My clothes are drying,” I say.

“Can I come in?”

“No!” I instinctively close the towel a little tighter around myself.

“I won’t look,” he says playfully, “…much.”

My chest feels like a drumline now, the loud thrumming making me a little dizzy. Derek’s flirting game is stronger than mine, that’s for sure. I never know how to respond when he talks to me this way, or when he looks at me with warmth—and occasionally, heat—in his eyes.

“Do you need something from in here?” I ask, laying a palm against the smooth, grainy surface of the door.

“I do.”

“What is it? I can hand it out to you.”

“You won’t be able to. I bet it weighs a good hundred and thirty pounds.”

My lips part and my cheeks warm, but all I can manage to say is, “Oh, really?”

“Really.”

I lean my cheek against the door, a weightless sensation making my head swim. Derek is just inches away. I like having him so close but not having to worry about him seeing my expression. I can keep my goofy grin to myself and just enjoy the moment.

“Can you cover up and let me in?” His voice is so close, a little gruffer than before.

I should tell him no again. That’s the Erin thing to do. But down here, I’m a different Erin than I am on the outside. I’m a woman who no longer has all the time in the world. So instead of doing what I should, I do what I want.

I use both hands to clutch the seam of the towel wrapped around me and then take a few steps back from the door.

“It’s not locked,” I say, my voice catching on the words.

The handle turns, and I lick my lips. Derek opens the door just enough to step through, then pushes it closed behind him.

His gaze slides down my body, then back up again. It heats me from the inside out. I’m gripping the towel so tightly my knuckles are burning.

“You mind if I wash my clothes, too?” he asks.

I look down at the sweaty bundle of clothes in his hand.

“Oh yeah…I mean, no.” I step aside, out of the path of the washer and dryer.

A smile plays on his lips as he walks past me and puts his clothes in the washing machine. My heartbeat sounds in my ears as I close my eyes, trying to gather myself.

“There’s no chessboard in here,” he says casually. “How will we pass the time?”

“Well, I…uh…have this book on Theodore Roosevelt,” I say weakly.

Derek closes the lid of the washing machine, turns, and leans his back against it, facing me.

“You want to read a book right now?” He arches his brows in surprise.

I look at the ground, my cheeks burning.

“Hey,” he says softly. “Look at me.”

I lift my face back up and take in the view, which is impressive. Derek’s hair is damp from the shower, his dark beard thick and full now. The hair on his chest and arms is the same shade, and the lines of muscle curving over his entire upper body are right out of a men’s fitness magazine.

“I like it when you look at me,” he says.

We’re separated by about twelve feet, but it feels like more. The air is thick and charged with heady arousal.

“I…I like it when you look at me, too,” I admit.

His gaze darkens, and his nostrils flare slightly. “I want to do more than look, Erin. You know that, don’t you?”

I wish I had a smart, sexy response, but instead, I shrug. Derek smiles.

“Why are you so nervous?” he asks. “I’d never hurt you.”

“I know,” I say quickly. “I just… I’m not good at this.”

He shakes his head and steps toward me. “You’re wrong about that. You can get me going with just a smile.”

My breathing becomes shallow as he gets closer. It’s the first moment since we’ve been down here that I don’t want to escape. Not even a little.

When he reaches me, Derek puts one of his hands over mine, which still has a death grip on the towel.

“Relax,” he says softly.

I lessen my hold, feeling a brush against the front of my hip. When I look down, I see Derek’s towel jutting out in front. He’s very turned on, from the looks of it.

“You look sexy with wet hair,” he says, brushing his fingertips over my damp hair above my ear.

“You look pretty good yourself.”

He moves his fingertips, grazing down my neck to my collarbone, across my chest, and to my shoulder. Goose bumps pop up on my skin, and a shiver runs down my spine.

When Derek leans closer, moving slowly, I decide in a split second to let myself go. I take a hand from my towel and move it to his back, pulling him closer.

He cups my face in his palms then and lowers his mouth to mine. His lips are warm, and his beard is surprisingly soft. My heart hammers uncontrollably as he kisses me, gently at first. When his tongue brushes against mine, I put my other arm around him too.

The curves of our bodies mold together as we explore each other’s mouths, both of us hungrier for this kiss than for air. One of Derek’s hands wraps around my hip, and the other cradles the back of my neck.

My towel starts to shift and I move to hold it closed, but Derek’s palm slides from my thigh up to my hip, the hot trail of his touch making my breath hitch.

“Don’t hide from me,” he whispers in my ear. “Let me touch you.”

What little self-control I have left spirals away as he cups my ass and kisses my neck. It feels so incredibly good, and I give in to the sensations. His hands work a sensual magic on my body, roaming and caressing, but he never gets close to my burning core.

Derek takes one of my hands and puts it on his chest, closing his eyes. I run my palm over the hard surface, and his lips part in silent pleasure.

“I’ll never take anything from you that you don’t want to give me,” he whispers against my mouth. “I’m not that kind of man. You never need to be afraid with me.”

“Okay.” I kiss him gently in thanks.

My towel is bunched between our chests, my entire back exposed to the open air. He takes the sides of it and closes it around me.

“I was only gonna kiss you,” he says, a smile in his voice. “Guess I got a little carried away.”

“So did I.” I laugh softly.

He brushes a thumb over my cheekbone, his eyes locked on mine. “You’re the only good thing down here, Erin. And goddamn, are you good.”

I refasten my towel around me, grinning. “You know, if you ever got into my bed at night…I wouldn’t kick you out.”

“Oh fuck. See you tonight.”

I laugh softly. “I mean, we can’t…I’m on the pill, but my pills are at home, so…”

“Right.” He nods. “We’ll just have to get creative.”

I close my eyes and sigh heavily. “Kenna’s gonna kill me. You know that, right?”

“Well, I’m worth it.” He winks at me. “Don’t worry about it. She’ll be fine.”

He wraps his arms around me in a hug, his erection still firm against my leg. “You look tired. Why don’t you go lie down, and I’ll bring you your clothes when they’re done?”

That does sound good—I’ve got the evening shift with Matias tonight. But I don’t want anyone else to see me in just a towel.

“I’ll go ask the others to stay in the bunk room till you get to your room,” Derek says. “You need some sleep.”

I nod, my heart picking up pace again as I think about him coming to my bedroom tonight. “Yeah, okay.”

I don’t let myself think about the what-ifs and all the reasons this thing with Derek is a bad idea. Outside Erin would be doing that. Bunker Erin knows it’s okay to have a port in the storm. If Derek and I can bring each other an escape from the sadness and uncertainties of being down here, I’m all for it.