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plumbing.”
    Her expression slowly shifted to understanding and then . . . disgust. “So . . . how do you? I mean . . . If I really have to . . .?”
    “There’s a bucket in there. Use it, take it out back, dump it. If you have to . . . ya know, number two? There’s a trowel. Dig a hole before you dump it and then make sure you cover it back up.”
    Her face said she was wishing her bladder had an impenetrable seal on it right about now and that just made him laugh harder.
    “So glad I can amuse you.” Em had some spunk in her. He hadn’t expected that.
    “Me too.” It was true. Jay couldn’t actually remember the last time he’d laughed about . . . well, anything.  “Back there is a spare room, but part of the roof is caved in so I wouldn’t recommend it. And, this . . .” he drew up to the fourth and final door off the hallway, directly across from Ace and Skunk’s room, “is mine.”
    She followed him timidly inside the room, and he watched her inspect the area. He followed her gaze—trying to see it through her eyes—over the slightly warped floorboards, past his bed of newspaper and blankets in the corner, over the boarded up window, and settling against the far wall where all that could be counted as his ‘stuff’ sat heaped on the floor. It wasn’t exactly like he’d been expecting company. A brown leather suitcase with a few shirts hanging out of it, a milk crate that doubled as a table, and a day old carton of rice. That was his ‘stuff’. Frustrated by the sight of it, he let his gaze wander back to the girl beside him and watched as a violent shiver ran through her body. No wonder, she was dripping a puddle on the floor beneath her. And so was he, come to think of it.
    “Here.” Jay snatched a few items from the suitcase and held them out to her. “You can wear these, until your things dry.”
    “Thank you.” Her voice barely registered above a whisper, nerves crushing that spunk he’d admired a few moments ago.
    Jay didn’t fail to notice the way she carefully avoided touching him when she took the clothes, either. A bolt of angry embarrassment shot through him, but he stuffed it down. Who cared what she thought? He made her nervous? Uncomfortable? Good.
    “I’m gonna change , too, so you can use the spare room . . . if you don’t mind.” He didn’t mean to sound bitter, but despite his silent declarations, her reaction still stung.
    “Right. Okay. Sure thing.” She backed out of the  room, stammering, and pulled the door closed behind her.
    What the hell was he thinking?
     

 
     
    Chapter Eight
     
     
    Em
     
    The spare room was worse than Jay had let on. The roof had definitely collapsed. Not just in a small area, but the entire rear section along with an upper chunk of the back wall. The carpet was completely saturated and squelched under her feet. But, even a partial roof was better than no roof at all, and Jay had given this to her.  He had brought her here—to his home—and trusted her enough to share the most priceless thing he had. And he didn’t even know her.
    She couldn’t decide what to think of that, of him . Jay made her nervous, and the idea of spending the night in the same room, alone with him . . . it put her on just this side of nauseas. On the other hand, he had protected her. Probably more than once if she were honest with herself. Risked his life to save hers. How do you not trust someone after something like that?
    She shook out the bundle of clothes he’d given her, careful to avoid getting them wet. They were immense. Obviously, not Jay’s. Not originally, anyway. Sure, he had a built chest, broad shoulders, and more than a few inches on her, but these were meant for the freaking Terminator. They might have fit Ace. It didn’t matter though. They were dry and warm. That’s all her shivering body and chattering teeth cared about. What was she doing thinking about Jay’s chest anyway? Like she didn’t have enough troubles