Hollow Men by Sommer Marsden Page B

a comfort smell to me, bringing to mind my dad’s supplies and camping. I also liked the smell of old books and men after they’ve been out in the cold. I’m not a roses and perfume kind of girl.
    I flopped down and stared at him. He was already reading, his feet up in and his posture relaxed.
    “What?” he asked, without looking up.
    “I’m sorry,” I said. I didn’t even know I was going to say it.
    His brown eyes found me. His look was direct…kind. “For what?”
    “For yesterday. For being so harsh. For…all of it. I really don’t feel like explaining myself to anyone, not even you. But I know you didn’t deserve that, and I am sorry I was so…” I blew out a sigh. Then I laughed. “I’m sorry I was so much myself.”
    “I wouldn’t want you to be anyone else, El,” he said, returning his gaze to the book. “And it’s fine. But I need you to know how I feel. About you. About all of this. About us.”
    There can’t be an us.
    I left it unsaid. I rolled on my side, so my back was facing him and pulled a blanket over myself. I put a pillow over my face to block the light. I just needed a little nap.
    It felt as if no time at all went by before gunshots woke me.

 
    Chapter Nine
     
     
     
    “Stay down.” Evan didn’t just say it. He had planted a hand on my back and was holding me flush to the bed.
    “Let me up.” Panic flared through me.
    “Wait, Eleanor.” His voice held no room for argument. I turned my head as far as I could to see him as he stared out one of the bus’s many windows.
    I blew out a breath and tried to focus on not freaking out. If he was holding me down, it was for a reason. By the way he crouched over me, keeping his body low and mostly below the sight line through the windows, he was worried for both of us.
    Another gunshot and I felt him flinch. “Shh,” he said, though I’d said nothing at all.
    People were shouting. Someone was wailing. I had to pee. A hell of a time to realize that because the anxiety produced by the situation just made it worse.
    The hand on my back lightened a little. I didn’t try to sit up, though. I waited, now a little calmer, and focused on my breathing and trying to slow the rapid-fire beating of my heart.
    “What is it?” I whispered.
    I realized the sky was growing purple. It was dusk. I’d slept for hours.
    “I’m not sure.”
    “Why’d you let me sleep so long?” I hissed, fixating on something less frightening than gunshots at a campground.
    He laughed softly. “Yeah, sorry about that, guess I was more tired than I thought. I dozed off too. That chair is pretty comfortable. No wonder your pop wanted to make sure he had it.”
    His hand came off my back, and Evan sat back on his haunches. “I think we’re good.”
    I heard the feedback whistle and pop of a bullhorn and then: “The situation is under control, folks. There will be an update by bathhouse two in ten minutes. Please watch your surroundings, check on your neighbors and contact a soldier with any problems or suspicions.” A murmuring could be heard even in the bus. Then: “Please proceed in an orderly fashion. Please do not panic. Chaos will not be tolerated.”
    I sat up, finally. Evan looked me over and suddenly grabbed my face in his hands, pulled me in and kissed me. I kissed him back, caught up in the moment and flooded with enough adrenaline to feel that relieved show of affection all the way through my body. It glowed in my chest, shimmered through my belly, settled in my pussy.
    I pulled back, gasping for air. “I have dog breath!”
    “My dog breath cancels yours out,” he said, grinning.
    The fear that had been stamped all over his handsome features was fading. “I’m sorry. I’m just glad you’re okay. Let’s call that kiss a celebration of life.”
    I wiped my hand across my mouth to cover an almost smile. “Yeah, well, celebrate life with less spit next time.”
    He snorted and smoothed my hair with his hands.
    “Bed head,” I growled,