Hollowmen (The Hollows #2)

I didn’t even know he’d undone his pants until I felt him thrust inside me. I cried out in surprise and pleasure, and he was kissing me again, silencing my moans. I wrapped my legs around him, and then he let go of my arms, letting me hang onto him as he pushed me harder against the wall.

Something changed between us then. There was a frantic hunger in the way we kissed and moved. Even the way he gripped me, his fingers digging into my bare back and pressing me to him, it felt desperate and primal.

Our bodies intertwined, moving together in the most animalistic way, and we were firmly in the moment. Neither of us was in control, and it felt wonderful.





34.


The morning light spilled in through the sheer curtains, but for the moment, the house was silent. It wouldn’t be that way for much longer, because the kids would be up soon, demanding breakfast and entertainment.

Boden stirred next to me, and I rolled over to face him. He was lying on his stomach with the sheet pulled up to the middle of his back. His face was buried firmly in a pillow, so I could unabashedly admire the strong counters of his back.

And after the last few days, I fully appreciated how strong he was. He could carry me like I was nothing, and he pinned me down effortlessly. Admittedly, I never really fought him, not even when he held me down. But if he ever turned into a zombie, I would be in serious trouble.

Lying with Boden like this, sometimes my thoughts would drift back to Lazlo. I cared about him, even loved him still. But I didn’t know if he was alive or dead, and I honestly didn’t think I’d ever see him again. That hurt, but that’s the way it was.

And it didn’t change the fact that I was starting to feel something real for Boden, something almost overpowering. I wasn’t going to deny it either or pretend like it wasn’t happening. I was falling for him, and I was letting myself.

I needed to let myself actually enjoy things and be present in my life, instead of trying to be an autonomous robot. I’d been working hard on that, and not just in the moments I shared with Boden. When I was playing with Max and Stella, I tried to really play with them. Even when I talked to Serg, I tried to laugh and have fun more.

Stella’s laughter pulled me from my thoughts, and that meant it was time to get up. I sighed and got out of bed.

“Hey.” Boden pulled his head out from the pillow and squinted up at me. “What are you doing?”

“Stella’s awake,” I said and pulled on one of Boden’s sweaters that was draped over the chair. It was way too big for me and made of something scratchy and warm like wool, but I liked it anyway because it felt cozy.

“Serg can take care of her.” He rolled onto his back and patted the empty spot next to him. “You can come back to bed.”

“Serg has gotten up with Max and Stella the past three mornings,” I reminded him. “I can’t make him do it every day.”

“Stella and Max can handle being on their own for fifteen minutes.” Boden grinned wickedly. “Come back to bed.”

“Boden.” I gave him a look as I put on a pair of pants. “You know my rule about not doing anything when the kids are awake.”

“I know,” he sighed. “But since we’re sleeping together now, don’t you think maybe you should stop calling me by my last name?”

I raised an eyebrow. “You want me to call you Charlie?”

“I don’t know. Maybe.” He shrugged. “Try it.”

I crawled onto the bed so I could lean over and give him a kiss on the lips. “See you downstairs in a little bit, Charlie.”

“No.” He wrinkled his nose. “I don’t like the Charlie. I did like the kissing part, though. We can do that again.”

I gave him one more quick kiss, and he tried to wrap his arms around me, so he could pull me back into bed, but I squirmed out of his embrace. He was laughing as I left the room.

When I got downstairs, Stella was sitting on a kitchen stool eating oatmeal. The other stool had been destroyed in the fight with Bruce, so Serg was forced to lean against the counter and eat.

We didn’t have real oatmeal, not in the traditional sense. The house had come with a few canisters of plain Quaker Oats, and we soaked them in warm water from the lake for a few minutes. Then we smashed up berries into it. The berries I’d tried had never made me sick, so we’d taken to eating them, and we all seemed to be doing fine.

“What’s this?” Serg asked, pretending to be shocked to see me. “It’s morning, and you’re getting up? You’re not going to spend all day in bed with Boden?”

“It’s not all morning,” I said, but I blushed a little at his accusation.

A pop bottle of “clean” lake water sat on the counter, and I poured myself a glass. We could never be certain that it was fully clean, of course. We strained out dirt and bigger particles, and we boiled the water to kill any germs. That was the best we could do.

“So … is this like a permanent thing?” Serg asked between mouthfuls of oatmeal.

“I don’t know.” I shrugged and took a drink of water. “Why?”