Page 9 of Burning Love

So… what’s with this Alex woman? Maybe I’m just scared of her.

A knock on the other side of the screen startled her, yanking her from her thoughts. She froze, panic rising.

Oh, shit. No. Not now. I’m half-naked here.

She didn’t know what to do or say when the knock came again, more insistent this time.

Sophia grabbed her shirt and held it in front of her breasts in a sharp motion.

“Who is it?” she called. “Can you give me a sec?”

Alex’s broad frame appeared from behind the screen, “What was that? Oh, sorry. It’s noisy back here. I didn’t know you were getting dressed.” Her eyes met Sophia’s, and for a moment, the hustle and bustle beyond the screen faded, leaving only the intensity of the moment. Alex stepped inside Sophia’s small bedroom space without hesitation, carrying a folded towel under one arm.

“You startled me.”

“I didn’t mean to,” Alex said, her voice calm and neutral, but Sophia could hear the faintest hint of concern. “I figured you might want this. You can get washed up. We have a shower block. It’s not great, of course. It’s just rainwater. But I have some soap you can borrow and a little bit of toothpaste. It’s not much, but it’ll help you feel better.”

Sophia’s gaze flickered downward. She felt unable to meet Alex’s eyes. She focused on Alex’s boots for a moment. They were caked in dried mud or blood or something equally as disgusting. However, she felt oddly grateful for the distraction.

“Thanks,” Sophia mumbled. She hated how weak and vulnerable she sounded when she felt nervous. “Sounds wonderful.”

Get it together.

“Are you still in pain?” Alex’s question was blunt, a sudden shift in the atmosphere. Sophia’s eyes snapped back to Alex’s face, realizing that the woman had been watching her ribs.

Sophia swallowed hard, her throat dry. She shifted uncomfortably, avoiding her gaze. “Not really,” she lied, the words sticking in her throat. It was easier than explaining the ache, the lingering discomfort. She wasn’t sure why she didn’t want Alex to know how much it still hurt. Maybe it was the pride, or perhaps it was the strange fear that Alex might see her as weak.

Alex didn’t respond immediately, her eyes steady and almost searching. There was a moment of silence, and Sophia felt exposed and vulnerable under Alex’s gaze. It was more than just concern—it was something else, something deeper.

Sophia crossed her arms over her chest, instinctively trying to shield herself from whatever this was. She wasn’t ready to deal with it.

What the hell am I doing?

“You should get them checked out,” Alex said after a beat, her voice soft but firm, like a command. “No point in risking infection.”

Sophia nodded quickly, grateful for the shift in topic. Her fingers tightened against her arms, and she could feel the pulse of heat rising in her cheeks. It wasn’t just the physical pain anymore—it was something about Alex’s presence. The way she seemed to see right through her, the way her every word seemed to touch something buried deep within.

Alex lingered for a moment longer, her eyes never leaving Sophia’s face. Then she turned, her movement smooth and fluid like everything about her was designed to catch attention.

“Breakfast is in ten,” Alex said over her shoulder, her voice low and casual, but there was an undertone to it that Sophia couldn’t quite place. “You’ll see where it’s all set up outside.”

As Alex walked away, Sophia exhaled a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. Her heart pounded in her chest.

What is this I’m feeling, and what the hell do I do with this?

She ran a hand through her tangled hair, her mind racing. This wasn’t how she was supposed to feel. Not in this world, not with everything going on.

But there was no denying it. Something had shifted. Something deep inside of her.

And she didn’t know how to take it.

The main room outside her makeshift bedroom was a whole lot busier than she’d expected. Small groups of men, women, and children were moving around with what looked like purpose. Sophia kept her head down, walking quickly toward the exit, unsure if she was supposed to be involved in some sort of activity or not. She was going to have to find someone to ask. There was a sense of urgency in the air that made her feel like she definitely didn’t belong in the place.

As she approached what she assumed was an outdoor kitchen set up in a large tent, the sharp scent of bread reached her. As Sophia took a tentative step through the opening, she was met by a broad-shouldered woman with her large hands deep in a bowl of dough. She didn’t look up, not even as Sophia entered the room, her posture rigid and focused.

“I’ve been expecting you. Major Bebbington told me to make use of you in here today. I don’t know why. My name’s Ellen,” the woman said flatly, her voice low but carrying an undeniable edge. Her eyes didn’t lift from her work as she spoke. “Grab a knife. You can start slicing and buttering some of these loaves.”

Sophia hesitated for a moment, uncertain. The tension in the air pressed against her chest, and Ellen’s no-nonsense tone only deepened her unease. She obeyed quickly, privately wishing she’d been given the time to get washed up before tackling this as she reached for a knife and moved to stand beside Ellen at the large wooden table in the center of the tent. The loaf of bread was fresh, its surface warm and smooth beneath her fingers. She worked methodically, trying to keep her movements steady, her eyes flickering occasionally toward Ellen as if searching for some clue of what to do next.

---