Connor and Vince fight their forbidden attraction as they attempt to rescue themselves and fellow residents of the underground Refuge facility from a toxic breach.
*****
Conn...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
When peering into the dark, cylindrical barrel of a gun, how often would awe and fascination render me speechless?
My captivation was similar to what it had been when Dad first told me the Refuge Inc. legends. The same uncertainty and intrigue came over me now as the black tunnel swamped my vision. As I was about to lift my head and place the weapon back on the wall rack, the butt of the rifle was batted aside.
"You stupid or something, Connor?" When I looked up, my gaze met Vince's. His beautiful golden stare softened, revealing concern peeking through his disappointment. "Gun safety one-o-one, asshole."
"Yeah, I took the class, dick." I smirked when he did and placed the rifle back into its slot on the wall rack. "Sat right next to you, remember?"
"Well, act like you learned something." He flung his pack from his shoulder and into the empty locker beside the rifle rack without a huff.
"You gonna pout again?" My scoff was an attempt at a laugh. A chuckle and a smile was on the verge of revealing itself on my lips. I got my kicks out of teasing him. He got some kind of thrill out of it too. We'd bantered with each other for years. It kept our friendship fun and spontaneous. "The safety's on and it's not even loaded—"
"And you're supposed to be Mr. Fast Learner." He looked away. Is that a hint of real anger in his tone? "Shows how much my dad knows for advancing you."
No, not anger. Jealousy.
Curiosity hit me and I narrowed my eyes. "You're still mad about me advancing?" It wasn't as if I had predicted I would do better than a lot of the cadets after joining, but I needed to do my best regardless. Our gazes met for a few seconds before he lost the staring match. He bent to loosen his boots. "You may have a great mind, but we both know you suck at handling weapons. Because of that, your luck won't continue." He winked.
Being well aware of Vince's playfulness, and because of his wink, I knew he didn't really harbor any ill feelings toward me. However, teasing me was also his way of venting. For the past few years, it had been difficult for him to spit out exactly what he felt. He'd bury his true intentions somewhere among the jokes, sarcasm, and puns, and leave me to dig out the true meaning. But I didn't mind. I'd always enjoyed puzzles.
"You can teach me." I lifted a questioning eyebrow. Like a mathematician was trained to excel at arithmetic, Vince was trained to become a genius with weaponry and combat. The perfect tutor. However, by choosing my words carefully, I hoped he'd get the pun. Maybe our training would turn into something more intimate.
An awkward silence settled over the locker room again as Vince studied me with his striking eyes. So much of our communication was littered with hidden meaning, he was probably trying to determine what level of seriousness the conversation had transitioned to. "Whatever." He released the clasp on his weapons belt and it dropped from his hips.
