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...
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Vince swung his fists at the large five-foot punching bag, each blow causing the pleather sack to sway back then forward to meet another punch. His knuckles landed hard, the crack of flesh against pleather penetrated my ears even though I imagined steam escaping them. I couldn't get over Mrs. Cutler's blatant sexual interest in him. She could flirt with him whenever she liked, but it was against the law if I did?
Another slam of his fist and Vince grunted and winced in pain. He swung on his heel and cradled his wrist against his chest.
"You all right?" I was on my way to him before I spoke, reaching him in seconds.
He jerked, startled, and his arms dropped at his sides. "Fine." He pushed the punching bag with his good hand and picked up a towel from below it. He moved out of the way just as the bag swung back. "Took you long enough."
"I wasn't going to come."
He wiped sweat from his face with the towel and then hooked it around his neck. His sleeveless shirt clung to his long torso, exposing the well-formed cleft of muscle on his chest near his sternum. "I see you changed your mind."
I looked away. "We should talk." When he didn't say anything, I looked up.
He gripped the ends of the towel and stared, an emotionless expression on his face. "Let's talk."
Where should I begin? I cleared my throat. "If our weapons weigh approximately ten pounds, and the rest of our gear combined ... that's thirty extra pounds we're supporting. So exactly how are we supposed to maneuver to properly execute our defenses?"
A small grin curled Vince's lips. "That's why we train. Now what's really on your mind?"
That wasn't an innuendo, but if only he knew the dirty thoughts I tried to shake.
Heat rushed my face. God, I was such a girl. Just like Mrs. Cutler, trying to make a joke to prompt a smile from him. What would I do next, ask him to flex while I giggle and swoon? Pathetic.
"Mrs. Cutler, or, 'Sandy'—" I nearly vomited, but swallowed instead, "—was inquiring about you."
Vince hunched over. His body heaved in uncontrollable laughter.
"What's funny?" I narrowed my eyes in confusion, waiting for his laughter to die down so he could answer.
"Stop trying to sound like my dad for once and just say what you really want to say." He threw his towel aside. It hit the wall a few feet from him and silently landed on the mat floor. I successfully prevented myself from taking the move as an invitation to close the space between us. "You try to sound so smart all the time." He shook his head. "I already know you're a fucking genius, asshole. You don't have to use big words and speak all eloquent. It's just me and you here. Now spit it out."
"Okay. Okay. I'm sorry about earlier. And thanks for the compliment, dick." I chuckled when he did.
"I'm sorry too." A small smile curled the corner of his mouth. "Now can we put it behind us?"
