Page 55 of A False Start
She places the yellow can down on the table and steps up to the line we’ve been shooting from. I grab the gun and walk up behind her, placing it into her hand. If I turn to Stefan right now, who is standing behind me, I’m going to look guilty as fuck. All I’m doing is showing his sister something completely platonic. If I start acting like an anxious bastard, he’ll figure it out.
Figure out that I fuck my hand every night while imagining it’s his sister.
“Like this.” I wrap my fingers around hers gently, placing it in her dominant hand. “And on this side”—I step behind her and lift her opposite hand so that her petite palm wraps just under the butt of the pistol—“like this.”
My fingertips trail over the top of her hand, and I watch goosebumps rush up her forearm.Fuck.The air in the few inches between our bodies crackles, and we both suck in a breath, trying and failing to hide our reactions to each other.
“Okay...” The scent of my cinnamon gum tangles with the scent of her rose cream, and something more distinctively her. The smell of sunshine on her skin. “Let your eyes follow that line on the barrel.” I peek around at her face to check, but end up staring at her lips, recalling the feel of them pressed against mine, so soft and hungry.
I clear my throat. “This elbow up.” My fingers drag along the underside of her arm, and I hear her breath catch. Her throat works as she swallows and forces herself to keep her eyes on the soda can.
I need to get away from her. “Safety off, right here.” I tap the spot softly and note her small nod.
Stepping back, I say, “Now lock your arms and press softly. This one doesn’t take any muscle.”
A few seconds pass, and again I wonder if she’s going to make a move. I swear I can almostseethe gears in her head turning.
It happens in slow motion. The deep breath she takes sends relaxation snaking out through her limbs, her feet sink into the ground, and a ferocious expression overtakes her face.
Her fingers move so, so softly.
Bang.
The tinny noise of a can hitting the packed dirt beneath the log draws my attention down.She hit it.
Shock has me moving slowly because the next bang almost startles me. I jerk my eyes up to catch the second can falling through the air toward the ground.
Bang.
She hits the third can. I stop staring at targets and instead let my gaze find the woman holding the gun.
Bang.
The one who doesn’t look surprised at all.
Bang.
She shifts imperceptibly, takes aim.
Bang.
Five in a row, with ease. I’m not sure I’ve ever heard the forest this quiet. Nadia doesn’t meet any of our eyes, she just drops her chin and slips the safety back into place. Based on the way all the color has drained from her brother’s face and the look of heartbreak on Mira’s, there’s a story here.
One that hasn’t been told until just now.
She finally turns, a fragile smile wobbling across her beautiful face. “Thanks.” Within a few steps, she’s at the table, placing the pistol back in its case. “That was fun.” Her pink fingernails trail over the black metal reverently, but none of us say a thing.
Usually, I’m the one who makes things awkward with my silence. But this time, it’s everyone.
“I’m going to go take a shower. I’m a mess.” She gives her brother’s bicep a gentle squeeze on her way past, sneakered feet padding cross the dirt and pine needles as she goes.
Leaving an awful lot of unanswered questions in her wake.
* * *
“I’m not sleepingin the house with you guys.”
We sit around the picnic table polishing off what remains of the dinner Stefan put together on the barbecue. Steaks, fully loaded baked potatoes, and local corn that doesn’t get any better than at this time of year. The perfect dinner after a long day spent doing manual labor.
