“Another word and I’m going to make you help Quinten with the classes,” Deacon threatens.
“I’m just saying. All you have to do is rub her—”
“That’s it,” Deacon snaps.
Flynn tries to hide his laugh behind his fist, but he fails miserably.
“Next class. I want you at the gun range.”
I fist pump the air. “Dumbass.”
“But—”
“Thursday,” Deacon grumbles as he starts to walk away. “Keep talking and I’ll make you take them over completely.”
I just barely contain a smile as I look over at my best friend. “Class starts at seven sharp. Don’t be late.”
“I was just trying to be informative. Flynn, wouldn’t you want to know if—”
“I have less control than Deacon, so don’t even mention Remi’s parts.”
“Jesus Christ, you guys are Neanderthals!” Jude complains.
“Don’t think about his—”
“You either!” Flynn growls with an angry finger pointed in my direction. “If you guys had a woman, you’d understand. Until that happens, just stick to the advice that talking about another man’s woman is always a bad idea.”
“That went well,” I tell my friend as Flynn stands up and walks away. “See you Thursday.”
I’m grinning all the way back to my office. Having a little help, or just another dose of testosterone during class can only help, right?
Chapter 8
Hayden
“Are you excited?” I look toward the woman sitting at the table in front of me. “I really thought we’d get to shoot the first class. I hate that we’ve had to wait until the third.”
I give her a weak grin, wondering if she’s going to bounce out of her seat with her eagerness.
“I’m Gayle,” she continues when I don’t give a verbal response.
“Hayden,” I say out of courtesy when inwardly I’m cursing Parker for not being here yet.
The door to the classroom opens, and I can’t help the frown on my face when I see that it’s the instructor rather than Parker. His mouth forms a flat line when he sees me, and I don’t know if it’s because I’ve displayed my own disappointment at it not being my friend or if the man really just doesn’t like me. I could tell him that he’s the one who singled me out that first class and made us leave, but that would only put me on the spot once again. I hate being the center of attention. It’s why I don’t throw too big of a fit when Parker wants to hang out in public. She draws the attention away from me.
“We’re going to start today with learning how to load and unload a magazine,” Quinten says the second he’s in position at the front of the classroom.
“Aren’t we shooting today?” Gayle asks, disappointment evident in her tone.
“Can’t shoot without ammunition,” he responds. “Magazine size varies. Some only carry a handful of bullets, others can accommodate seventeen or more.”
I watch his hands, hating that Parker’s conversation about them last week drifts into my head. Quinten holds up each piece as he explains in detail how they work.
“Brand-new magazines are going to be tighter and may hurt your fingers when loading. They get looser the more they’re used.”
Gayle snorts, obviously taking what he said in a nasty way. Quinten doesn’t miss a beat.
“The guys up front can point you to a magazine loader once you decide to buy your own firearm. They’ll save the tips of your fingers from pain.”
“Sorry I’m late,” Parker says as she slides into the seat next to me.
I didn’t even hear the classroom door open, and that says a lot about my level of focus on what’s going on in the front of the room.
“I can’t stay long.”
I frown. She’s the one who wanted to do this class in the first place, and now she’s bailing on me?
“What did I miss?”
“He’s showing us how to load that thing with bullets,” I answer, my eyes pointed back in Quinten’s direction.
“I’m going to pass a couple of these around so you can practice.”
“But we don’t have guns right now,” Gayle complains.
Quinten gives her a wary look. “We’re not loading firearms, we’re loading magazines. Loaded guns aren’t allowed out of the firing range.”
“But we are shooting today?”
“Soon,” he says as he begins to drop magazines and a handful of bullets on each table. “Remember, the ammunition points out just like I showed you.”
His eyes find mine when he’s approaches our table, and I have to quickly look away. I don’t know what it is about this man that makes me feel so awkward and weird.
Yeah, okay. I can admit that he’s handsome, even though I denied it the first time I saw him, but lots of men are attractive. I don’t feel my face flush around every good-looking guy I come across, but with him, a simple look in my direction and I can feel the rush of heat on my skin. At first, I chalked it up to my irritation with how he treated me during the first class, but I haven’t been upset about that since he showed such care and patience with me last week when I didn’t want to pick up the gun, and again when he was worried after class that I hadn’t found one I was completely comfortable with.
“Sweet,” Parker says as she reaches for the items he’s put in front of us, and the spell is broken.
I watch my best friend as she follows his instructions.
Of course, I glance back at him just in time to see him walk away. Parker was right, his jeans are absolutely lethal.
Parker clears her throat, and I see her grinning when I look back at her.
“Your turn,” she says as she pops the bullets free. She doesn’t mention catching me looking at the man’s ass, but I know the reprieve won’t last forever. Maybe it’s a good thing she can’t stay for the entire class. It means I won’t be grilled later or forced to go get drinks.
“Sorry I’m late,” comes another male voice from the back of the room.
Every woman, including myself, turns our heads as a handsome man begins to walk toward the front of the classroom.
Chatter begins before the man can make it halfway there.
“Everyone this is my co-instructor Jude—”
“Hey Jude!” Gayle sings and I chuckle at her obvious Beatles reference.
“—Jude Morris,” Quinten says as if he hadn’t been interrupted, but I see a hint of a smile on his face.
Jude gives an awkward wave before shoving his hands into his pockets. The apples of his cheeks begin to turn pink when Quinten claps him on the back.
“He’s got a Dr. Reid vibe going on, doesn’t he?” Parker whispers right in my ear.
“He looks nothing like Matthew Gray Gubler.” I was an avid fan of the television show Criminal Minds, but the break-in at my house managed to make me too afraid to watch it. The plotline became a little too real after experiencing that.
“No, like his demeanor. Anyway, do you think Quinten will help if I act like I don’t understand how to load this thing?” Parker picks up the magazine and turns it over in her hand.