“Shooting lessons,” he clarifies.
Right. Shooting lessons. What did you think he was talking about, lunatic?
I swear, he’s laughing under his breath as he drops his arms and steps away from me. Pushing a button on the side of the booth, he activates an overhead pulley to bring the hanging paper target closer, until it’s less than ten feet away.
I glance at him, somewhat offended. “Really? I can almostlickthe bullseye from here.”
He smirks and pushes a button to move it farther out, until it’s about fifteen feet away. “Better?”
“Slightly less insulting, yes.”
He moves in close again, eyes on mine. “Focus on the target.”
I turn my head back, pulse pounding.
“Take aim.”
I narrow my eyes down the sight of the gun, focusing on the tiny red circle at the center of the paper.
“Don’t forget to breathe, West.” He chuckles. “If you pass out from lack of oxygen before you get off a single shot, the bad guys win. Got it?”
I force a breath into my lungs. “Got it,” I mutter.
“Don’t forget—”
“You don’t have to lecture me!” I cut him off. “How hard can it be to hit the damn thing?”
He’s silent, but I can almostfeelwaves of amusement rolling off him into the air around us.
Whatever. I’vesogot this.
I steady my arms in preparation for the recoil, cock my head a tiny bit to the left, and pull the trigger, wincing in anticipation of the loud bang.
Except… it never comes.
No bang. No bullet. No recoil.
Fine. I sodon’tgot this.
“What the…?”
Nate leans in until I feel his breath on my earlobe. “As I was saying before,” he murmurs. “Don’t forget the safety.”
I shoot a glare in his direction, nearly bumping noses with him in the process. Damn, he’s close. My heartbeat picks up speed again when I see his eyes are on my mouth.
“I knew that,” I snap, hoping my bitchy tone will cover the fact that I’m about two seconds from mashing my lips against his.
Down, girl.
“Uh huh,” he says, leaning back to give me room. Then, he grins. A real, genuinegrin, with teeth and everything. The sight makes about three trillion butterflies burst into flight in my gut.
“I… uh…” I swallow hard, trying to convince myself to look away before I start to drool. “I…”
The grin widens. “You gonna shoot me or the target, West?”
I pivot swiftly so he won’t see the blush creeping across my cheeks. Adjusting my stance once more, I lift the gun back to eye level, lock my arms, and adjust my grip.
This time… this time I’vetotallygot this. I’ll show him.