Page 20 of Loving a Warrior

“Yeah. Good game.”

They collected their T-shirts and belongings before strolling toward the barracks, where they went their separate ways with nods and a muttered, “See ya.”

Once in his room, Matt dropped everything and headed for the shower, where he filled one palm with body wash, braced the other on the tile wall, and stroked himself until he came with heavy, wrenching spurts, reliving the feel of Shane’s sweaty body against his, the sound of his grunts in his ear…

When it was over, Matt leaned against the wet tile, panting. What the hell was going on with him? He couldn’t remember the last time a man had turned him inside out like this, so what was he doing, hanging out with Shane? Most of the rest of the guys didn’t hate him anymore, so why not hang out with them?

Matt nodded decisively as he hung up his towel. Okay. He and Shane had had a nice dinner, some nice conversation. They’d already cleared the air over the room-trashing incident, and tonight indulged in a friendly little basketball game. Jerking off afterward didn’t mean anything. Jerking off was fun and great stress relief. No biggie.

He leaned against the sink and stared at himself in the mirror.

“You must avoid Shane,” he informed his reflection. “There are hundreds of dudes on this base to be friends with. Got it?”

As he shut the lights off and got ready for bed, he had the sneaking suspicion it wouldn’t be quite as easy as that.

Chapter Five

“Hey, asshole, close those fuckin’ blinds, would ya?” Elias mumbled from across the room, his forearm thrown across his eyes to block out the sun.

“Sorry, man.”

Shane turned the blinds to direct the early morning light away from Elias’s bed, but left them cracked to allow the air to flow. Soon Elias’s breathing deepened again, and Shane pulled on some boxers before grabbing his phone from his nightstand and heading out to the common sitting area shared by two rooms. He sprawled on the couch, grimacing when he checked his phone and saw a late-night text from Alexis: Can we talk?

His thumbs flew over the screen as he typed: Sure. Can you come get me when Libby wakes up?

He didn’t really expect a reply so early, but his phone buzzed almost immediately: Can’t. I’m in El Cajon. Call you later.

Shit. Shane dropped his head back and blew out a breath, his throat tight as the memories of their argument the night before flashed through his mind.

“I’d thought I could do it, Shane,” Alexis had choked out. “I’d thought I could go through this again. Don’t you get how hard this is for me?”

Of course he did, because the grief he saw in her eyes was the same grief swirling in his gut. Except his was tinged with a guilt so bitter, so caustic, that sometimes Shane couldn’t breathe.

Being here was supposed to help them heal, not tear them even farther apart.

Ah, Lex. What the hell am I doing?

Needing to get away from his thoughts, Shane tiptoed back to the bedroom to get dressed. Elias was snoring rhythmically, not even stirring when Shane donned his PT gear, laced up some sneakers and let himself out again.

As he ran down the concrete steps of the barracks, all was quiet…just a typical Saturday morning, everyone resting up from the rigors of the week and letting battered bodies replenish depleted stores in preparation for another punishing week to come. Monday mornings were dreaded beyond belief, but the Saturdays helped make up for it.

Approaching the workout area, Shane could see a lone figure on the pull-up bar, the man’s grunts audible as he hammered them out one after the other. It was Matt. Of course. Did the dude ever sleep?

Matt let go of the pull-up bar and reached for a bottle of water, pausing in surprise when he caught sight of Shane. “Hey. You’re up early.”

“Had the same idea, I guess. Mind if I join you?”

When Matt shrugged, Shane set his stuff down on a nearby bench and did a few cursory warm-up stretches. Matt’s face was inscrutable, his dark eyes watching Shane’s every move.

Tingling with awareness, an unaccustomed self-consciousness making him feel slow and clumsy, Shane headed to the pull-up bar and jumped for it, unable to hold back a tiny groan as his various aches and pains made themselves known. Still, he managed a respectable set of twenty, and when he finished, Matt was done with his water and was doing some push-ups—on the knife edges of his hands. On the concrete.

“Fuckin’ show-off.”

Matt chuckled. Without missing a beat, he rolled to his palms and then to his fingertips, the movement graceful and effortless. His form was perfect, and Shane noticed his ankles were crossed, making the exercise even more difficult.

Damn.

When Matt got to his feet at last, he wasn’t even breathing hard, although he was glistening with sweat. He grabbed his tank top from the bench and mopped his face, and it was then that Shane noticed the bruising on his cheek and around his eye.