Page 82 of Loving a Warrior

He swallowed the lump in his throat. “Hmph. If you were gonna wake me up, you could’ve at least had coffee—”

Before Matt could even finish his sentence, Shane reached over to the nightstand and produced a steaming mug. “Your wish is my command.” He propped some pillows up behind them and drew Matt back against him, and they passed the mug back and forth, sharing the coffee and enjoying the sunrise.

After a while Matt clicked on the TV and tuned in to Netflix. “If we’re going to be epically lazy today,” he informed an amused Shane, “I’m going all in.”

“No complaints here. All I want is to spend time with you.”

Giving him a soft kiss, Matt snuggled in close to him, contentment and relaxation turning his body almost boneless. One movie led to another, and Shane eventually fell asleep, his head now pillowed on Matt’s stomach while Matt stroked his hair, watching his face more than the movie.

I could really get used to this. Why did I have to meet you now? Why now?

When Shane woke up, he declared himself famished, so they shared an extra-large pepperoni pizza ordered from room service. Matt didn’t think he’d ever felt more decadent in his life than eating greasy pizza naked in bed next to his equally naked lover.

Guilt finally drove him up in the early evening to don some workout clothes. Shane made fun of him at first, until Matt said, “My uncle told me the instructors are gonna hammer us the first day back to see who kept their fitness up during the holidays and who didn’t.” He sat down to tie his shoes. “I, for one, don’t intend to be that guy.”

Without another word Shane got up to join him.

Afterward they ventured out to walk the Strip. With only a few days to go before New Year’s Eve celebrations, the streets were teeming with revelers. Matt had never been a hand-holder, but here in Sin City, just another anonymous face in the crowd, he found himself more than once with his fingers entwined with Shane’s as they strolled.

They poked their heads into a few touristy attractions, and stopped to watch the fountains at the Bellagio. The night was chilly, so Shane stood behind him with his arms wrapped around Matt’s shoulders. “Water and cold,” he finally muttered. “This is giving me flashbacks.”

“Ugh, me, too.”

Grabbing on to Shane’s hand, Matt towed him away, laughing. That led into comparing Hell Week stories, both of them agreeing the Around the World paddle on Thursday night was the worst evolution of them all.

“That essay thing was a close second, though,” Shane said, his jaw clenched. “I almost punched Bernson out.”

“Essay thing? We didn’t do anything like that.” Matt remembered the conversation he’d overheard that night, about Shane disputing he’d signed something. “What happened?”

Shane made a sound of disgust. “Well, long story short, we were put into a dark, quiet classroom with pencils and paper and ordered to write an essay. When we, of course, fell asleep, they woke us up, told us to sign our essays and go to chow.” He paused. “Turns out what we signed were actually discharge papers. They switched ’em out while we slept.”

Matt choked.

“Yep. We’d just DORed ourselves. They yelled and screamed at us to get out. Everyone was so scared and confused, Matt. Finally a couple guys took a few steps toward the bell, and that’s when I lost it.”

“What’d you do?”

Shane grimaced. “Got up in Bernson’s face and informed him he was an asshole, that signatures obtained under duress and false pretenses didn’t count. That none of us were gonna DOR so he and the rest of the cadre could go fuck themselves.”

“Holy shit.” Matt dropped Shane’s hand and stopped dead in his tracks, staring up at him. “You badass motherfucker.”

Smiling at him ruefully, Shane took his arm and moved them out of the flow of pedestrian traffic, where they leaned up against a nearby stone wall. “Bernson got red in the face, but then he got real quiet. Told the other instructors to take the rest of the guys down to the beach to get wet and sandy, that he was gonna spend a little time with me.” He shook his head. “My roommate stayed with me as my swim buddy. Idiot.”

“Now that’s a good guy.”

“The best.” Shane crossed his arms over his chest and sighed. “So anyway, he made us sit in the ice bath. Not swim through it—sit in it, up to our necks. And we couldn’t get out till I made him laugh.”

Matt was reeling, wondering if he’d be able to think of something funny to say while immersed in an icy slurry just minutes after his world had crashed down on top of his exhausted, bewildered head. “What did you—” he managed to croak. “How—”

“All I could think of was the time Jon and I crashed a church social, got a bunch of religious kids drunk, and I ended up with a broken nose.” Shane’s voice was tight and his eyes were bleak although he was smiling.

Matt gaped at him. “What the fuck? Was that Jon’s idea?” When Shane nodded, he asked, “Why—”

Shane shrugged, cutting him off. “Because he was bored. Because he could. Because it was there. Take your pick.”

“Then how’d you end up with the broken nose?”

Pushing off the wall, Shane started walking again. “Some dude took exception to the fact Jon’s dick ended up in his girlfriend’s mouth. I, unfortunately, got in the way of his fist.”