Page 89 of Loving a Warrior

“Okay, sure. I’m in,” he said, trying not to sound as reluctant as he felt. A dudebro drunkfest wasn’t his favorite way to spend a Friday night, but he did need to make more of an effort. Once he got to a team…

“Great!” Aaron clapped his shoulder. “And, uh, do you think you’d mind being our DD?”

Ah. The real reason for the invitation. Matt heaved an inward sigh. “No, I don’t mind driving. My truck isn’t big enough, though.”

Aaron assured him they had adequate transportation, and before hurrying off, shouted out when and where they were meeting.

After he’d gone, Matt found himself wandering toward the dive shed where Shane’s class was rinsing off and resetting their equipment to get ready for the next practical. Not wanting to interrupt if they were debriefing, he paused outside the entrance, the familiar smell of sweat, rubber and seawater tickling his nostrils. Thank fuck he was done with this part of it, his stomach churning at the memory of that dark, cold water…

And people thought SEALs were fearless. Ha.

Then he grinned. He’d love to be around when Shane took his first dive out of an airplane. Now that oughta be a sight to see.

As he hovered in the doorway to the dive shed, loud, excited chatter echoed back at him, letting him know the group had been secured from training, at least for the moment. He ambled inside, searching each drying cage until he found Shane, who was busy recharging some oxygen bottles, his wet suit top down around his waist.

As always, Shane’s sheer physical beauty stole Matt’s breath. He cleared his throat. “Hey.”

Shane glanced up, a mild look of annoyance on his face at the interruption, which morphed into a look of such warmth, and welcome, that Matt went tingly all over. He clenched his fists, fighting a sudden urge to rush into Shane’s arms.

God, I missed you.

“Well, hey,” Shane said huskily. He abandoned the oxygen bottles and propped his hands on his hips. “What brings you here?”

“Just saying hi.” Matt bit his lip, feeling like he could drown in the hungry blue of Shane’s eyes, wanting nothing more than to lean against that broad chest and be held close. “I, uh, got suckered into going out tonight.”

“You did?” Shane stripped his wet suit top the rest of the way off and hung it up. “How’d that happen?”

Matt shrugged. “Making an effort. It does sound kinda fun.” He told him about the nightclub, ending with, “Wanna come?”

Shane raised his eyebrows. “Why, Matt Knytych,” he murmured, sauntering closer and propping one bare shoulder against the wall near where Matt stood. “Are you asking me out on a date?”

He was so close Matt could see the individual grains of salt and sand crusting his skin, could see the pulse pounding in the hollow of his throat.

Matt smirked. “Maybe. What if I am?”

Shane’s nostrils flared as he sucked in a breath. “Then, Soup? If you don’t get out of here right now, I’m gonna kiss you to within an inch of your life. Fair warning.”

Raucous laughter and clanging metal echoed all around them as guys stowed their equipment and made their weekend plans, but Matt’s world narrowed down to the sensual promise in Shane’s raspy voice.

He backed away on trembling legs, holding Shane’s gaze for as long as he could, before turning and hurrying away. Once outside, he crammed his hands in his pockets and paced back and forth, watching as Shane came to rinse off under an outdoor spigot, trading jokes and shoves with the other guys in his class.

Then he disappeared back inside and emerged a few minutes later, dressed in a Navy sweatshirt and a pair of track pants, his duffel over his shoulder. Matt fell into step beside him as they made their way to the parking lot and Shane’s car.

Popping the trunk, Shane tossed his duffel in and then climbed into the driver’s seat, turning the car on and powering down the window. Matt leaned his elbows against the sill, hands dangling inside. “How’ve you been?”

“Pretty good.” Shane reached up to toy with Matt’s fingers, his own still pruned from prolonged immersion in the water. “Been doing a lot of thinking.”

“Yeah?” Matt waited him out, rubbing his thumb along the back of Shane’s hand.

“You were right,” Shane said quietly, “about my motivation for coming to BUD/S. It’s part guilt, part wanting to say a big ‘fuck you’ to Jon, part wanting to experience what he did so I can feel closer to him, as messed up as that sounds.”

Matt let out a soft snort. “Since when are feelings not messy?”

Because mine are in a fucking tangle right now.

Shane sighed. “It’s true. But I love being here, Matt. I’m good at it. It’s challenging and fulfilling in a way I never dreamed it’d be.”

“You are good at it,” Matt said fiercely, gripping Shane’s fingers hard. “You’re a badass, Shane, and you got this. No matter what happens, you’re gonna make one helluva SEAL.”