Vince swung his fists at the large five-foot punching bag, each blow causing the pleather sack to sway back then forward to meet another punch. His knuckles landed hard, the crack of flesh against pleather penetrated my ears even though I imagined steam escaping them. I couldn't get over Mrs. Cutler's blatant sexual interest in him. She could flirt with him whenever she liked, but it was against the law if I did?

Another slam of his fist and Vince grunted and winced in pain. He swung on his heel and cradled his wrist against his chest.

"You all right?" I was on my way to him before I spoke, reaching him in seconds.

He jerked, startled, and his arms dropped at his sides. "Fine." He pushed the punching bag with his good hand and picked up a towel from below it. He moved out of the way just as the bag swung back. "Took you long enough."

"I wasn't going to come."

He wiped sweat from his face with the towel and then hooked it around his neck. His sleeveless shirt clung to his long torso, exposing the well-formed cleft of muscle on his chest near his sternum. "I see you changed your mind."

I looked away. "We should talk." When he didn't say anything, I looked up.

He gripped the ends of the towel and stared, an emotionless expression on his face. "Let's talk."

Where should I begin? I cleared my throat. "If our weapons weigh approximately ten pounds, and the rest of our gear combined ... that's thirty extra pounds we're supporting. So exactly how are we supposed to maneuver to properly execute our defenses?"

A small grin curled Vince's lips. "That's why we train. Now what's really on your mind?"

That wasn't an innuendo, but if only he knew the dirty thoughts I tried to shake.

Heat rushed my face. God, I was such a girl. Just like Mrs. Cutler, trying to make a joke to prompt a smile from him. What would I do next, ask him to flex while I giggle and swoon? Pathetic.

"Mrs. Cutler, or, 'Sandy'—" I nearly vomited, but swallowed instead, "—was inquiring about you."

Vince hunched over. His body heaved in uncontrollable laughter.

"What's funny?" I narrowed my eyes in confusion, waiting for his laughter to die down so he could answer.

"Stop trying to sound like my dad for once and just say what you really want to say." He threw his towel aside. It hit the wall a few feet from him and silently landed on the mat floor. I successfully prevented myself from taking the move as an invitation to close the space between us. "You try to sound so smart all the time." He shook his head. "I already know you're a fucking genius, asshole. You don't have to use big words and speak all eloquent. It's just me and you here. Now spit it out."

"Okay. Okay. I'm sorry about earlier. And thanks for the compliment, dick." I chuckled when he did.

"I'm sorry too." A small smile curled the corner of his mouth. "Now can we put it behind us?"

I nodded, not sure if he was intentionally making puns or not, or what it actually entailed. Did he mean the incident in the library or the experimenting we had engaged in years ago?

"Mrs. Cutler did ask about you though." I relaxed a little and took a seat on the wooden bench against the wall, trying to ignore the faint stench of body odor in the room.

"Yeah?" He lowered his voice and leaned toward me as if there were other ears in the room. "She's been trying to suck me off." He lifted a brow.

"Are you serious?" Of course he was serious. I lowered my voice as well. "What she do?" Mimicking each other had often been a habit or pretty natural thing to do when being so close.

His eyes cut to the room entrance then back to me. "She asked if I ever had my cock sucked. Just like that. No beating around the bush."

Damn. The puns were going to kill me. That phrase brought thoughts of our most thrilling mutual masturbation session to mind. But my unease at the thought of her and Vince caused me to laugh, not at all surprised she would be so blunt, even when considering her status and the age gap. And because of that and the strict social rules we had to obey, her question was valid. Being a twenty-two-year-old virgin wasn't as strange as it once was before impact, if the stories were true. Nonetheless, curiosity nagged me and I needed to know his response to her proposal. "And?"

"Well, I lied." He took a seat next to me. Our thighs touched and I couldn't stop my gaze from traveling toward his groin. "Thought it would be funny to play into it a little. I was like, 'Yeah. I had a blowjob before. I get 'em all the time.'" His laughter filled the room, bringing my attention to his mouth and prompting an image of his lips on my most sensitive parts.

I couldn't tear my gaze from his lips. "And?!"

"She was like, 'You want another one?' or something like that."

My jaw dropped ... from surprise. I couldn't believe she had actually offered sex instead of just teasing it or flirting. I had guessed Mrs. Cutler was sex-starved, but to offer oral sex to someone other than her husband, to a cadet more than half her age, to Vince—? "What did you do?"

He made a face. The face that said, you know me too well. "Come on. I thought about it, but I couldn't do that to Dr. Price Cutler."

"You thought about it?" And the only thing that stopped you was the fact that she's married? "Would you have let her if she wasn't married?"

My reaction must've come off like one of a jealous girlfriend, judging by the way he scrutinized me.

I looked away, trying to properly put together my next response. Get it together, asshole. "I meant ..."

He cleared his throat. "I don't know." He shrugged, avoiding eye contact. "Maybe. I mean, who wouldn't want a blowjob?" He scoffed.

I nodded and chuckled too, disguising my disappointment. However, it wasn't like there weren't a flock of girls willing and ready to do him that very favor. He wouldn't have to ask, either. One only had to walk into a room with him to see the girls salivating. And without the fear of disease or conceiving, a lot of people were having sex ... secretly, of course. I heard the rumors. But, certainly, they weren't just stories. Promiscuity was a prohibited social activity, a lesser offence. Therapy sessions were the usual "punishment." Also, it was frowned upon, which is why I hung out in virgin territory. The point of dating was to find a lifelong partner—not several—one that could result in a bond with your very own child eventually, hopefully. Still, there had to be some reason Vince hadn't yet.

Although I respected the process, the true reason I had yet to have sex was because I'm too damn picky. I knew what and who I wanted, and I was willing to wait to get him. Maybe deep inside Vince felt the same too.

He reached into his pack beside the bench and pulled out a tiny translucent med-patch. Once he removed the outer wrapper, he placed the adhesive side against the skin on the inside of his wrist.

I nodded to the patch. "How's that going?"

"It's a new prescription since, obviously, the old one wasn't doing much. Apparently Dad's worried my anger's been escalating with little to no triggers, so he wanted to increase the dosage before it became a problem, or something like that." He tossed the wrapper into the bag. "So, I'll catch you later." He stood. "I need a shower. I stink."

I laughed. "I wasn't going to mention it."

He nudged my shoulder with his knuckles, flashed a brief grin, and headed toward the back to the showers.

No lie, I was conflicted.

We had played so many games in the past, sending hidden messages back and forth in our communications. The words "I need a shower" followed by a tap on the shoulder could mean, "I need a shower. See you later," but it also could mean, "I need a shower. Join me." I didn't know if I should leave or follow. My head said, leave and go back to your quarters with the other cadets. My heart said, give him some time to come around. However, my groin said, you don't want to miss this!

I followed. 

The door opened to a large tiled room, which immediately led to a wall of towels neatly stacked on stainless steel shelves and lockers for personals, also benches to sit and dress or undress. Behind the wall were the showers—a dozen nozzles and a tiled divider between each of them. The shower came on before I turned the corner. The sound of water droplets sprinkling to the tiled floor echoed throughout the room. The door gently swung closed behind me, giving me confidence to continue.

For Vince's birthday, I had given him a pair of socks wrapped in a ribbon with three tiny brass bells attached to it. The bells were part of a gift Dad had given me years earlier. He was able to bring them into the facility when we first arrived and that made them unique and I highly cherished them.

But when I couldn't afford paper to wrap Vince's gift, I used the bells. Immediately, we came up with an innovative way to make use of them. Whenever we'd get the urge to make our problems go away, we'd sneak off together. And by placing the bells on the top of the door of whichever room we were in, we knew immediately when it had opened, and when someone was close to discovering our secret. It saved us embarrassment and punishment on many occasions, even if it left the people who found the bells confused. We just played it off as some sort of prank, and they fell for it every time.

Too bad I misplaced the bells. But it was appropriate timing. The year Dad died our sneaking around came to an abrupt halt, only to return briefly but without the bells.

The gurgling of water going down the drain suddenly filled the room. It seemed bizarre to enter the showers without first announcing my presence, so I called out, "Hey, Vince?"

"Yeah?" he called back.

I took it as an invitation and finally turned the corner. There he stood near the divider, naked except for a towel clasped around his slender hips. Broad shoulders, well-defined pecs, and rippling abs grabbed my attention. I gulped. "I stink too. You know, after training." I studied his expression. Testing.

"Connor—" He sighed, turning away. "We can't do this."

"Vince, nothing's changed." How can I make him see? I moved closer. "Nothing will change, either. It doesn't have to."

He growled through clenched teeth. "We were just fucking around back then. I can't do that shit anymore."

What was his deal? "Why not? We were so close. We trusted each other. We felt better after—

"The rules."

I huffed. "Forget those outlandish rules, Vince. Those rules never stopped us before."

"I'm not gay, Connor." He frowned. "Okay?"

Bullshit. Not publicly he wasn't, but he used to really enjoy watching me touch myself, and had occasionally done the touching. How many sessions did it take before engaging in sexual acts with another man crossed the line from experimentation to homosexuality? It was impossible for me to believe that excuse.

Besides the water streaming from the shower head nozzle, there was a brief, tense silence. "Yeah, I know. Neither am I."

"I mean it, Connor. I'm not. Okay?"

Was this his explanation for why he never allowed us to hold each other or kiss one another? Was insisting on some kind of limitation his way of not fully coming to terms with who he was? During those secret sessions, I had confessed how much I wanted him. Why couldn't he do the same?

"After Dad died, I turned to you. You helped me get through it. No matter the issue, I would go to you and I felt better every time."

"I will always have your back, Connor. I promise. But not like that." He ran his hand through his wavy locks. The light bounced from the dirty blond strands, bringing more attention to them. "Now can we please drop this? Forget about it?"

So he had wanted to put our pasts behind us.

I swallowed a lump in my throat. "You're telling me you felt nothing?"

"It felt good. I felt good, but that was it." He looked away. "That's all I felt."

Twice in the same day he had managed to make me feel as if I were being eaten alive from the inside out. Was this feeling similar to what Mom and Dad had experienced with the toxins?

"We know how to keep secrets, Vince." I moved forward, closer. "So you don't ever have to worry about that. And I always want you to feel good."

"Jeez, Connor!" He rushed forward threateningly, and stopped millimeters from me. "Give it up already. You sound ..."

Obsessed? Crazy? In love? Maybe I was. I couldn't let it go. He never left my mind, no matter what I tried. Even thinking of my parents' deaths didn't keep me from imaging Vince's arms around me, Vince's lips against mine—Vince in ways I have never had him before. It just made me need him more.

"I'm hurting... for you." Emotion clogged my throat, but it was the truth.

"Damn it, Connor!" His fingers came up to my neck and twisted into the collar of my shirt. A sharp breath escaped me when my back thudded against the wall. He pressed his weight against my clavicle. The pressure was intense, the pain even more, but I welcomed it. I needed the physical pain to block out the emotional.

I gripped his forearms and stared into his angry eyes, then down to his twisted lips. Kiss me. Please, kiss me. The pain will end if you just kiss me.

His glare softened when he looked at my lips. He shook his head, as if he heard my plea and was fighting the urge.

"Vince," I managed. "Vince?" I glanced at the med-patch on his wrist and forgave him instantly for the violent move, knowing his battle with anger management and that I had provoked him.

With a shove, he released me and backed away, but our gazes were locked. My bottom lip quivered, and I bit it to prevent it from exposing my heartache. His expression held sorrow, but he didn't say a word.

And that hurt worse.

I couldn't move, couldn't look away. I envisioned his thumb sweeping along my lower lip and his lips gently kissing away the trembling.

Instead he shook his head again and finally broke the silence. "Why are you still here?"

I knew then, I had blown it. I'd screwed up royally. I swallowed, but this time the lump stay lodged in my throat, in my chest. I put my hand over my aching breastbone, hoping it would cease the emotional and physical sting. When it didn't, I mentally captured one last image of the handsome man before me and then left the room.

~~~

What has Connor gotten himself into? Remember to vote and comment to show your support!